chapter three
Kira
I was not expecting Noah to stop by the store today, but I’m glad he did. After working an extra-long shift to make up for the time I missed for graduation, seeing him made the exhaustion a little easier to bear.
By the time I get home, I’m drained, my muscles aching from hours on my feet. I run a bath, adding a generous pour of lavender-scented bubbles, and peel off my clothes. The moment I sink into the warm water, a soft moan escapes me.
I needed this.
My mind drifts to Noah. I wonder what he’s doing tonight. With the way the storm clouds were rolling in, he ’ s probably sitting out on the porch, a beer in his hand, watching the sky. Then, unbidden, a memory sneaks in—his hand grazing my leg, the heat of his body so close.
It was barely a touch, but I wanted more.
I ’ ve always had a bit of a crush on him. Who wouldn ’ t? He ’ s tall, gorgeous, and always looking out for me. But I know it only goes one way. He sees me as Jared ’ s friend, nothing more.
I pull on my pajamas and crawl into bed, burrowing beneath the blankets. Grabbing my favorite book, I read until my eyelids grow heavy, letting the words lull me to sleep.
A sharp vibration yanks me from sleep.
I fumble for my phone, knocking half the contents off my nightstand. Squinting at the screen, I see two missed calls and a text from Jared.
Jared: wanna go do something today?
Kira: YES! I have today off, so I’m free whenever
Shooting off a quick response, I head to the kitchen to make my coffee when I notice a folded piece of yellow paper on the floor in front of my apartment door. Bending down to pick it up, I carefully open it. As I skim the contents, my entire body stiffens.
“Due to increasing demand and higher operating costs, we have decided to increase your monthly rent to $950.”
My heart drops as I glance at the following line.
“This change will be implemented on your next billing cycle.”
That’s in two weeks! This can’t be true. I can’t afford that. It’s almost double what I’m paying right now. How can they do that?
“If you are not renewing your lease, you will be expected to vacate the premises before that date. ”
What am I supposed to do?
I see a number at the bottom of the paper and dial it without a second thought.
“Hello, this is Jan.”
“Um, hello. I just received a note saying that my rent is increasing?” I ask, my heart racing.
“Oh, yes, we just increased the monthly rent on all of our units. It was well overdue. We haven’t increased our pricing in years,” she explains.
“Well, I don’t think I am going to be able to afford it. Is there anything you can do? Anyone I can speak to?”
“Unfortunately, no, ma’am. This has already been decided and is not up for negotiation. It states in your lease that the landlord can increase rent at any time. Is there anything else I can help with?”
Are you kidding me?
“No, I guess not.” I hang up, my breathing uneven.
What am I going to do?
I’ve already cut every expense I can to stay here.
My vision blurs as a tear slips down my cheek. My legs give out, and I sink to the floor, arms wrapped around my knees. A sob wracks my chest, then another.
Maybe my mom was right.
Maybe I can ’ t do this on my own.
Maybe I was an idiot to think I could.
I stare ahead, unfocused, trapped in the spiral of my thoughts. I don ’ t know how long I sit there on the cold tile floor, but eventually, the dull ache in my bladder pulls me back to reality. With a deep breath, I grip the counter and force myself to stand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch my reflection in the mirror—swollen face, red-rimmed eyes. I barely recognize myself.
No.
I take another breath, staring into my own eyes.
I will be okay. I will figure this out. I am not giving up.
I spend the rest of the day in bed, scrolling through rental listings, but every search only makes my anxiety worse.
There ’ s nothing. Nothing even close to what I can afford.
A tear splashes onto my pillow.
I feel utterly helpless.
My phone rings next to me, and I jump. Looking at the caller ID, Jared’s name fills my screen. Shit, we were supposed to make plans today. I answer, trying not to sound like I’ve been crying.
“Hey, Jared. ”
“Kira! Still want to go do something tonight?” Jared asks hopefully.
“I don’t know. I’m pretty tired,” I explain, but there’s a slight shake to my voice.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”
I don’t respond. What am I supposed to say?
“Kira, tell me what’s wrong,” Jared demands. I’m silent for a moment. I don’t know how to answer him without breaking down again. A sob escapes my lips.
“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”
I’m startled by the sound of the lock turning as my apartment door swings open ten minutes later. Jared stands there in the doorway, looking around the apartment for me. I gave him a key because he’s the only person I trust with it. When his eyes land on mine, he shuts the door and strides toward me, scooping me into his arms.
“Kira, please tell me what’s going on,” he pleads.
I look up at him, a tear sliding down my face. I don’t want him to know I failed, but he will find out eventually anyway, and I don’t have anyone else to talk to.
“I’m losing my apartment,” I explain.
“What? Why?” Jared asks, confused.
“They’re raising the rent, and I can’t afford it. I’ve already looked, and there’s nowhere else in my budget. I don’t know what I’m going to do, Jared.” My voice cracks.
