Page 220 of Money Reigns
The key drops into my hand, cold and solid. I close my fist around it, nod once, and head for the stairs.
I mutter a thank you, and turn for the stairs. My steps are slow, quiet, creaking with age beneath my shoes.
The hall is narrow, carpet worn thin. Every detail screams of a life lived, not designed. And still… it feels more honest than anything I’ve built.
When I reach the end, I pause at the brass number on the door. Room 10.
I don’t know what I expect behind it.
But it’s not this.
Room 10 is bigger than I expected, but it carries the weight of years. The wallpaper’s peeling in one corner, a radiator coughs when I set my bag down, and the bed creaks with a protest when I sit. My eyes skim the space automatically, logging what I’ll tell the crew to fix; floorboards uneven near the dresser, window frame warped, bathroom tile cracked. Easy repairs.
I stand, cross to the window, and part the curtain.
And I still.
Across the street, her house. Olivia’s house. From here, Room 10 looks directly into her bedroom. Curtains wide open, no defenses. She’s there, perched on her bed, shoulders bowed, face buried in her hands.
The sight knocks the air out of me. Pain slices clean through my chest.
A thought slips through, slow and certain.
Jillian knew.
She gave me this room on purpose.
This room.
This view.
She knew I’d be able to see Olivia.
To watch.
To wait.
For one reckless moment, I want to storm across the street, to break past the brothers, to lift her chin and force her to see me. To remind her that she’s mine, that nothing can cut that truth clean away.
Not even the words I said.
But I don’t.
I let the curtain fall back into place. Just enough to remind myself: privacy, not distance. My fists clench, then release.
She needs time.
So I’ll wait.
Five days. That’s all I can give her.
Five days to hope she loves me enough to not want to be free of me.
And if she doesn’t…
I’ll let her go.
Even if it kills me.
