22
Sam
I hefted a box into my arms and tossed it onto the top of the stack I’d made in the one spare corner of my apartment.
“That’s the last of it,” I said to my now-empty apartment.
After how hard I’d f****d up with Lark, I’d come home to my apartment and seen Claire staring back at me from every available space. She wouldn’t be back until the end of the summer, when we’d have to decide what to do about our shared place. But I couldn’t keep having her stuff in my face.
If I was going to live here for another couple of months, I couldn’t see her every day. Not like this. Not if I was going to move on.
Even though it had been nearly two in the morning, I’d started packing. And I’d kept packing all week in the time I had after I got home from work.
And that was the last of it.
It me
