The Roommate by Kiersten Modglin (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

fifteen minutes after I’d agreed to meet Elias for a beer. He’d been able to get together almost instantly. Not that I’d expected any different. Elias was never the most popular person. From what I could remember of him, he always seemed to be rather reclusive. I remembered him as the pimple-faced kid who’d tutored kids for extra cash on the weekends and skipped out on prom to attend some sort of academic triathlon. It was no wonder he’d done so well for himself.

It felt a bit like attending a bad high school reunion to purposefully meet with him again, especially when I was in such a tough spot. Attending my most recent real high school reunion—was Elias even there? I couldn’t remember—had been nothing short of amazing. I’d just been promoted to Junior Booking Agent, we were happily married and had both managed to keep up our figures, and we’d begun considering selling our old house in order to relocate to the neighborhood I was already bragging about. It was the high school reunion of my dreams. Everything about our lives was perfect, and I was still the person they all remembered. I’d lived up to my potential tenfold.

Of course, that was seven years ago, and look how much had changed.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

As I made my way toward the bar, I spotted Elias near the end, sipping on a beer and sorting through peanuts. I smiled as I neared him, and he spotted me, extending my hand.

“Hey. Good to see you again, man.”

His handshake was firm, confident. So unlike how I remembered him. “It’s good to see you, too. To be honest, I really didn’t expect to hear from you.”

I sat down on the barstool next to him. What I really wanted was a gin and tonic, but I went for a beer instead, noticing the three-dollar price difference. If I was somehow going to afford a place of my own, I’d need to pinch pennies harder than I ever had before.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I mean, we’d never really talked before. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure you even remembered me. And I assumed you were pretty busy, being an agent and all. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, well,” I took a sip of the lukewarm beer, trying not to show my disgust as I looked at the bartender then back at Elias, “I had a meeting run late tonight, so I’m just going to hang around downtown for a bit before I head back to the—” I stopped short. “—back home. And I thought it would be nice to catch up.”

He nodded. “Well, I’m glad you reached out. You’re right, it is nice. I can’t tell you the last time I got together with a friend just to chill out and relax.” He drained the last of his beer and set it on the counter, sliding it toward the bartender as he approached Elias with another. Elias looked back at me sheepishly, and I noticed the tips of his ears turning red. “Sorry, that probably makes me sound lame. I’m sure you have all sorts of friends you get to spend time with. This is probably just another Saturday night for you.”

I was surprised by the vulnerability I heard in his voice, and I suspected, as his eyes shifted nervously waiting for me to respond, he hadn’t meant to be so honest.

“Truth is, work keeps me so busy, I don’t have much time for friends. This is the first Saturday I’ve taken off in a long time, and I called you because I thought if I didn’t keep myself busy, I’d end up working anyway.”

“Wow. Must be nice to have something you want to do even when you don’t have to. You must really love it,” he said, a question in his expression.

I thought about the words, weighing my response before I gave it. But I knew the truth. “No.” I took another drink of my beer, no longer bothered by the inadequate level of chill. He scoffed, waiting for me to elaborate. “No, I really don’t. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it has its perks. I’ve gotten to meet some amazing people, travel quite a bit, and the pay is…nice.”

“I’m waiting for the not loving it part,” he said with a dry laugh as he popped a handful of peanuts in his mouth.

“It’s great. I shouldn’t complain. It’s just…sometimes it’s a lot. Everyone is trying to be something they’re not, trying to impress someone, climb the ladder, you know? Sometimes it just gets exhausting.”

“I hear ya,” he said simply, not asking for further explanation. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re one of the first people I’ve talked to face-to-face in about two months. A ladder to climb, people to compete with, it all sounds pretty nice some days.”

“What?” I couldn’t help raising a brow. “You mean working for yourself isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”

“Yeah, well, don’t get me wrong. Going to work in my pajamas is pretty damn cool. But it doesn’t mean I don’t miss the interaction some.” He laughed. “So, where are we on the pathetic scale? Two thirty-somethings at a bar alone on a Saturday night complaining about life.”

“If either of us utters the words ‘back in my day,’ I think we’ve officially topped the charts.” I tipped my beer toward him.

“Speaking of back in the day…I can’t believe you and Addy are still a thing. We used to be so close, but you probably know that. We lost touch years ago… How is she? Do you two have any kids?”

A tinge of worry rang through me at the question, but when I looked his way, there was nothing sinister in his eyes. He was being casual, making conversation. But why was he so obsessed with my wife? And why did he care if we had kids? I forced the paranoid thoughts away. “Yeah, we have a daughter, Rory. Aurora, but Rory. She’s fourteen.”

“Wow, how wild