“That isn’t the point.”
I looked at him.
He looked away first.
Near midnight, 4B looked like my apartment again.
Not perfectly.
There were boxes everywhere, and my clothes were still packed, and I knew I would spend hours figuring out whether anything else had been damaged.
But my bed was back in my bedroom.
My sofa was where it belonged.
My key still fit my lock.
That mattered more than I expected.
Mateo’s boxes were stacked in the hallway again.
I leaned against my kitchen counter.
“So where are you going?”
He adjusted one cuff.
“I’ll survive.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you need.”
There was the arrogance again.
Strangely, it bothered me less now.
I nodded toward the armed men.
“You always move with this much security?”
His eyes rested on me for a second.
“Usually more.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking.
With Mateo, that seemed intentional.
I looked toward the door.
“Your lease is still valid too, according to Mr.
Lynn.”
“Yes.”
“So he has two valid leases connected to the same apartment mess.”
“Which is why my attorney will have an unpleasant conversation with him tomorrow.”
A tired laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
Mateo’s eyebrow lifted.
“What?”
“Nothing.
I’m just glad somebody else gets to ruin Mr.
Lynn’s morning.”
That almost earned a smile.
Almost.
The next afternoon, I received an email from building management.
This time, everything was in writing.
My tenancy in 4B would remain unchanged for the rest of my lease term.
The attempted reassignment to 4C was withdrawn.
My rent would remain the amount stated in my original agreement.
Management would reimburse documented damage from the unauthorized move and arrange, at my convenience, for a professional team to unpack anything I wanted assistance with.
There was also an apology.
A painfully formal one.
I read it three times anyway.
Mr.
Lynn called later.
I almost ignored him.
Then I answered.
“Elena, I wanted to personally apologize for how yesterday was handled.”
“You mean badly?”
“Yes.”
He sounded exhausted.
