Page 64 of The Roommate Problem
Mo had gone behind his back and conspired with his grandmother. He knew she’d been thinking of ways to help Gran save the shop—and a secret part of him had been hoping she also wanted him to stay in town—but to do this? To convince his grandmother to risk everything, take out a loan that could ruin her? The shop wasn’t raking in the cash. Which was probably why Gran needed a co-signer.
Dammit, Mo!
He didn’t care that she appeared to be risking some of her financial safety, too, with this venture. All he could focus on was the fact that the two people he thought he could trust had pushed him out of a decision. Ignoring his say, his desires.
Story of my fucking life.
All his earlier doubts flew away. He’d been right all along. The best thing for Gran was to sell the shop and take her away. Let her retire while he worked a flower farm far away from the city and meddling roommates who pretended to care about you only to stab you in the back.
When Gran got home from her girls’ weekend, he was going to have a long talk with her. This was her business, but she’d promised to discuss it with him. That’s why he was here: to help. Not to be shoved to the side and dictated his place. He’d stopped letting people run his life a long time ago. He got to have a say, and dammit, he was going to say a lot.
Clutching the paper in his hand, he stormed out of the supply room, giving a halfhearted nod to Chris as he left the shop and hopped into his car. The ten-minute drive back to the apartment did nothing for the mad he had going on. Underneath all the anger was a flowing river of sadness he had no idea what to do with. Having Gran lie to him hurt—he wouldn’t say it didn’t—but Mo…
He’d been coming to trust her. He knew she lived to the beat of her own drum and all that, but he never thought the woman he was living with, sleeping with, connecting to, would keep something this big from him. Why hadn’t she told him about her and Gran’s plan? Sure, he might have argued with her about it. Pointed out the risk of getting a loan. Questioned their business plan. All logical concerns.
Mo didn’t care about logic. She ran on dreams and starlight. But that blinded her to the reality of life, and now it could have a devastating impact on both her and his grandmother’s life. The worry and deception all rolled into one big ball of turmoil in the bottom of his gut, fueling the indignation, causing his hands to clench.
He had to calm down.
Pulling the car into his assigned parking spot, he took a few minutes. One deep calming breath after another. But once the anger subsided, all he felt was pain. The sharp pinch in his heart knowing that the two women he cared about the most didn’t feel him important enough to include him. Because yes, he did care about Mo. More than he realized. She’d wormed her way past the defenses he’d built and settled herself right in his heart.
But now what did he do?
If she’d only mentioned this before the paperwork had been signed. Let him in from the beginning.
Maybe it could still work out. He’d go in, talk to her, get her side of the story. She probably had a reason for not telling him. A very Mo reason, but a reason. Then he’d talk to Gran on Monday.
He headed inside, reasonably sure he was calm enough to talk about this rationally now. The initial hurt and anger had diminished a little. He was still mad, but he was willing to listen. They could all get past this.
But with each step he took closer to the apartment he’d been coming to think of as home, all the old feelings of not belonging crept up in his mind. And he began to wonder if he’d ever be important enough for someone.
