Chapter Text
“So.. are you going to sell?”
Cosima sits, smoking slowly at Felix’s apartment. It’s tiny. Not nearly as nice as hers. Is that what she has to go back to? Has she been entirely spoiled by the Aylwin condo? It’s even near the botanical gardens. Why would she want to move?
“The condo?” Felix prompts her, as if to try to stir out a more emphatic response. “You’ve been single again for almost two months… and you know, it’s expensive.”
“Yes, paying my mortgage alone is expensive.” Cosima agrees. “Still don’t want to move.” She doesn’t want to give it up. The reno’d condo. The heated floors. She’s been spoiled by it, Cosima figures. And she doesn’t want to leave it.
“Then what?”
“I need a housemate.” Cosima realizes. That’s the only solution. Without Talia. And it’s becoming clearer that Talia is not coming back. At least not to be with her.
“I am not moving in with you.” Felix tells her quickly. “Sarah neither.”
“Yes. I mean like… post an advertisement. Offer the other bedroom up, shared living space… get some kind of grad student or young professional to help me pay expenses. The other bedroom is plenty big. I just need to get my office set up out of there, and offer it as a room for rent.”
“It would solve the money problem.” Felix agrees. “But then you’ll have a new problem. The roommate. Also ‘advertissement’ is also warning in French. So figure that out. Maybe it’s a context thing. We need a dictionary.”
Felix shoots her a look and Cosima nods. She’ll definitely require a roommate with reasonable English proficiency. But in Montréal that should be easy to find. She’ll list it in English and find someone to scribble a quick translation below. That should do the trick.
“And I won’t have to ask my parents to help cover the mortgage… Which is best.” Cosima sighs. “At least have a roommate for a year or two…. And then maybe I can carry the mortgage alone. I did lock in at a decent interest rate.”
“Yes and if you didn’t, you’d be screwed right now. We wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
“I mean… it’s not my fault Talia is like… crazy.” Cosima chokes out the words bitterly. She’s unable to conjure any warmth for her former girlfriend. And why should she?
“Uhh no. Batshit crazy. Clearly. Not your fault… She went up to… where again?” Felix asks.
Cosima does not want to retell the story. Especially not in detail. But she won’t have a choice.
“Saguenay.” Cosima bristles a little. Further north than she ever wishes to go. At least her ex will be freezing her ass off in the snow six months a year.
“And…fell in love with some woman instantly. And left you.” Felix shakes his head. “You were together four years and she just… fucked off for… fucking.”
“Almost four. Not quite.” Cosima leans in, elbows resting on the island. “Either way… I don’t know. I really thought this was like…it. We wanted the same things. We had great sex… I don’t understand why she went looking.”
“Boredom. Monogamy wasn’t her thing. Clearly.”
“It looks to be her thing with… Véronique.. Or whatever her name is.” Cosima has quickly learned she doesn’t want to be Facebook friends, or anything, with Talia after the breakup. She doesn’t even want a French speaking roommate. She wants nothing familiar. Nothing that will remind her of this shitty experience.
“No. No. No way.” Felix shakes his head. “They won’t last… she’ll come crawling back and you’ll have moved on. Talia just shit all over her life is what she did. The condo is just in your name, right?”
“Yeah. It’s in my name.” Cosima confirms. She’d been buying shortly after they got together, and Talia had thought it best they take it slow that way. Even though she’d moved in within eight months. It was in Cosima’s name. They’d wanted it that way. Safer. She figured she’d put Talia on the mortgage later.
“Then no worries. You were common-law. So… no division of the assets bullshit.” Felix waves hand. “Good thing you weren’t married. You get to keep your condo and she gets nothing. Because she's a reckless idiot who needed new novel pussy. That's it..”
“Yeah.” Cosima nods, trying to sound unaffected. She has to be. She’s not going to pine after Talia. She just… cannot quite believe that is how it ended.
Cosima sets herself to the practicalities. She makes her ad, and publishes it on three different rental sites. She leaves it in English only, figuring that will get the point across to whomever reads it. And she checks emails several times a day. She gets an extra bed frame from Cal and Sarah, and orders a mattress. She should provide that much, Cosima thinks. A bed. The rest, is up to whomever rents from her.
After work, she packs up Talia’s things. Clothes shoved into an oversized duffle bag, her books and himalayan salt lamp in boxes. A rubbermaid tote containing some sports equipment. Not that much, Cosima muses, once Talia’s things have been tucked away in a corner next to the balcony door. Two of Talia’s friends, a couple - Olivier and Chantale - offer to do it for her, but Cosima refuses the help. If some of Talia’s things get damaged, serves her right for her shit behaviour.
She goes through the first three possible roommates one by one. Cosima goes through applications, and rules most out within minutes . Too young. Too old. Single mom with a kid. And then the fourth name catches her eye. Delphine Cormier, MD. A clinical research coordinator, who shares her age, two years older than Cosima. And seems… well other than the French thing, to be a decent contender. Looking for a room to rent for a year.
They exchange a handful of emails, and Cosima invites Delphine to come tour the place on a Saturday morning. A deterrent for the not serious.
But between waking up tired, and scrambling to get ready to show the apartment, Cosima finds herself a bit disoriented.
