The Novel Apartments Novels & Stories

Chapter 73 Isabella had found a new apartment—simple, yet cozy—completely different from her family home, which was filled with memories of her childhood and traces of Irene. The apartment was suggested by Peter, her editor, who always seemed to know what was best for her. Despite its simplicity, the apartment had a modern, efficient design, with large windows overlooking a small garden outside, giving Isabella the peaceful atmosphere she needed. She spent the entire morning cleaning and organizing the space, hoping this new place could be a fresh start for her.

Saint asked as he came up behind me. I nodded. Torn between tears and giggles, a watery snort escaped before I could calm myself down. Perfect copies of my apartment sat like some kind of building project a little kid put together. Rows upon rows, columns after columns of my apartment lined the street. And they weren't only covering the warehouse where Scarlet used to hide away. No, these apartments were running the length of the street in both directions. Stacked about five apartments high along the full length of it. The worst part was the fact that the wall that faced the street...huge walls of windows. Anyone walking down the street could see into them.

She turned on her heel and walked away. Mrs. Nicole didn’t stop her. I watched her disappear into the night, feeling like I had just made a choice I couldn’t take back. Mrs. Nicole finally turned to me. “Come on,” she said softly. And just like that, my life changed. The Apartment The apartment wasn’t big, but it was more than I had in years. A tiny studio space with a kitchenette, a worn-out couch, and a bed pushed against the wall. It smelled like lavender and something sweet, like fresh bread.

Then the boys found our other apartment in the same building. It isn’t until apartment 3 that I fall in love. It’s perfect. Open windows. Similar to ours back in Boston. And what’s even better there are two across the hall from each other. In our price range? check. Open windows? check. Double sink? check. Big kitchen? check with lots of bench space for baking. “It even has space for a living room slash office.” Kingston says as we finish our final inspection before making an offer. The anxiety in my chest eases when we sign our names. Committing for a year beginning August. As Josie and Austen sign as well. It’s offical we will be neighbours in New York.

My teammates hit me with a string of question marks when my hero stood idle and failed to hold the base. Frustrated, I quit the game and opened WhatsApp. The message was from Jacob Zeller, who lived downstairs from me. He was my roommate in college. There were four of us sharing a dorm, and we were pretty tight. While we were interning, we decided to job hunt together and moved into a cheaper apartment to lower our rent. Once everyone had a job, our hours were all over the place, so we each got an apartment to keep from getting in each other's way. We still grab a meal together from time to time.

It was her chance to settle in China and start building a future, even if the Apartment was tiny and expensive at $900 a month. The Apartment was a small, one-room furnished space with a bathroom, kitchen, dining area, and living room. Out of twelve apartments in the building, eleven were already taken. The empty one was on the left. Janiya struggled to carry her luggage up five steps to the elevator before finally getting inside. Once there, she took about thirty minutes to settle in and change into something more comfortable. Since it was a hot day, she put on shorts and a halter top, ready to start cleaning.

My life had turned into a complete nightmare. We drove to the new apartment without saying much. It was this fancy building right near the rink, all glass windows and elevators that smelled like fresh paint and rich people. When we stepped inside, I dumped my bag in the smaller bedroom and just flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling like it had answers. Roland didn’t give a damn about personal space. He walked around like he’d lived here his whole life, kicking off his shoes and ordering pasta on his phone like this was normal.

-Get back here as soon as possible, I’m waiting! I flipped my phone close, dropped it in my bag, turned on the steering and zoomed off. *** 5:00pm I pushed the door to my apartment open, I didn’t have to look around for long before I sighted Novan sitting on the couch in the living room, immediately the door beeped open, he looked up and got up to his feet. My heart began to pound in my chest as I stepped into the apartment, I made sure I did not slam the door shut, because I might need to run away if he tries to move funny.

I had always been careful about my space. My apartment was small, yes, but it was mine, a carefully curated refuge where every shelf, every cushion, every book had a place. I liked it that way—neat, predictable, controlled. But when I posted the ad for a new roommate, I hadn’t expected Mara. And yet, the instant she stepped across the threshold, I realized I would never see my apartment the same way again.

I wanted silence to think in. The apartment I’d booked was on a narrow street lined with pastel buildings and wrought-iron balconies dripping with laundry. Fourth floor, no elevator. I climbed the stairs slowly, letting the burn in my thighs ground me. The key was in a lockbox; the code still worked. Inside: one bedroom, one bathroom, a tiny kitchen that smelled faintly of garlic and old cigarettes. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a courtyard where someone was already hanging washing at 7 a.m. I dropped the duffel on the bed. Opened the laptop.