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I have one more month left on my current lease until I need to renew, but with paying money on this apartment, plus the money I need to live and renovate in Whispers, my bank balance is taking a beating, and it isn’t sustainable. But I can’t move permanently without long-term job prospects. The work I am doing with Griffin is great, but it could be a one-time thing. It may not lead to anything.
Like everything else in my life, though, I will figure it out. When I want something enough, I always do. Withthat thought lodging in my brain and in my heart, I head to my bedroom and pack two bags with as much as I can fit, knowing that my time living in this apartment is most likely coming to an end.
Because in Whispers and with Tanner is where I want to be.
43
TANNER
Ipick up a framed photo and smirk. It is of her and her mother, taken a few decades ago, I would bet. Obviously, Halloween or a party because they are both dressed up. Her mom is a witch and Victoria is in a round pumpkin suit, with an orange face. My eyes canvass the entire shelf of photos. They are all of her and her mom, a few of her and Fiona, but no men. None of Josh or her father.
Putting it down, I walk around some more. It is small, quaint. Decorated extremely well. I can even see some of her uniqueness for finding quality decor, as the fabric of the cushions on her sofa look like nothing I have seen before yet match the rug almost perfectly. Both eye-catching and subtle.
When she mentioned at lunch the other day that she still had her apartment, I was dumbfounded. Shocked, really, because I thought she was all in on Whispers. On me. I have felt a little off since then, wondering if she isn’t feeling the same connection to me as I am to her. It feelsgood together. I have never felt like this with anyone before, not like I do with her. She said that she kept it as a backup, which does make sense the more I thought about it. A young woman coming to a small town on her own, you always need a backup plan. But I hope now we can gather her things and she can be a permanent Whispers resident.
I can’t help it that the fear of another woman leaving still haunts me.
A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.
“Can you answer that?” she calls out, and I turn and open the door.
“Oh, you’re not Victoria,” an older man says with a frown.
“Tanner Whiteman. Victoria is just busy at the moment,” I tell him, sizing him up.
“Well, this is her lease renewal,” he says, holding up some paperwork. My heart feels like it stops.
“Lease renewal?” I understand she kept this apartment for a backup, but why does she need to renew again? She is staying in Whispers, isn’t she?
“Twelve months, as is required. She just needs to sign and then send them back.” He pushes the papers into my hand, and I swallow roughly as I nod to him. Grinding my jaw, my fear mixes with frustration and confusion.
“Have a good day,” he says, turning and walking away like he didn’t just drop a bomb on my life. My gut feels heavy as I look at the paperwork, my eyes running over what it entails.
“Who was it?” she asks from behind me as she places two bags near the sofa.
I close the door and turn to face her.
“You’re renewing your lease?” I ask her, but my words come out with bite. My body is thrumming, and she looks a little taken aback, so I take a deep breath and try to get a handle on my feelings.
“Oh. It is building policy. I have one more month on the current lease, and then… I mean, I have no idea how I will do with the job Griffin gave me. If it doesn’t work out, then—”
“It will work out, baby girl,” I cut her off, my shoulders lowering a little. I understand her concern.
“But Tanner…”
“No buts. Tear it up.” I hold the papers out to her. I feel tense, like she is slipping from me, and I don’t like it. The papers in my hand crumple at the corners due to how tightly I am gripping them.
“Tanner,” she says my name in warning, and my frown is back.
“Tear it up,” I grit out, needing to see her commit to staying in Whispers. With me. She can’t leave me. I don’t think I could take it.
“You’re not letting me finish. I need to look after myself. Once I know how things are panning out, I can make a more permanent decision.” I can tell she’s becoming upset as her eyes narrow and her hand finds her hip, and it brings me back to how we started. All that bickering and fire, only this time, it’s more sad than it is exciting. She’s not getting it. That I’d do anything for her.
“I can look after you,” I tell her simply, hoping to ease her fears, but her frown deepens.
“I don’t want you to look after me. I can look after myself.”
I should have known she would be stubborn.
