Chapter 1

The text from Andrew lit up my phone screen, and my heart jumped.

"Downtown condo tonight. Wear that coyote ugly thing I like. Denim shorts, boots. You know the one."

This had to be it. After years of being his "friend," his "buddy," his secret late-night call, this was the night he would finally see me. Really see me.

My dad' s medical bills were a constant weight on my shoulders, a stack of white envelopes that grew taller each month. He was in a long-term care facility, a ghost of the man he once was. Years ago, he' d been working in his garage, a young Andrew hanging around like he always did. An engine block slipped from its hoist, and my dad shoved Andrew out of the way, taking the full impact himself.

A severe brain injury. A vegetative state.

Andrew, consumed by guilt, had sworn he' d become a doctor to save him. That promise was the thin, fragile thread connecting us, the reason I held on, believing in the good man I knew he could be.

I looked at my reflection. The tied-up plaid shirt, the worn denim shorts, the scuffed cowboy boots. It wasn't me, not really, but it was the version of me Andrew wanted. For him, I' d be anything.

I drove to his downtown condo, my hands shaking on the steering wheel. This was it. I knocked on the door, a hopeful smile already on my lips.

The door swung open.

Andrew stood there, a smirk on his handsome face. But he wasn't alone. Behind him, a crowd of his medical school friends mingled, drinks in hand. And next to him, clinging to his arm, was Gabrielle Ross. Her phone was already out, recording.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Andrew announced to the room. Laughter erupted.

My smile froze, then crumbled. My blood ran cold.

"Madisyn, I think you' ve got the wrong idea," he said, his voice dripping with false pity. "I told you we were just friends. You can' t just show up at my place dressed like… this. It' s a little desperate, don't you think?"

Gabrielle laughed, a high, cruel sound. "When the crazy side-chick won' t take a hint," she said, narrating for her phone.

My mind went blank. The room spun. I couldn't breathe.

Andrew' s face twisted into a look of disgust. He reached down, picked up a small, brightly colored box from the floor, and tossed it at my feet. It landed with a soft thud. A cheap, generic sex toy.

"Here," he said, his voice loud for everyone to hear. "Take care of yourself. Because I' m with Gabrielle now. We' re done."

The box sat on the welcome mat, a monument to my humiliation. The laughter of the crowd was a physical force, pushing me back, crushing the air from my lungs. I turned and fled, their mocking voices chasing me down the hall.