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"Your dad's? Aunt Jackie's?” I shrug. “We'll figure it out."
She lets out a groan causing both my son and me to laugh.
"Like usual,” Mason says, “Madi is only concerned aboutherself, but you haven't said what your plans are. You're probably already ten steps ahead of us, if I know you."
I laugh at how right he is about me. Just not this time. "Honestly, I haven't made any yet. I wasn't expecting to get an offer on the house so soon. I have some ideas, but you guys know how I am with change."
"If you sell, do you have to split the money with Dad?" The bitterness in Mason's tone still makes me hurt for him. I'm not sure my son will ever forgive his father.
"The stipulation in the divorce was that the three of us remained here until your eighteenth birthday, and then the house becomes mine."
"How much were you offered?" Mason asks.
"One-point-five.”
His eyes widen, so I raise my hand. “But we must be out in thirty days.”
Madi scoffs, but Mason’s eyes hold mine, that brilliant brain of his assessing everything I’ve just told him.
“I know it's a lot to ask to be out so quickly, especially with your birthdays and graduation right around the corner, which is why I think I'm going to turn the offer down."
"No way, Mom.” Mason shakes his head. “Do you know what you can do with that kind of money? Anything, Mom. You can doanythingyou damn well, please. We’ll be fine, won’t we, Madi?” He looks pointedly at his sister.
Madi rolls her eyes. "Does this mean we can throw one last rager of a birthday party here?"
Laughing at her one-track mind, I nod. "You know what? It sure does. Let's make this the best birthday you two have ever had." I pull my children in for a group hug.
"Ugh, you're squishing my face." Madison giggles and pulls away. "Can we get back to our friends now?"
"Of course. Get out of here, you two."
I grab my phone and send my sister the text she’s been waiting for.
Me:Sell the house.
I presssendand power off, just like I plan to do for the rest of the night.
Chapter Three
Rome
I jolt straight up from a dead sleep, drenched in sweat, and my body trembles uncontrollably. Pounding from a small but noisy fist comes from the apartment door.
"Mr. Abrams!" Another three loud knocks on the front door. "Mr. Abrams! Open up! I know you're in there."
I look through the peephole before opening the door. "Ms. Giordano, it's two in the morning."
"You're telling me. I've been up for the last hour listening to whatever the fuck you have going on over here. I know you were on television and now you're some sort of rockstar, but it doesn't give you the right to keep the rest of the apartment building up with your all-night partying and screaming."
Scrubbing my hand over my dark hair, I sigh and motion toward the living room. “Well, as you can see, no party. Are you sure it wasn’t a television from another apartment?” I raise my eyebrows and she narrows her eyes.
To be fair, now that I’m awake and the nightmare has ended, the apartment building is quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Save for Ms. Giordano’s huffing and puffing.
“Now, if you don't mind, I need to get up early tomorrow." I politely but firmly close the door in my neighbor's face.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I pop the top and down the bottle in one long swig.
