Regrets Of What Was Lost Chapter 04
That afternoon, after the agent finished taking photos, he asked what price I wanted to list at.
We’d bought the house three years ago for 1.1 million. Then we’d sunk another hundred-something thousand into renovations.
There was still about six hundred thousand left on the mortgage.
“What are the comps for this layout?” I asked.
“Mr. Wells, looking at Zillow, the highest comp is listed just under nine hundred thousand. The lowest is already down to seven-fifty.”
I frowned.
“It’s dropped that much?”
“Yes. But I’ve seen your house. The renovation and upkeep are much better than the others. There’s still a good chance you could get something in the high eights.”
The high eights?
Honestly, at that price, there was no point in selling.
Between the purchase and the renovations, we’d spent over 1.2 million. Selling now for eight-hundred-something thousand meant taking a four-hundred-thousand-dollar loss right off the bat.
If I married Savannah, I’d have to buy another house.
And for eight hundred grand, I wouldn’t find another place like this in the Chicago suburbs.
I stared at my phone in silence for a few seconds.
“Let me think about it. I’ll get back to you.”
After I hung up, I called Zinnia.
“Zinnia, the market is terrible right now. Selling in the eights is too much of a loss. How about this: I’ll borrow the money to buy you out of your share. We don’t sell the house for now. Okay?”
The line was quiet for a moment.
“I’ll say it again. I refuse to have any future risk hanging over me and Chloe. The house has to be sold.”
Then she hung up.
“Fuck.”
I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.
She always seemed so agreeable, but once she made up her mind about something, there was no moving her.