“I’ve lost everything, Helena.”
She studied my face.
“Whitney?”
“She left.”
“And your business?”
“It’s gone.”
I looked down at my worn shoes.
“I don’t have enough money for another apartment. I was hoping maybe I could stay here for a little while.”
Helena stared at me.
“Here?”
“Just until I get back on my feet.”
“Ross, this is my home now.”
“I know, but we lived here together for eleven years.”
“And we’ve been divorced for more than a year.”
Her voice wasn’t cruel.
That somehow made it worse.
I glanced toward the hallway.
“There’s still a spare bedroom, isn’t there?”
She shook her head.
“That’s not the point.”
“Helena, I’m desperate.”
Her expression softened slightly.
“I’m sorry you’re struggling. I truly am.”
For one brief second, hope rose in my chest.
Then she continued.
“But you can’t move back in.”
