For a year, Ben had wanted me to get my own place but I had resisted, as living by yourself is both expensive and lonely. Even after he offered to pay half my rent, I didn’t like the idea. What if he let me down, found someone else or just refused to pay? I would be screwed. Plus, the last time I had moved into my dream house, I had lived there for only two weeks before my life had fallen apart. I really didn’t think I could take that sort of rollercoaster again.
However, after one year of catching two buses and a train home from work, I finally gave in and decided to look for my own place closer to my job. I knew deep down I would miss Elly more than anything, but for my own sanity, and for Coco’s health (as she now seemed to be eating three cats’ worth of food and was rapidly putting on weight!), I decided to fly solo for a while. Now, when I say fly solo, I mean solo with the constant interruptions and criticism from Ben.
After five open house inspections, I finally found a one-bedroom apartment I totally adored which was close to my work and had a small garden for Coco. There was only one problem; it was $200 over my weekly budget. I only went to the inspection to see what I could get for that sort of money, hoping I wouldn’t like the place or would decide there was no way it was worth that much money. Unfortunately, I loved the place, and it was definitely worth being broke for. After viewing the property three times, in the hope that no one else would take it and they would reduce the rent, I decided to give up, as there had been so much interest I knew deep down I would never live there.
When my phone rang a week later, I immediately thought the poor lady was trying to sell me something. After being initially rude to her, she eventually explained she was from the estate agent dealing with the property, and after consideration of my application, the owner would like to accept. At that moment, I don’t think I spoke for at least a minute; I was just trying to get my head around what she was saying. She must have the wrong number, but how? I had never given her my number. Trying not to sound stupid, and not succeeding in the slightest, I finally responded with, ‘What application?’
When she responded with, ‘The offer your partner, Ben, put to us on Friday,’ it all began to make sense. Although he had gone behind my back and offered $100 more than what I could afford, I couldn’t help but smile.
The next Friday, Ben helped me move. Well, if I’m truthful, I went to work and he moved everything I owned, bar Coco, to my new home. He picked up keys, dropped off dry cleaning, collected furniture, plumbed in the washing machine and moved everything I owned, all while I was at work. When I finished work, I collected Coco and walked in to my gorgeous new home to start our new life. ‘A real woman can do it all by herself; but a real man won’t let her.’ — Unknown.