“Why?” He shrugged. “Don’t wanna get comfortable somewhere I don’t plan on staying. I purchased an apartment in Chelsea, though. I plan to stick around in London for at least eight years.” My heart deflated like a balloon, floating aimlessly before crashing in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t tell if it was because it meant the next goodbye would be morbidly final, or because I was jealous he was in a position to buy a whole-ass apartment when I couldn’t even afford to rent a bike in New York. Either way, the pang of sadness unsettled me.
