The Roommate Mix-up

Chapter 2: The Roommate Mix-up

A few weeks later…

“Sign here and we'll be done with this.”

My hand moved immediately, scribbling my signature on the divorce papers in front of me. My soon-to-be ex-husband, Austin Lowell, sat across from me. His face a mask of guilt and shame.

The scar on his brow? My best work so far.

I've known him for nine years since our college days and we've been married for five years. But all that was gone now.

The bastard betrayed me.

I slid the fountain pen across the table and swallowed the lump in my throat. “That's everything, right?”

Austin looked up from his phone and gave a stiff nod, “My lawyer will file it before noon.”

I hated how composed he was in that darn charcoal suit. As if he never hurt me. As if we didn't spend many nights naming our imaginary children.

I picked up my purse and stood to leave. “I'll be leaving first.”

He got up too. And for the first time since today, looked me in the eye. “Rena, I'm truly sorry for what I did. I never meant to hurt you. I hope you understand.”

He didn't sound sincere. He didn't even sound genuine.

“I hope you're both miserable together.”

With that, I left.

I could finally breathe when I walked out of the lawyer's office and was greeted with the familiar face of my uncle, Marcus. Delaney’s father.

He was smoking a cigarette while waiting outside, leaning against his black GMC truck.

He tossed his cigarette to the ground upon seeing me, “Is it done?”

“Yes.”

As soon as those words left my lips, it fully landed on me with a crushing weight.

My marriage was finally over. And I was foolish enough to still be in love with my cheating ex-husband.

A sob escaped my lips and before I knew it, I was sobbing into uncle Marcus's shirt in public. With him, I didn't need to be strong.

He had seen me at my worst.

“I'm sorry.” I apologized for his ruined shirt.

“Promise me you'll never cry for that coward again, Serena.”

I nodded.

“Good. Let's get the hell out of here.”

The car ride to my new apartment was quiet. Except for the low volume of the radio. My head was pounding. I just needed to throw myself on a mattress and sleep for a full day.

“Have you confirmed with your room mate on her moving-in date?” Marcus asked.

I shook my head, leaning against the side of the car. “I haven't even spoken to her.”

“You should.”

“I don't think there's anything to be said. Kylie can stay on her own side of the apartment and I'll stay on mine.”

“You know that's not true. If you truly wished to be alone, you wouldn't have asked for a room mate. Your life shouldn't end because your marriage did.”

“I don't want to talk about that anymore.” I muttered. “I have friends. I don't need a crowd. Tessa is more than enough.”

“As you wish.”

The car pulled to a screeching stop in front of the building. It looked modern but not flashy. Upscale enough to be considered safe, but not extravagant.

“It's perfect.”

“Are you sure it's safe here?”

“You sound like my dad.”

His jaw twitched. “I just want you to be careful.”

I unbuckled and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I always am. Thank you for being here for me.”

The usual mask of guilt that had learnt to rear up its ugly head since his daughter, Delaney, stabbed me in the back, made its appearance again.

“I want you to know that I don't support what Delaney did.”

“I know.”

Before he could say anything else, his phone started ringing. It was her.

The call was brief and when he hung up, he turned to me and said. “I'm sorry but I've got to run now. I need to pick up Delaney from her OB-GYN. Raymond hasn't answered her call in weeks and Austin has bailed on her. Again.”

I almost laughed.

Typical Austin. He leaves the wilted flowers in the vase until they're a nasty sight. He hates responsibilities.

“Alright. I won't keep you.”

He was still parked in front of the building when I made my way into it and only drove off when I was out of sight.

I dragged my suitcase to apartment 3B down the hallway that weirdly smelled like fresh paint. I double-checked the key.

The door was unlocked.

Did Kylie already move in? Or had the leasing office opened it for me earlier?

The apartment was quiet, but not empty.

There were signs of life: boots by the door, a leather jacket slung over the arm of the couch. A duffel bag leaning against the hallway wall.

"Hello?" I called.

The bathroom door creaked open. A man stepped out, towel slung low on his hips, pure black hair wet and curling over his forehead. Eyes as dark as the night.

My stomach tightened, heat crawling up my spine. He was really tall.

And shit, he must have a tattoo gun addiction.

He paused when he saw me. His gaze, very intense.

I blinked. "You’re... not Kylie."

He raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "No. I’m Kyle. With no ‘I.’"

I stared at him. "There must be a mistake. Or maybe you're in the wrong room, mister. The ad said Kylie. Female roommate preferred."

He grabbed a second towel and rubbed it through his hair. "Landlord probably copied my name wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time."

"This has to be a joke."

"It’s not. I paid first and last month’s rent. Got the confirmation email to prove it."

I pulled out my phone and scrolled frantically through my unread messages. The email from the landlord was clear: Your roommate, Kylie, has already moved in. She’s quiet and respectful. Should be a perfect match!

I texted him.

Serena: I think you gave me the wrong roommate?? This isn’t Kylie. This is a man.

Landlord: So sorry! It was a typo. His name is Kyle. He’s great! Hope it works out!

Kyle was already walking toward the kitchen, unbothered and still half-naked.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered. “Did you also get a typo in your message? Like, did he tell you your room mate's a man?”

“No. It clearly stated Serena Lowell. Children's book illustrator and introvert.” He recited.

“It's Donahue. Serena Donahue.” I snapped.

He paused, then shrugged. “Whatever, sweetheart.”

“Shit! Just my luck.”

He opened the fridge. "Want a beer?"

I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly. "This is a nightmare."

"Nope," he said, cracking the can open. "This is your new reality. Welcome home, roomie."