The next day, I messaged the landlord to let him know I was moving out.
I quickly started packing. I threw out what needed to be thrown out and packed up what needed to be filled. After I arranged to stay with a friend for a few days, I called a moving truck.
As I sat in the back of the moving van, I saw a luxury car drive by from the opposite direction. I didn’t catch the license plate, but the model looked like the one Mark used to drive. I turned my gaze away and said to the driver, “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
We hadn’t driven for more than a few minutes when my phone rang.
It was Mark.
Without thinking, I immediately declined the call.
Almost in an instant, a new message popped up on WhatsApp. "Tessa, why is the apartment empty? Where are you? Call me back!"
I paused for a moment, then typed "Goodbye" and hit send before quickly deleting Mark from my contacts list.
Perhaps, because he had achieved the outcome he wanted, Mr. Hanson was no longer interested in making things difficult for someone as insignificant as me. In fact, he even gave me a few decent job opportunities my way, like a small gesture of compensation.