“He has a type, you see. It was supposed to be for her.”
My blood ran cold. Her? Who was ‘her’? My heart was pounding against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. Was she talking about an ex-girlfriend? Someone he’d loved before me? Was I a replacement? A wave of nausea washed over me.
She paused, letting the words hang in the air, thick and heavy,continue reading …
