Separation

After the morning I told her the truth about my past, the lingering tension between us completely evaporated. We became incredibly open with each other, effortlessly trading embarrassing secrets and throwing out sarcastic banter just to make the other person laugh. But the most important change was her posture; Claudia finally stood tall around me, completely comfortable and entirely free of the guilt she used to feel about my money.

Still, running a rapidly scaling B2B agency while maintaining a full university course load was a grueling balancing act. By February, our waitlist of local contracts was piling up and needed to be executed fast. Furthermore, the Russian Brotherhood turned out to be terrifyingly good at networking; they kept feeding us high-value leads, making our turnaround times even tighter.

To keep us from drowning, Claudia officially expanded the payroll. She recruited four more of her smartest classmates to handle the tedious administrative data entry, allowing her to focus entirely on macro-level strategy while I managed the sales funnel.

To protect our time, we fully modernized our operations. We started using Skype and GoToMeeting to conduct virtual pitches with clients and daily check-ins with her data team. We ruthlessly utilized every piece of tech available to eliminate hard labor. Claudia brilliantly planted all of her automated spreadsheet frameworks onto Google Drive, allowing her to real-time monitor her team's keystrokes from the loft. On my end, I completely ditched paper, utilizing DocuSign and EchoSign to get our contracts legally bound over email in a matter of seconds.

Thanks to her systems, the chaotic blur of our dual lives finally stabilized.

By the end of February, the numbers were undeniable. We had secured 16 active clients, generating a total net profit of $10,500. The momentum didn't stop there. By the end of March, we hit 19 active clients—10 of which we had successfully converted into recurring monthly retainers—and our net profit surged to $12,400. We were so efficient that local business owners started referring to us as "The Paperless Consultants," amazed by Claudia’s ability to clean up their messy physical ledgers entirely through the cloud.

Watching this massive financial success wash over her was the greatest reward of my life. The crushing weight of poverty had finally lifted off her shoulders, and the physical impact was breathtaking. She was finally getting proper sleep. She was eating full meals. The pale, exhausted, shabby-looking barista was gone, replaced by a vibrant, confident, and… undeniably beautiful woman.

But even as her bank account grew and the dark circles faded from her eyes, she never lost her edge. She was still the exact same brilliant, witty, fiercely stubborn Shaggy I had known.

April 2013.

The looming threat of our sophomore final exams was rapidly approaching. Over the past few weeks, Claudia had been spending significantly more time locked in her dorm room, since our university project deadlines were becoming much tighter. The Russian Brotherhood had instantly transformed into stressed-out nerds, too. Next semester, they would officially be seniors, so their usual partying was replaced by a hyper-focus on their final thesis papers and group projects.

Bzzt! Bzzt!

My phone vibrated against my leg. "Hey, what’s up, Clau?" I answered, muting the strings of my guitar.

"Hi! Are you still at the loft?"

"Yep, I'm just sitting out on the balcony playing my guitar. Where are you?"

"I’m still at Mona’s apartment. We just finished our group presentation for macroeconomics."

"Do you need a lift back to campus? Mona’s apartment is over in the West Loop, right?"

"Yeah. Actually, I really need to discuss something important with you, but I think it’s better if we talk in person."

"Alright, give me twenty minutes tops. I’ll head over there right now."

"Thank you! Drive safe!"

"Yep, see you in a bit."

Click.

Hmm. What’s the matter? I scratched my chin, resting the guitar on the stand. Well, I’ll find out soon enough anyway.

I walked inside, swapped my sweatpants for some decent street clothes, and grabbed my car keys to drive toward the West Loop.

After a fifteen-minute drive through the mild spring traffic, I pulled up to Mona's apartment complex. A few minutes later, Claudia pushed through the front doors and jogged to the passenger side of my car.

"So, where do you wish to go, my lady?" I teased, putting on a terrible, exaggerated posh British accent as she climbed in.

She giggled, pulling her seatbelt across her chest. "Can we go to any café nearby, good sire?"

"Oh, of course! I know a very fine coffee establishment around here for a lady of your refined tastes."

"Which one is it?"

"A hipster café!"

She gasped, swatting my arm playfully. "You are such a dork!"

We laughed as I pulled back into the traffic and drove to a nearby, quiet indie café. We grabbed the comfiest, most secluded booth in the back corner so we could enjoy our coffee while I listened to whatever was stressing her out.

"So, what is it you want to discuss?" I asked, taking a sip of my dark roast.

She leaned forward, placing her chin in her hands and looking incredibly nervous. "Umm... do you think it’s a good idea if I rented my own apartment near campus?"

My eyes went wide. "Of course! That’s a fantastic idea! You desperately need to upgrade from that cramped, noisy dorm life anyway!"

