It was identical to the one on my wrist.
The memory slammed into me—our third anniversary. Miles sliding the bracelet onto my wrist himself, his voice low and certain: "This is a Gilbert family heirloom. It only goes to the woman I'm going to marry."
Stacy Fox's sharp eyes caught the glint of metal on my arm. Her brow arched.
"Your bracelet looks exactly like mine."
Before I could respond, she let out a small laugh.
"You must have been scammed. There's only one of these—it's been passed down from my boyfriend's grandmother. Anything else out there is just a knockoff."
My throat closed. But I forced the words out anyway, my voice tight.
"What if... yours is the fake?"
The second I said it, I wished I could take it back.
He was living with her. Why would he give her a fake?
I was only fooling myself.
Stacy laughed, light and unbothered.
"That's impossible. His mother gave it to me personally. Why would it be fake?"
His mother.
The words hit like a hammer to the chest, crushing the last fragile thread of hope I'd been clinging to.
Shame and humiliation twisted together, burning behind my eyes. My legs trembled. I wasn't sure how much longer I could stay standing.