By the time I returned to the apartment, it was the middle of the night.
When I entered the door code, it repeatedly showed an error.
Frustrated, I called Valerie several times, but she didn’t answer.
Desperation led me to kick the door several times.
Finally, after a long wait, the door opened.
The moment she saw me, she launched into a tirade.
"I just got Ayden to sleep, and now you’ve woken him up with your racket!"
I ignored her scolding and asked coldly, "You changed the password, didn’t you?"
At my question, her tone faltered. "Ayden can’t remember complicated codes, so I changed it. It’s easier this way."
Yesterday, she had only mentioned it; today, she couldn’t wait to move Ayden in.
The original door code was the date Valerie and I first met.
"This apartment—I paid part of the down payment too," I said quietly.
Valerie had more than enough money to buy the entire place herself, but back then, I insisted we both contribute to make it feel like a shared home.
Upon hearing my words, her face darkened.
"So what? Are you planning to argue about money now?" she hissed.
A sense of frustration swept through me. Valerie always had a way of derailing the conversation.