She looks down from her balcony, and gets her first glimpse. Blonde hair. Beautiful face. Hazel eyes. Oh no. Oh wow. You. You’re Delphine. OK. Cosima brushes her ridiculous thoughts off, and she needs to get to business here. Show the place. Check her references. Purely professional.
“Cosima?” Delphine’s voice is accented, but not the Montréalais she’s used to. She looks up. “Can you let me in? I have texted you twice?”
“Sorry. Yeah. Sorry. Kind of always late. Kind of always sorry.” Cosima quickly gets down the stairs and shows Delphine up.
“So here it is.” Cosima waves her hands around. “It’s newly reno'd. I bought it three and a half years ago. And both bedrooms are really good size. Works well for roommates.” She tries not to get into anything personal. Delphine surely doesn’t need to know that. There’s a rainbow flag somewhere. It should be enough for Delphine to get that hint.
“I am glad. I like this area… and… well. Your condo looks far better than the others ones I have seen. And in unit laundry?”” Delphine shoots her a look. And Cosima thinks she has her pegged. Bad breakup. Moving out of her boyfriend’s apartment. Some story like that. And straight Delphine will be fine to share a place with.
“Yeah.” Cosima opens the small folding door to reveal the stackable washer dryer. “Full size. Works great.”
“Good.” Delphine nods. “And I am assuming you only speak English?”
“Uhh I speak a little French. But… very anglo. I’m American actually. We… I took Spanish in high school instead. California. Another life ago.” Cosima brushes it off. She shows her the generously sized second bedroom, the bathroom, and all the shared space. “So you’ll have your own bathroom, and bedroom. Everything else is shared. Balcony. Heated floors.”
“It’s lovely. Really.” Delphine seems enthused. “So… I will fill out the application. I have three references. One landlord and two others.”
“That’s fine.” Cosima nods. As long as Delphine isn’t some kind of criminal. Seems… academic. Nerdy. Probably going to be quiet. Should be fine.
“You’re not… quebecoise.” Cosima realizes, and she shouldn’t say anything. It’s unimportant.
“I mean. I am… and I am not. I was raised in France. One Quebecoise parent. One French one.” Delphine brushes it off, giving a small shrug as she gestures. And she’s cute. Cosima immediately tries to wipe that thought from her mind. That won’t do.
“Ah. Cool.” Cosima tries more stealthily. “And you’re OK with a one year lease?”
“Yes. That is fine.” Delphine glances around. “I just need a place for a year or two… until my study is over. Then… who knows where I will be working.” Delphine laughs pleasantly. “I am quiet. I work a lot. I won’t get in your way. I work late. And… of course, I would warn you if I have…guests.”
“That is just fine.” Cosima smiles. “I work a lot too… At McGill.” Guests is fine, the soundproofing was supposed to be good… and the doors lock.
“Ah… OK.” Delphine nods. “So your last roommate moved out?”
“Yeah… She moved out of Montréal.” Cosima answers quickly. There’s no need to get into all that with a stranger.
“It’s a shame.”
“Yeah. Totally.” Cosima decides against honesty. She wants to have some normal conversation where Delphine doesn’t feel sorry for her. And it doesn’t matter.
When she’s checking Delphine’s stellar references, it matters even less.
She calls her the next day. “Hey Delphine. I went ahead and sent you the lease. So… fill it out. And get it back to me and let me know when you want to move in.”
“Great. I will send one month’s rent as deposit. Is e-transfer ok?” Delphine asks, and Cosima hesitates. What if this is a disaster waiting to happen.
“Yeah. Just fine. And you remember, we don’t have parking?” Cosima cannot remember if she told her that. It hadn’t been a dealbreaker for her, she didn’t have a car.
“That’s fine. I do not own a car.”
“Me neither.”
“Well great. Just let me know by email when you want to move in. And I will ensure that I am out to make it as easy as possible.”
“Perfect. Thank you, Cosima.”
“You’re welcome.” Cosima hangs up her cell and takes a breath. One problem solved. Another to go. She calls the familiar number, one of the few she had memorized. Just in case.
“Cosima?” Talia’s familiar voice answers and Cosima feels her throat tighten. With more rage than grief.
“Yeah. We don’t need to talk. I am sure you and
Véro
are busy.” Cosima mimics the way French Canadians would say it. And it comes out nasty. And maybe there’s no way around that, even with Talia’s so-called attempts to be civil.
Talia’s voice is pleading. “Cosima…”
“No, no… I just need to know when you can come pick up your stuff.” She can almost see her, - blonde hair, covered in freckles, pleading blue eyes. Talia. She’d thought she was better than this. Nicer than this. So much for that.
“Third weekend in August.” Talia informs her. “For Pride. I told you. We’ll be in Montréal a week. We got a hotel. I’ll pick up the stuff whenever works.”
“Can you come get it any sooner? It’s in the way.”
“Cosima… It’s a long drive. And we… have stuff.” Talia stops talking to her, and she hears something muffled in French in the background.
“Yeah fine. Just email me the date and time. We don’t need to talk.”
“OK, Cosima. If that’s what you want.” Talia hangs up, and given the last three conversations they’d had in the last six weeks she cannot blame her. It is a toxic mess. But not her fault. Not this time. She had been all in. It was Talia who turned out to be a total flake.
Cosima glances around. It’ll be worth it to keep this place. She hopes.