She slid into his arms, coat and all. “I am.”
“Good.” He led her into the kitchen, taking her coat and hat as she shucked off her layers.
She could feel the tingle in her cheeks as the warmth of the apartment came into contact with her cold skin. She shivered.
“Here.” Will thrust a mug of coffee toward her. She noted the logo of Madison’s alma mater on it before taking a sip. “Oh, Clara brought your mail when she was here last week.”
Hannah nodded and shuffled through the small stack. Clara had taken time to sort out Jonathan’s mail and the daily mailers that flooded their mailbox each week. The menial task and the coffee would help calm Hannah further, and then she would tell him about the donation.
She stopped on a letter addressed to her. Her stomach turned over as she read the return address. Mail from her landlord was never good and usually resulted in her rent being increased by some exorbitant percentage.
Hannah scanned the letter—ten-day notice, lease violation, unauthorized subtenant, termination of tenancy. This was not happening. She flipped the envelope over to find the postmark dated two weeks ago. Had she been evicted? If so, where was her stuff? She crumpled the letter in her hand.
“Will,” she called, even though he was sitting across from her at the table. Panic rose in her voice. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
Will took the wrinkled letter from her and scanned it. His expression darkened as he read. “Dammit.”
“What happened?”
He held out a halting hand. “Your landlord found out about the sublet somehow. Maybe something broke, or there was a complaint. Did your landlord call you at all?”
Hannah thought of her neighbors. She couldn’t imagine them complaining unless the person had been awfully loud. The older couple next door did not like loud neighbors. “No, but my landlord is always in the building, and the super lives there. And we have a doorman.”
“Right—someone probably told your landlord that you haven’t been around for a few months.” He stopped. “Subletting isn’t allowed in all leases, but as long as there are no major issues and the rent gets paid, people tend to look the other way.”
She followed his train of thought with a sinking feeling. “We violated the lease?”
He picked up the envelope and cursed under his breath. “Technically, yes, but it should’ve been no different than if you’d let a friend crash for a few months. Everything was still in your name. You still paid all the bills.”
Panic bubbled in her chest. “Can we fight it? Or pay a fine or something?”
Will pulled a face. “Possibly. It depends on how badly your landlord wants you out of the building. Is it really worth it?”
Something in Hannah cracked. All that anger and resentment and fear she had yet to sort through from the past few weeks mixed with Madison and Jonathan and Will’s god-awful apartment. She had trusted him when he said it would be fine. Kate had backed him up. They both told her nothing would go wrong. But something had gone wrong.
As if sensing her panic, Will reached out and stroked her arm. “Hannah, it’s fine. I’ll call the landlord. We’ll get it figured out.”
Hannah jerked away. “I needed that apartment. I can barely afford the prices in Queens, and now no one good will want to rent to me. We can’t all quit our jobs and not have to worry about keeping a roof over our heads. Our home is gone, this apartment is tainted, and now my apartment, which I worked so hard for, is being ripped away from me.” She slammed her hands down on the coffee table. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a decent pet-friendly apartment in this city? One that a journalist can afford? If this”—she motioned between the two of them—“doesn’t work out, I’ll have nowhere to go.”
“You mean when.”
Hannah froze. All the energy drained out of her. Those words and thoughts and fears hadn’t been for Will’s ears. They weren’t for anyone but Hannah to pine over in the middle of the night alone in Boston.
She met his gaze. “What?”
“You meant when this doesn’t work out, right?” He took a step back. “You need your apartment. Why? Because you can’t get past the Madison thing? Or because you never thought we’d make it a year?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It is exactly what you said.”
“It’s not what I meant. That’s not how I feel.”
He held his hands up, stopping her advances. “I think that is how you feel.”
“Will, don’t.” She wanted to put as much energy into her denial as she’d put into the vitriol she’d spouted at him, but she felt helpless. The last weeks had taken everything from her. And now they were taking Will. She couldn’t stop it. She’d said those things, and a part of her—no matter how small—had meant them.
He picked up his phone and keys from the table. “I’ve got to go.”
She grabbed his arm. “Please. I didn’t mean it. It’s just—”
“No,” Will said, his expression completely closed off. “Whatever you’re about to say, whatever excuse you’re trying to make, I don’t want to hear it. Not right now.”
She released his arm and wrapped herself in a hug. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be at Daniel’s.”
“Please don’t do this.”
He reached for her but then seemingly thought better of it. “Be safe in Boston.”
The door closed behind him. Hannah stood there for a long while, watching that closed door. It should’ve opened again. That was how these things worked. The guy always turned around and came back or was waiting on the other side of the door. But this was real life, and Will was gone.
Chapter 48Hannah
Will was gone. Hannah had climbed into his bed two hours ago and hadn’t moved since. She swallowed a sob as a fresh waterfall of tears wet her pillow. Their fight ran through her mind on repeat. It wasn’t just that she’d voiced doubts—of course, she’d had doubts—but she’d been cruel. They’d bound their lives without thoughts of the consequences or how they fit together. But they’d risen above it, and for a few blissful weeks, it was perfect. The last two weeks in Boston had illuminated how reckless they’d been. Coming back to New York had reinforced that idea, but it also showed Hannah that she was in this relationship for better or worse. If she walked away, she would do so with regrets. She never wanted to regret Will Thorne.
