Tabby helped me move in, and as much as I needed her help, I was ready for her to leave. Not because she did anything wrong. Just because…this place feels like a fresh start, like something that’s finally mine. And I can’t handle the constant nervous glances and the “You’re all good, then?” questions. It’s like she’s taken on a mothering role and is scared to watch me fly from the nest. There’s something embarrassing about having her all up in my business when everything is going so well. It also annoyed me that my hot-ass landlord popped his painfully handsome head over the fence and asked
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