"Really? You don't think it’s too much of a financial risk right now?"

"What are you talking about? Of course not! Look at our agency books, Clau. You actually have a highly stable, fantastic income now. It’s a great idea to move into a much safer, better place!" I smiled encouragingly.

She smiled back, visibly relieved that I wasn't judging the expense. "Well, Mona actually gave me some recommendations." She unlocked her phone and showed me a few pictures of different buildings. "There are some options here. They are all studio apartments, and the price ranges between $1,200 to $1,500 per month. And they are super close to campus, only a ten-minute walk. What do you think?"

I glanced at the tiny, cramped studio photos. They looked depressing. "Umm... let me call someone first. I might be able to get you a much better option for a reasonable price. What do you think?"

She squinted suspiciously at me. "Since when did you become a licensed realtor, huh?"

I chuckled, standing up from the booth. "Well, you already know I have highly connected friends, right? Give me a minute, I’ll call them outside."

She just nodded, taking a sip of her latte and trusting my judgment.

I walked outside the café, stepping into the brisk April wind, and immediately called my dad.

"Hello, boy! Do you miss your old man?!" his booming voice echoed through the speaker.

I chuckled. "Of course I miss you guys. How’s life? Are you still in the UK, Dad?"

"Nein! Me and your mom are in Germany right now!" he laughed. "Hey, you want to hear a funny story? Listen, today when me and your mom—"

I cut him off right away. "Whoa!! Hold on! You are talking to your son, remember?! Please keep it PG!"

"Hey! What’s wrong with story time? You are a full adult now, Derry!"

"Please, old man. You told me those exact kinds of stories even when I was ten!"

"Really? Bah! It’s okay anyway, we’re family!"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose to stave off the headache. "Please, I really don’t want to hear it. Anyway, I gotta ask you a business question, Pops."

"Hmm. What is it?" his tone instantly shifted from goofy dad into serious CEO mode.

"Do your real estate holdings still have any vacant apartment units near UIC?"

"Why? Are you finally bored of living in that loft?"

"No, it’s for a close friend of mine. She’s looking to rent a safe apartment near campus."

"She?" he giggled like a gossiping schoolgirl. "Wait a minute, let me call Wilson."

After a few minutes of agonizing elevator music on hold, my dad clicked back onto the line.

"We still have a few premium vacant places near UIC. Wilson is going to email you the locations and the interior photos right now."

"Alright, thanks, Dad. And have him list the monthly rental prices in the email, please."

"Well, you can literally name the price yourself, Derry. Those buildings are legally under your name."

"What??!!" I choked, almost dropping my phone onto the concrete. "Hold the fuck up. Why did you put an entire apartment building under my name?!"

He sighed heavily. "It has been in your portfolio since before you even moved to Chicago, Derry. I specifically remember telling you about this."

"No, old man. You definitely mistook Julian for me."

"…. Well… you are probably right, I completely forgot. Whatever! Just call Wilson if you want to know the specs of the apartments, alright?!"

I took a deep breath. "Fine. Thanks, old man."

"Oh, and hey! Do you want to join us for the summer break in Abu Dhabi next month?"

"I dunno, probably a hard pass. I'm busy running an agency here."

"Well, if you change your mind, call us, okay?"

"Thanks, Dad."

"Love you, son! Bye!!"

"Love you, Dad! Say hi to Mom."

Click. Fuck, it will become weird if it was under my name. I rubbed my temples. Well, fuck it. I’ll just let Wilson act as the faceless property manager and take care of the rental paperwork later after she chooses a unit.

I walked back into the café and slid back into the booth across from her.

"You took quite a long time on that call, huh?" she teased.

"Yeah, you know how it is. You have to ‘exchange pleasantries’ first before you ask for business favors," I deflected smoothly.

She giggled. "So, what kind of apartment is it?"

I picked up my phone. Wilson had already emailed me a PDF with the locations and high-resolution pictures of the premium units. "Here, take a look."

We scrolled together through the portfolio list. It didn't take more than a few minutes before she stopped, completely mesmerized, and kept scrolling back to a specific, beautiful one-bedroom apartment in Little Italy.

"You really like this one, don't you?" I asked, watching her eyes light up.

She nodded eagerly. "Yeah. This one looks incredibly spacious, the appliances are totally new, and the location isn't far from campus at all."

"Alright. Let me text my guy and ask him about this specific unit."

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" she panicked, grabbing my wrist before my thumb could hit the screen. "I need to know the price first! My absolute maximum budget is $1,600 a month. I cannot afford to go over that."

I chuckled, looking down at the email. "Sure, don’t worry about it, Clau. I’ll make sure he gives us a much better deal than that."

