David
David’s phone buzzed just as he st epped out of the shower, water still dripping onto the tiled floor as he
snatched it from the counter. The name Marcy - Realtor lit up the screen, and he hesitated for a moment before
answering. “David? Hi, it’s Marcy,” her voice came through, bright and professional. “I think I’ve found the
perfect place for you. It’s exactly what you were looking for—great light, modern kitchen, close to the city but
still quiet enough for some peace of mind. When can we set up a viewing?” David blinked, caught off guard.
“Uh, thanks, Marcy, but... I wasn’t looking for a place.” There was a brief silence on the other end before her
tone faltered. “Oh, wait—this isn’t right. I must have mixed up my notes. This was for Lena, wasn’t it? My
mistake.” Her name hit him like a punch to the gut. “Lena?” he echoed, his throat tightening. “Yes, she reached
out about rentals. We talked briefly about what she wanted. This new listing just came on the market, and it’s
perfect for what she described.” Marcy sounded apologetic. “I’m so sorry, David. I didn’t mean to call you
about this. I’ll touch base with Lena—” “Wait,” David interrupted. His mind was already racing, an idea
forming. “Tell me about the place.”
Marcy hesitated. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t think—” “I’m sure,” he said firmly, already pulling on a shirt
and heading toward the door. “When can I see it?” The apartment was exactly as Marcy had described:
stunning. Floor- to-ceiling windows let in streams of golden light, filling the open-plan living area with warmth.
The kitchen was sleek and modern, with marble countertops and brand-new appliances. The master bedroom
overlooked a quiet, tree-lined street, and there was even a small, private balcony—perfect for Lena’s morning
ritual of tea and emails. David walked through the space, his st eps deliberate as he took it all in. His hand
brushed over the cool marble countertops, the smooth edges of the built-in shelves. It was Lena, through and
through. From the clean lines of the design to the quiet sense of peace the space offered, it felt like a haven she
could rebuild in—a home where she could find her footing again. Marcy watched him from the doorway, her
clipboard tucked under her arm. “Do you think she’d like it?” she asked hesitantly, clearly unsure why David
was here instead of Lena. David stared out at the balcony, imagining her there. Unpacking books, organizing
her life, finally settling into a place where she could heal. His heart ached at the thought, but it was tinged with
purpose. “She’d love it,” he said softly, his voice heavy with certainty. Marcy shifted, still confused. “Well, I
can give her a call, set up a time for her to see it—” “No,” David cut in, turning to face her. His jaw was set, his
expression resolute. “I’ll take it.” Marcy blinked, startled. “But... are you sure? I thought this was for —”
“I’m sure,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She doesn’t need to deal with this right now. I’ll
handle everything—the paperwork, the d eposit, all of it.” This wasn’t new to him. David had always been the
one to handle their arrangements, from booking vacations to managing their social calendar. He’d k ept track of
utilities, filed taxes, even reminded Lena of her team’s birthdays. He knew her preferences, her quirks, her
needs, better than anyone else. If there was one thing he could still do for her, one thing to ease her burden, it
was this. Marcy hesitated but eventually nodded, pulling out the necessary forms. “Alright, if you’re sure,” she
said, her tone cautious. “I’m sure,” David r epeated, signing the paperwork with steady hands. He could give her
this—a space to start over, free of the weight of their shared mistakes. It was the least he could do.