“What do you think?” Gabe asks.

“It’s nice.”

I’m being honest. This is one of the best apartments I’ve seen in the city. It’s small, but stylish and well located.

And I grew up rich. I went to private school and everything. I know what I’m talking about, when it comes to expensive properties.

In fact, when It happened, I was starting to plan the purchase of my first investment property. But then in the aftermath of Sam’s suicide, Mom and Dad got divorced and I began seeing Dad less and less often, so I never even got a chance to ask him about funding any hot deals for me.

This is totally the kind of property I’d buy, had I still have my dad’s financial backing.

I was planning to get a place for myself to move into when I turn eighteen. I thought I could rent it out if I happened to, say, take a semester abroad as an exchange student. I wanted to spend some time in France learning the language.

Man, it was a completely different time when Dad was still around...

So I didn’t quite get the hands-on training I thought I was going to receive from my dad, but I think Gabe has good taste in real estate.

This apartment is downtown so it’s always going to be in demand. It doesn’t require much work beyond cosmetic and completely optional customizations.

It also commands sweeping views of the ocean from the spacious balcony. I can just imagine us getting down and dirty on that balcony, with the sun on our backs…

“Why are we here?” I ask before I get carried away by my own fantasy.

I notice the wooden floor planks have been arranged in a herringbone pattern, which gives the whole apartment an air of understated elegance. As we walk through the wide hallways and spacious rooms, the sound of our footsteps bounces off the floor and the walls.

Given that Gabe spends most of his time in Africa, he’s probably about to purchase this property as an investment and rent it out. With his family’s wealth, he can certainly afford it.

“Do you like this apartment?” Gabe asks as he puts his arm around my waist.

“I already told you. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, it’s nice, objectively. But do you like it?”

“Yes, I really, really like it,” I say. “You know, most people would understand that if I say something’s nice, that means I like it.”

Gabe grins as we stop in yet another doorway, looking at the beautiful master bedroom.

Plush cream carpet covers the floor. The far wall has big windows through which I can see the city on one side and the ocean on the other side. A pair of white French doors open onto a smaller balcony with an intimate set of outdoor table and chairs for two.

Without saying a word, I walk across the carpet, my every step cushioned by the thick pile of the carpet. Warm sunlight and an afternoon breeze greets me when I open the French doors. I have to see the views from the edge of the balcony.

“I can definitely tell that you like it now,” Gabe says when he catches up to me. He gives me a tender look and a gentle smile—he’s only making the pain in my chest more excruciating.

“I guess.” I tear my gaze away from him. I try to focus on the views instead.

“Do you like it enough to move in here with me?” Gabe asks as he joins me by the railing.

I snap around to stare at him. My mouth hangs open. It grows drier with every breath.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he says. “I’m sure you can tell how I feel about you. I spend all the free time I have with you. When I’m not working, we’re always together.” Gabe raises his hand up to caress my cheek. “Surely you can tell I’m crazy about you.”

My thoughts are so loud it’s a struggle to try and listen to Gabe, but there’s no way for me to miss his next words.

“Jacqueline… I love you.”

I can’t breathe. It’s like I’ve been lassoed and the rope is squeezing my insides, constricting my lungs.

“Angel, are you okay?” A frown appears on Gabe’s forehead. He looks concerned.

I didn’t think this was going to happen.

He’s fallen for me, but this is not the happy occasion I thought it would be.

This is heartbreaking.

Because we can’t be together. He’ll hate me if he finds out who I really am, and he’s bound to learn the truth eventually. I can’t fake this for the rest of my life—which is how long I want to stay by Gabe’s side.

But breaking his heart has never been in the plans.

My chest hurts—physically. It’s like there’s an invisible knife slicing deep cuts into my heart.

Tears burn my eyeballs and stream down my face. I can’t stop them.

Now Gabe seems really concerned.

“Angel, did I say something wrong?” he asks.

I shake my head.

No, Gabe. It’s not your fault. It has never been your fault.

“I’m sorry.” My voice sounds shaky. “I’m sorry, Gabe. It was never supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to…”

My sentence remains unfinished, leaving unspoken questions floating between us. Gabe watches me intently, waiting for me to say something, to explain my tears. His green eyes have grown dark.

I can’t believe I’m about to break Gabe’s heart.

But it has to be done.

Before I have a chance to change my mind, I repeat, “I’m so sorry. This was supposed to be a fling.” The words fall flat even on my ears; they sound fake. Almost robotic. My voice breaks as more tears escape my eyes and wet my cheeks. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”

I wipe my tears with the back of my hand, then rush back into the bedroom and make my way out of the apartment. I can hear Gabe calling my name, but I don’t trust myself to look back even once.

In the bright, spacious living room, I sprint past the real estate agent who let us into the apartment. He seems surprised and disappointed to see me. He knows he probably won’t earn his commission from us.

Sorry, agent guy.

Sorry, Gabe.

I’ve ruined everything.