In the photo Alex Gilbert had sent me—the one of Mia and Alex together—she'd been wearing this exact piece.
One of a kind. The only one in the world.
So Mia had worn it first. This was her castoff.
This was what he meant by "better."
He used to promise everything he gave me would be unique. That he'd never let me feel even a hint of neglect.
The bathroom door banged open. Alex stormed out clutching the razor, face twisted.
"Why is there a man's stuff in your bathroom?"
My pulse spiked, but I kept my voice steady. "I bought it for you."
He didn't buy it. He was paranoid like that.
"Bullshit. It's been used."
His voice dropped, dangerous. "I'm warning you. You belong to me. Only me."
He hurled the razor at the floor. It shattered, gouging a hole in the hardwood.
"You can't even afford rent without me, and you think you can find someone else? Who'd want you? Who'd take care of you like I do?"
He snatched my phone and scrolled through every app with practiced ease.
My chat histories were clean. He let it go—for now.
A vein throbbed at his temple. His fingers dug into my chin hard enough to bruise.
"Without me, you're nothing. So you'd better keep me happy."