Mira's POV
You can't just have a lease to MY apartment!
My voice echoed off the walls. Too loud. Too angry. I didn't care.
Ryder this complete stranger standing in my grandmother's kitchen like he owned the place just looked at me with those calm grey eyes. Like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
I can, he said quietly. And I do.
I wanted to scream. To throw something. To make him feel even a tiny bit of what I was feeling right now.
Instead, I looked down at the paper in my shaking hands. The lease agreement. It had my grandmother's signature at the bottom. Her handwriting. The loops and curves I'd know anywhere.
This was real.
When did she sign this? I demanded.
Six months ago.
Six months. Before she died. Before the engagement party. Before everything fell apart.
Why? The word came out broken. Why would she do this?
Ryder set down his coffee mug. Moved toward me. I stepped back, my shoes squelching water onto the hardwood floor.
Your grandmother was a smart woman, he said. She knew you'd need this place.
Need it? I laughed. It sounded crazy even to me. I didn't even know about it until last week!
But you're here now, Ryder pointed out. Aren't you?
I hated that he was right.
I looked around the apartment for the first time. Really looked. It was small. A living room that connected to a kitchen. Two doors that probably led to a bedroom and bathroom. Nothing fancy. Nothing like Marcus's penthouse with its floor-to-ceiling windows and designer furniture.
But it felt... warm. Safe. Like coming home.
Which made no sense because I'd never been here before.
How do you know my grandmother? I asked. How do you know my name? Why are there yellow tulips on that counter?
Too many questions. They spilled out all at once.
Ryder's expression changed. Just for a second. Something soft. Almost sad.
Mrs. Chen was my friend, he said. I lived in this building. We talked sometimes.
Talked about what?
Life. Work. Family. He paused. You.
My stomach dropped. Me?
She was proud of you. Talked about you all the time. Her brilliant granddaughter. The lawyer. The one who was going to do great things.
Tears burned my eyes. I blinked them back hard. I would not cry in front of this stranger.
If you were such good friends, why didn't she mention you? My voice was sharp. Defensive.
Did you tell her everything? Ryder asked gently.
No. I didn't. I never told Grandmother about Marcus working late. About Vanessa's weird comments. About feeling like something was wrong but being too scared to look.
I never told her I gave up art school to make my father happy. That I hated corporate law but was too proud to admit it. That sometimes I looked at my life and didn't recognize the person I'd become.
This is insane, I said. I can't... I can't deal with this right now.
My phone buzzed again. And again. And again.
I pulled it out. Fifty-three text messages. Twenty-two missed calls. My social media apps had hundreds of notifications.
I opened one text. From a number I didn't recognize:
Saw what happened. That's what you get for being such a cold b
I threw the phone across the room. It hit the couch and bounced onto the floor.
Careful, Ryder said. You'll break it.
I don't care! The words burst out of me. Let it break! Let everything break! It's all ruined anyway!
And then I was crying. Really crying. Not the silent tears from earlier. Big, ugly sobs that shook my whole body.
I sank onto the floor right there in the entryway. Soaking wet. Makeup running. Wedding dress torn. Everything destroyed.
I waited for Ryder to tell me to get up. To stop being dramatic. To pull myself together like my father would say.
Instead, he grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders. Then he sat down on the floor next to me. Not touching. Just there.
It's okay, he said quietly. You can fall apart. This is a safe place.
That made me cry harder.
We sat there in silence. Me crying. Him waiting.
Finally, the tears stopped. I felt empty. Wrung out. Like there was nothing left inside me.
I have nowhere to go, I whispered. Marcus's place is his. My dad's house... I can't go there. Not after... I couldn't finish.
You can stay here, Ryder said.
I looked at him. You just said you have a lease.
I do. We both do. That's the point of the thirty-day clause. He stood up, offered me his hand. Come on. I'll show you the bedroom.
I didn't take his hand. Pushed myself up on my own. The blanket fell off my shoulders.
I'm not staying in a bedroom with you, I said.
You're not. Ryder picked up the blanket, folded it neatly. You get the bedroom. I'll take the couch.
Why would you do that?
He looked at me for a long moment. Because you need it more than I do right now.
I didn't know what to say to that.
He walked to one of the doors and opened it. Bathroom's through there. There are towels in the cabinet. Your grandmother left some of her things. Clothes might fit you.
Then he grabbed his coffee mug and moved to the couch. Like it was decided. Like there was no argument.
I stood there dripping on the floor, watching this stranger make himself comfortable in what should be my apartment.
Who are you really? I asked.
Ryder looked up. In the soft light, his grey eyes looked almost silver. Right now? I'm your roommate.
For thirty days.
If you last that long.
There was a challenge in his voice. A tiny smile on his face.
And suddenly, I was angry again. Good. Anger was better than sadness.
I'll last, I said. And I'll make sure you don't.
We'll see.
I grabbed my phone from the floor and walked to the bedroom. Slammed the door behind me. Locked it.
Then I turned around and froze.
The room was perfect. A big bed with soft-looking blankets. A reading chair by the window. Bookshelves filled with my favorite books. Art supplies expensive ones stacked in the corner.
How did Grandmother know?
I walked to the dresser. Opened the top drawer.
Inside was a letter. My name written on the envelope in my grandmother's handwriting.
My hands shook as I picked it up.
The envelope wasn't sealed. Inside was a single page. I unfolded it and read:
My dearest Mira,
If you're reading this, something went very wrong. I hoped you wouldn't need this place. I prayed your life would be everything you wanted.
But if you're here, it means you need a fresh start. And you need to learn something important.
Home isn't what you think it is.
Give Ryder a chance. I know it seems strange. I know you'll have questions. But trust me, my darling girl. Trust him.
Everything I've done is for you.
With all my love,Grandmother
I read it three times.
Give Ryder a chance? Trust him?
She planned this. Whatever this was, Grandmother planned it before she died.
I walked back to the door. Unlocked it. Opened it a crack.
Ryder was on the couch, reading a book. He looked comfortable. Like he belonged here.
Who are you? I asked again. Quieter this time.
He looked up. Met my eyes.
Ask me again in thirty days, he said. When you know the answer, you can decide if you want me to leave.
Then he went back to his book.
I closed the door. Locked it again.
My phone buzzed one more time. I looked at the screen.
A text from an unknown number:
You don't know him. But he knows everything about you. Ask him about the gallery. Ask him why he really moved in. Ask him what your grandmother promised him.
A Friend
Ice ran through my veins.
What gallery? What promise?
I looked at the door. At the stranger on the other side.
Ryder wasn't here by accident. This wasn't just some random lease agreement.
My grandmother had set this up. But why?
And what did Ryder want from me?
I had thirty days to find out.
But something told me the truth was going to cost me more than I was ready to pay.