Year Five: The Perfect Goodbye Plan novel Chapter 23

Silvia kept her head down, not quite understanding why he was asking the obvious. “I’m not living here anymore.”

Shipley frowned and pressed his hand down on her suitcase, trying to stop her.

“Are you upset with your brother? I know it’s a little unfair to send you to the branch office.” He smoothed her hair with practiced affection. “But our sweet Silvia is always so understanding, right? Help your brother out, won’t you?”

Silvia forced a thin, cold smile. “Got it.”

“If you want to move out, that’s fine. After all, Vianne’s still here.” Shipley pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “There’s a little apartment at my place—you can stay there for a while.”

Silvia paused for a moment.

He was always like this, always pretending everything was fine, always faking tenderness.

He did everything for someone else, yet made it sound as if he was doing her a favor.

It was almost comical, the way he pitied those so-called star-crossed lovers.

She took the apartment key, gripping it tightly in her palm.

The key felt like a dagger, biting deep into her skin.

“Okay,” she said quietly, her voice stripped of any real emotion.

“Sweet Silvia—” She had just started to walk away when his hand caught her wrist. “You’re not really mad, are you?”

He wore that familiar mask of gentleness.

Silvia glanced at him, her eyes cool, a trace of mockery flickering beneath the surface.

“Be good, all right?” he cajoled. “Work keeps me busy enough as it is. I don’t have the energy to deal with all this drama.”

He tried to pull her into his arms, but Silvia stepped out of reach.

“I understand,” she replied.

She pulled her wrist free and went back to her room to pack.

Although she’d lived in this house for three years, she didn’t have much to take—most of the things belonged to Shipley. All she could pack were some clothes and a few personal items.

Once she finished, her gaze drifted to the apartment key Shipley had given her that morning, still lying on the table.

After a moment of thought, she opened a real estate app and called a rental agent.

“Hello, is this Mr. Knox? I’m looking for an apartment.”

A gentle male voice answered, “Yes, ma’am. May I have your name?”

“Ashford,” Silvia said softly.

“All right, Miss Ashford. Could you tell me what you’re looking for?”

“I need a short-term rental, about three weeks. Ideally, a one-bedroom place that’s clean and move-in ready.” She hesitated, then added, “I need to move in this evening. Do you have anything available?”

“I do have one place—the previous tenant just moved out, and the lease is up in a month. It’s actually a two-bedroom, but the environment is great. The owner lives just across the hall but is rarely around, so he’s renting this one out.”

A two-bedroom was a bit much for just herself, but she didn’t have the luxury of being picky.

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