Chapter 1Claimed By My Savior Roommate

My boyfriend always had this habit of whispering sweet nothings into my ear after he thought I’d fallen asleep. Little things. Baby. Wifey. I love you so much.

I had caught him doing it a few times before, but I was always too exhausted to keep my eyes open, letting the exhaustion pull me under.

Tonight, though, I wanted to tease him. I kept my breathing even, feigning sleep.

Right on cue, his voice dropped into that low, soulful register. "Sweetheart. I love you the most..."

My heart melted into a puddle. I cracked my eyes open, throwing my arms wide to pull him into a massive, suffocating hug.

Only to find him staring at the glowing screen of his phone, his thumb holding down the voice memo button on iMessage.

* * *

My arms hung suspended in the dark. To hug, or not to hug.

Time seemed to freeze in our dimly lit bedroom. It would have stayed frozen, too, if Tyler hadn't suddenly looked up, his eyes going wide with sheer panic.

He shoved the phone behind his back so fast I heard his elbow crack against the headboard. His mouth opened and closed, but no actual words came out.

Slowly, I retracted my awkward, hovering arms. I shoved down the sudden, violent spike of adrenaline in my chest and forced a painfully calm smile. "Who are you sending voice notes to?"

Tyler scooted backward, pressing himself against the wall. "Harper... it's not what you think..."

"Give me the phone."

He let out a hollow, synthetic laugh. "Haha, come on, I was just messing around with the boys!"

"I said, give me the phone."

What happened next genuinely blew my mind. In the span of three seconds, Tyler’s expression underwent a masterclass in manipulation. When he looked back up at me, his face was a perfectly calibrated mix of thirty percent innocent, forty percent pathetic, and thirty percent deeply offended.

His voice actually trembled when he spoke. "Harper! It's for my work! Is this really the kind of person you think I am?"

I didn't quite understand the sheer audacity of it, but I was spectacularly awestruck.

"Tyler, let's get one thing straight. You're the one sexting someone else in our bed. Who exactly gave you the audacity to point the finger at me?"

I was so furiously angry that a laugh tore out of my throat. I actually started clapping, offering a slow ovation for his performance.

I had to admit, the way the corners of his eyes flushed pink, the way his unshed tears caught the bedside light—he looked beautiful. If he didn't, I never would have given him the time of day to begin with.

He was a D-list TikTok thirst-trap, a guy who built an audience by flexing his abs and looking pretty for the camera. He had slid into my DMs claiming he was "obsessed" with the menswear I designed, asking to borrow a few pieces for a shoot. He borrowed the clothes, and eventually, he borrowed his way into my apartment.

I was not a woman who believed in love.

But Tyler... Tyler was relentless. He was the Good morning, the Did you eat?, the Goodnight texts. He was the one who always had to send the last message. He remembered Valentine's Day, our anniversaries, the little mundane milestones, slowly, painstakingly building a glittering illusion of romance around me.

And now, with his own hands, he had shattered it.

My chest felt like it had been carved out with a rusted spoon, but I have always been fiercely proud.

I never believed in it anyway, I told myself. Tyler just slipped up and let the mask drop. He was nothing but a harsh lesson, a cosmic reminder that I was right to never expect anything from love. He was an empty, vacuous thing wrapped in attractive packaging. He was a songbird I kept in a gilded cage, and if the bird couldn't stay loyal, I simply wouldn't keep him.

I am the one throwing him away.

I repeated the mantra in my head, desperately trying to convince myself, but the tears blurred my vision anyway, hot and entirely out of my control.

"Harper, please..." Tyler leaned in, trying to use his usual boyish charm to coax me down.

Except this time, I took a step back. I dodged him.

"I messed up. I swear on my life I'll never do it again, okay?"

I crossed my arms defensively over my chest, staring at him. I let the silence stretch out, heavy and suffocating.

Tyler abruptly grabbed the water glass from the nightstand and hurled it onto the hardwood floor. It shattered into a hundred pieces. "Fine! Then let's break up!"

"Done."

My immediate, icy response must have stung his fragile ego. He looked stunned, and then, like a petulant toddler throwing a tantrum, he screamed, "Get the hell out! I never want to see you again!"

I rolled my eyes, turned on my heel, and marched out to the living room to pack my bags.

As a freelance fashion designer hustling from the ground up, I was constantly flying between coasts, living out of suitcases. I barely spent any time at home. If the post-pandemic industry slowdown hadn't forced me to take a breather, I never would have been home long enough to discover my boyfriend's little secret.

I didn't have much unpacked anyway. It took me exactly ten minutes to zip up my duffel bag.

But right as my hand hit the front doorknob, I froze.

Wait a damn minute. I pay the rent on this apartment!

The realization hit me like a freight train, followed instantly by a wave of pure rage. I dropped my bag with a heavy thud and marched right back into the bedroom.

When Tyler saw me walk back in, the corner of his mouth twitched upward into a smug little smirk. He fully believed I’d changed my mind, that I couldn't bear to leave him.

Once upon a time, I thought his boyish arrogance was somewhat endearing. Now, I just wondered how someone so young could be so utterly repulsive.

I mirrored his smile, drew in a deep breath from my diaphragm, and said, "Get the hell out."