My Roommate’s Dating Theory Killed Me, So Reborn I Let Her Go Chapter 03

My Roommate’s Dating Theory Killed Me, So Reborn I Let Her Go Chapter 03

Mrs. Higgins let out a weary sigh as she stepped into the middle of the living room, clearly trying to play peacemaker.

“Vivian, everyone in the building chat thinks you overreacted. Clara’s still young and a little naïve. You’re older than she is. Can’t you just let it go?”

Mr. Potts tossed his keys onto the coffee table, his expression turning stern.

“Vivian, if you want to move out, I’m not stopping you. If the lease says you owe an early termination fee, then you pay it. But are you really going to keep insisting Clara is some kind of future murderer? You’ve been calling every stranger a criminal. I’ve lived in this building for ten years, and nothing like that has ever happened.”

I met his gaze without backing down.

“So because the odds are low, I’m supposed to gamble with my life?”

“If someone actually breaks in, you’ll all be sleeping peacefully in your own rooms. I’ll be the one lying on the floor.”

Clara suddenly shot to her feet, her eyes already red with tears.

“Who are you cursing? Vivian, why are you so cruel? I’ve told you a hundred times, I only leave the door cracked. Just a tiny bit! No one can get in through that! Why do you keep acting like something horrible is going to happen to me?”

She grabbed a throw pillow off the couch and hurled it at me. It missed, bounced off the wall, and landed on the floor.

Mrs. Higgins hurried over and caught Clara by the arm.

“That’s enough. Stop it.”

I bent down, picked up the pillow, and placed it neatly back on the couch. I didn’t even look at Clara.

“I just don’t want to put myself in danger. Is that really such a problem?”

“If you’re determined to believe your soulmate is going to walk through an unlocked front door, that’s your choice. Just don’t leave the apartment open so danger has to pass my bedroom to get to you.”

Mr. Potts stared at me for a long moment before pulling a cigarette from his pocket.

He stood there in silence for nearly a minute before finally making up his mind.

“Alright. Here’s what we’ll do.”

“Don’t rush out just yet. We’ll handle the lease by the book.”

“Give me one week. If I find a new tenant, we’ll process your move-out according to the contract, and I’ll refund your entire security deposit. If I can’t find someone by then, you’ll stay one more month while I keep looking. Fair enough?”

The moment Clara heard that, fresh tears spilled down her face.

“Mr. Potts, you’re not even on my side? You’re making me change too?”

He waved a dismissive hand.

“I’m not taking sides. I’m trying to restore some peace around here. And Clara… this habit of yours really does need to stop. If someone ever does get inside, it’ll be too late to regret it.”

Clara bit her lip without another word, tears trembling on her lashes.

Mrs. Higgins immediately chimed in.

“Vivian, Mr. Potts has already compromised this much. If you still refuse, you’re being unreasonable. Every roommate has disagreements. You can’t ruin someone’s reputation over one mistake.”

I looked at Mr. Potts.

He wasn’t negotiating.

He was informing me.

I understood perfectly.

Deep down, none of them actually believed Clara had done anything wrong.

They just thought the argument had become inconvenient.

I considered it for a moment.

Finding a new place and moving would take a few days anyway.

One week was manageable.

I set my suitcase down and nodded.

“Fine. Seven days.”

“But I have one condition.”

“I’m installing my own lock on my bedroom door, and every night I’m locking it from the inside.”

Then I added calmly,

“And if that front door is ever left open again, I won’t warn anyone. I’ll call 911 immediately. If anything happens during these seven days, I won’t be responsible.”

Mr. Potts frowned.

“Do you really have to be this cold? You’re roommates. Is calling the police really necessary?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “It is.”

Mrs. Higgins clicked her tongue and ushered Clara toward the kitchen.

“Oh, forget it. Let her mope around for a few days. She’ll get over it.”

That night, I installed a heavy-duty security chain on the inside of my bedroom door.

I tested it three separate times, making absolutely certain it couldn’t be opened from the outside.

Then I locked my laptop and cash inside my desk drawer and set 911 as the emergency shortcut on my phone’s home screen.

Only after everything was finished did I sit quietly on the edge of my bed.

My fingers drifted to my throat.

I could still remember exactly where the knife had sliced through my neck in my previous life.

A familiar chill spread through my chest.