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“This is the home for you,” I said. “Waiting and overthinking will cost you in this market. Houses are moving fast; if a bidding war commences, it might sell over the listing price. But if you truly love it, and it feels like the place you can see yourself growing your family, that is the only guide you need. You each know what is right for you, and you don’t need my nonsense to encourage the right idea.”
“Seems you’re good with home purchasing and relationships?” Travis said, bringing his wife to his side.
“I would love to tell you I was an expert in relationships, but sadly, that is not my department. I can say this, though, your relationship is what you both make it. Your home is your refuge and something that is yours together. It’s where you can shut out the world and just be together. You both seem to love everything about the home as if it fits both of your tastes, and I honestly think it’s the correct decision. But only you two—”
“We’ll offer the full asking price and go from there. Call the listing agent now because I want my wife to be reassured that this home is hers.”
I smiled at Travis. “Give me a moment,” I said, already knowing the particulars of their financing and how to structure the deal.
I’d been looking at properties for myself on and off for years, but I had yet to come across anything that spoke to me the way this home spoke to Travis and Natasha.
It was a beautiful thing when the potential home was perfect for the couple, and I always had a sixth sense for guiding people to the right home. Call me strange, but I could feel the pull that certain people had to properties. Perhaps I just liked the idea that every house was waiting to embrace a happy family because I wanted both of those things so desperately as a child. Home never felt warm and comfortable to me; it was always a place of anguish and despair. As an adult, I’d assumed I’d never find my perfect match either in a home or with a man. But then there was Spencer.
Spencer was the perfect fit for me; however, I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive how he went behind my back to get answers. It was mortifying to think about him doing that. The worst part was that he hadn’t bothered to tell me he was even thinking about it. I couldn’t reconcile how he’d gone from being patient and understanding to making the executive decision of digging up all the dirt on my family. What kind of fucking leap is that?
It was disturbing, and I’d never felt so insulted in all my life. And now, after distracting myself all day with Travis and Natasha, I was going to end up where I started, feeling this knot in my stomach again.
Fuck this shit. Spencer was living rent-free in my head whenever I’d let him, but that bastard could go fuck himself along with the text message he sent me an hour ago that I deleted without reading. My sexy ass was worth more than a text after a week of going dark on me as if I were the one who massively fucked up.
I reached over and turned on my classical music playlist, something I did to elevate my mood whenever I felt myself spiraling. I would not allow these particular demons to get a hold of me and destroy anything good in my life.
I needed to hit the kill switch on the Spencer thoughts and get to meet up with the ladies for dinner tonight. There was a good chance he would be brought up, given I would be out with the wives of all his friends, but I was hoping they wouldn’t talk about him. I’d already vented my frustrations to them and grieved the loss of the idea that I’d found the only man I wanted to commit to fully. I’d closed that door and dead-bolted it, so I would be shocked if any of them brought Spencer up tonight.
I planned to talk about my two successful real estate closings tonight, and I would keep the conversation there.
I sipped the last of my wine and studied the bottle, debating whether I should pour myself another. Ah, fuck it, I deserve it.
“Damn fine meal, ladies, and damn fine wine,” I said as I poured my wine glass half full.
“Well, after today’s successful events for you,” Ashley, Jake’s wife, said with a smile as sweet as she was, “you deserve it. If only I could talk my clients at the art gallery into buying my canvases like you talk your clients into purchasing homes.”
“Honey,” I grinned and sipped my wine, “one will never be able to talk anyone into purchasing anything in the ways that I do.”
“That’s the truth. Who knows, though? Maybe someday you’ll face your Everest, and you’ll be stumped,” Avery added with her usual sass.
I arched an eyebrow at her. “I wish I could agree, but hell, I could sell a vibrator to a nun during church.” I sat back in my seat as the ladies laughed.
The wine was hard at work, relaxing me and pushing my mind into some carefree way of thinking that usually got me in trouble if I wasn’t too careful. Lately, I made a point not to drink at all because I knew it would bring up the topics I’d been desperately pushing out of my mind, and I would not let it come to that.
“So,” Bree interjected, “why don’t we all jump in the car and drive up the coast tonight?”
We looked at her calculatingly, each of us determining if being so carefree on a Tuesday night was a good idea.
“I have a showing early in the morning,” I said as soon as I felt that knot return to my stomach.
I had these strange moments when I felt a rush of sudden emptiness or deep sadness. I couldn’t decide which. All I knew was they were there, and they weren’t welcomed feelings. I could hardly stomach them, so I couldn’t process them, or I would go straight to panic.
I stood. Just the acknowledgment of these thoughts made me anxious. I couldn’t bear this, and I wouldn’t.
“You know what?” I said, trying to cover for myself, “I think the wine has gotten to me tonight. So, I’m going to go ahead and leave.”
“Not without me,” Avery said, standing.
“You okay?” Bree asked.
“I’m fine, honey,” I assured her. “I’ll be just fine.”
“No,” Bree sighed.