**

Next day, I immediately made a private call to Wilson. I explicitly asked him to keep absolute silence regarding the ownership of the building. He agreed to keep his answers incredibly vague and bureaucratic in case Claudia tried to pry into why the rent was so cheap.

That weekend, Claudia and I drove over to the Little Italy complex to view the unit in person.

"Whoa... it is so spacious!" Claudia gasped the second I unlocked the door. She wandered into the center of the pristine, sunlit loft, looking at the gleaming countertops and massive windows. "Daeron, are you absolutely sure this is within my $1,600 budget?"

I nodded smoothly, leaning against the doorframe. "Yep. You can ask the property manager directly if you want. I can give you his direct line."

"But… how?" She spun around, her sharp, analytical eyes scanning the premium appliances before locking onto me. "How did you manage to get a deal like this? I can tell just by looking at the square footage that this should easily be a $2,500-a-month apartment."

"Well, let’s just say you have your accounting magic, and I have my networking magic," I deflected.

She smiled brilliantly and threw her arms around my neck in a fierce hug. "Thank you, Daeron!"

"Anytime, Clau. I’m just incredibly glad you like it." I let the warm, grounding moment linger for a few seconds before gently pulling back. "So, should we call him to bring up the lease paperwork so you can move your stuff in right away?"

"Whoa, hold your horses! I haven’t even packed up my dorm room yet!"

"Then let’s just take care of the signatures today. You can move in whenever you're ready."

Her eyes swept across the beautiful, empty apartment, shining with disbelief that this was actually hers. "Alright. Let's do it."

"Good! Let me call him." I pulled my phone from my trench coat pocket.

Not long afterward, Wilson arrived. We sat around the kitchen island to review the paperwork. After Claudia relentlessly grilled him with a few sharp, legally binding questions, she finally signed the dotted line. I drove her back to the dorm so she could start packing her life into boxes.

Early the next morning, I arrived to help Claudia move into the new apartment. I was genuinely shocked by how little she actually owned. She literally moved into her new home with only two small suitcases and her single, oversized backpack. Luckily, the apartment was already fully furnished, so I immediately took her to the store to buy some basic household essentials and completely stock her new fridge with groceries.

The most important task for her, however, was making the space her own. We spent hours decorating. We moved furniture, hung up art prints she had saved, and arranged her small collection of books. By the late afternoon, the sterile luxury unit had completely transformed. It felt warm. It felt uniquely like her.

Damn, she really has an incredible taste for design. I chuckled to myself, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

After we finished the last touches, we collapsed onto the floor of the living room, leaning back against the sofa and surrounded by two greasy boxes of delivery pizza.

"Are you satisfied with the final result?" I asked her, taking a bite of pepperoni and watching her eyes continuously scan the cozy room.

She turned toward me, a brilliant, thoroughly exhausted smile lighting up her face. "Yeah! This is amazing, Daeron!"

"Indeed. You really know how to turn a building into a home."

"Yeah, well, it reminds me of fixing your horrific mess back during Christmas Eve," she laughed, her eyes sparkling with the shared memory.

I gasped in mock offense, clutching my chest. "Hey! At least I tried, you know! Besides, I had literally never decorated my place for Christmas before you came along!"

"I know, I know…." Her laughter slowly faded into a quiet, heavy silence. "Umm, Daeron."

I looked toward her. Her dark brown eyes were suddenly looking deeply, intensely into mine. All the playful, sarcastic banter completely vanished from the room, replaced by a thick, suffocating tension.

"You know that I like you, right?"

Thump. My heart violently skipped a beat, freezing the blood in my veins. I just stared at her with wide eyes, completely paralyzed.

She leaned forward, bravely closing the distance between us. "Do you feel the same way?"

My voice was completely trapped behind a wall in my throat. My heart started pumping a million miles an hour, a sudden, scorching heat flooding my cheeks. I was terrified.

Her warm, soft hand reached out. She gently cupped my jaw, her thumb brushing against my cheekbone. "I need to know, Daeron."

I closed my eyes, leaning slightly into her warm touch. I desperately searched my heart for the answer she wanted. But no matter how deep I reached into my mind, or how many times I tried to untangle my own feelings, only one lingering, suffocating name came out of the dark.

Jessica.

I slowly opened my eyes. Claudia's dark gaze was piercing straight through my soul, reading the tragic hesitation in my eyes. The hopeful light in her face slowly fractured. She averted her gaze, her hand dropping heavily from my jaw. She already knew the answer before my lips even moved.

After a heavy, suffocating moment of silence, the voice that was stuck in my throat finally managed to break free.

"I’m sorry."