He rubs my back, comforting me. Jared has always been there for me. Even when he doesn’t know what’s upsetting me, he’s there to keep me from falling apart.
I look up at him and see his eyes are already fixed on me. Emotions war in his eyes as he runs his fingers over my hair.
“Why don’t I ask my dad if you can move in with us? We have the space, and you’re already like part of the family. Plus, you’re there half of the time anyway.”
I shake my head. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I don’t want to cause any more stress for him.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t. I’ll talk to him.”
He grabs his phone and walks out of my apartment into the hallway. I hear his muffled voice and hope that Noah isn’t upset. I don’t want him to be disappointed in me. I wanted to be able to do this on my own.
The door opens, and Jared steps back into the room.
“He’s on his way,” Jared tells me.
“Here? Right now?” I ask.
“Yep, all I did was tell him that you needed a place to stay, and he said he was leaving now and hung up.”
Oh god, is he mad? Is he coming so he can tell me no face-to-face? He wouldn’t do that, would he? He’s going to be so disappointed. Jared notices the shift in my mood and grabs my arm.
“It’s okay, it’ll be fine,” he assures.
A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts, and Jared moves to open it, letting Noah in.
As soon as he enters the room, his gaze meets mine, taking me in. I must look like a mess, sitting on my bed, still wearing my sleep shirt from last night. My face is undoubtedly red and splotchy from crying, and I have not brushed my hair today.
“Jared, go get Kira some dinner,” he orders.
Jared looks at me as if asking for permission, and I nod slowly. He turns for the door and walks out, closing it softly.
“Talk to me,” Noah says, sitting on the bed beside me.
I can’t think, especially with his warm body this close to mine. All I want is for him to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be alright.
“ Kira, ”
I let out a shaky sigh.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m losing my apartment. I failed.”
“Don’t say that. This is not your fault,” he asserts.
When I don’t respond, he brings his hand to my chin, guiding me to look at him. My stomach flips, heat radiating from his touch.
We’ve never been this close before.
“You’re moving in with us,” he says firmly.
I shake my head, “No, you don’t have to do that. I’m not your responsibility.”
“ Princess, ” his knuckles graze my jaw before he drops his hand.
“You’ll always be my responsibility.”
A soft knock sounds at the door, and Noah stands to get it. Jared emerges from the doorway, carrying two large bags of what looks like Chinese food. I chuckle to myself. That’s going to be way too much.
The three of us sit cross-legged on my bed, takeout containers spread out between us. Jared put on Married At First Sight —one of our favorites—and he’s completely immersed, nodding along as if he were part of the drama unfolding on screen. I push a noodle around with my chopsticks, my appetite coming and going in waves.
Noah glances at me more than once, and every time, my stomach tightens. I can ’ t shake what he said earlier. I don ’ t want him to think I ’ m some helpless girl who needs to be taken care of.
Eventually, the boys gather their things. Jared gives me a reassuring squeeze on the leg before heading for the door. “ You can move in tomorrow if you want,” he says with a grin.
I let out a small laugh. “ It ’ ll take me more than a day to pack up my entire life.”
But not much longer than that.
A week passes, and my apartment looks nothing like it once did. The walls are bare, the counters empty, my life compressed into a handful of worn-out boxes. It turns out I don ’ t own much.
Today ’ s the day. By sunset, I ’ ll be at the lake house.
Jared and Noah are supposed to be here soon to help me finish moving, and I remind myself, again, that this is temporary.
Just a stepping stone until I get back on my feet. But no matter how many times I repeat it, the bitter taste of failure lingers. My mother was right. I couldn’t do it on my own.
A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. Jared bursts in, energy buzzing off him, and within minutes, we ’ re loading the last of my things into Noah’s truck. It happens too fast, too smoothly. Before I know it, the place is empty.
I linger in the doorway, fingers tightening around my key. Shame presses against my ribs like a vice. Turning back, I let my gaze sweep across the apartment one last time as if searching for some proof that this wasn’t all for nothing.
I find none.
With a slow breath, I lock the door behind me.
The drive to the lake house is quiet, just the hum of the engine and the rhythmic beat of my own thoughts. I follow behind Noah, my hands tightening on the wheel. Despite everything, a small part of me is relieved. Excited, even.
The lake house has always felt more like home than my mother ’ s ever did. It ’ s where I spent summer nights wrapped in a blanket on the dock, where laughter echoed against the water, where I felt—safe.
Carrying the last box up the narrow staircase, I step into the guest room. Warm afternoon light filters through the large eight-pane window, casting golden streaks across the wooden floors. The sloped ceiling makes the space feel tucked away, almost like a secret. The four-poster bed dominates the room, draped in soft, ivory linens. Matching nightstands frame either side, and the vanity sits in the corner, waiting for me.
For the first time in days, my chest loosens.
I set the box down gently and run my hand over the smooth surface of the dresser. Then, with a quiet sigh, I start unpacking.