Chapter 1
My boyfriend was broke.
My best friend's boyfriend handed her luxury cars and houses, as they cost him nothing.
While my boyfriend and I stretched one frozen pizza across two meals, she ate lobster until she couldn't stand the sight of it.
When a two-dollar tip from a customer made my whole day, she dumped ten million dollars into the Halcyon River because her boyfriend picked her up three minutes late.
Her posts pulled in millions of likes every time she uploaded.
I stayed glued to my phone, refreshing her feed to see how she'd been spoiled next.
This time, she uploaded a video of a ring she'd made by hand for her boyfriend.
Stunned, I turned to look at Brayden Carter.
The exact same ring sat on his finger.
*****
When I saw Emma Sinclair's video of that handmade ring, my mind went blank for a second.
My delivery scooter went over on its side before I understood what was happening.
The soup my customer had ordered spilled all over me.
By the time Brayden showed up with the ointment, I was on the phone crying, begging the customer to go easy on me about the refund.
"As long as you're not hurt bad," Brayden said.
He frowned and checked my knee.
When he saw the blood coming through, his whole face went tight with worry.
"This is all my fault. I haven't made enough to buy you a decent pair of knee pads."
Back then, I would've ruffled his hair and grinned and told him it was fine.
I would've said I could pick up a few more orders and buy myself knee pads and get him a new laptop so his code ran faster.
But not that night.
I looked at the rough plastic ring on his finger.
I lowered my head and opened Emma's video again.
The ring was handmade.
There was only one like it in the world.
It was a nice piece of work.
And it sat on Brayden's finger.
Was I seeing things?
My phone buzzed.
It was Emma.
Emma: [Hey, Brayden told me you took a spill. Are you okay? Send me your location, and I'll come get you.]
I glanced at Brayden.
He was working the ointment into my knee, careful about it.
He felt me watching, looked up, and met my eyes.
His eyes were as clear as they'd been when we were kids, with nothing hidden behind them.
I typed back: [No need. Aren't you out with your boyfriend today?]
Emma: [Please. A date is nothing next to you.]
Something in my chest warmed against my will.
I'd rather have been wrong about what I saw.
I'd rather the ring had been nothing but my own suspicion.
I couldn't accept that the girl who'd tutored me and stood up for me over and over would ever betray me.
A Bentley pulled up, and Emma came running toward me in a designer outfit.
"I've told you a hundred times to quit delivering food. I have money, and I can support you," Emma said.
She looked as worried as she had back in high school, when boys in our class knocked me down, and her face crumpled like it was happening to her.
I looked at her.
"That ring belongs to your boyfriend. Passing it to someone else doesn't seem right," I said.
"He gave it to me, so it's mine. Who I hand it to is none of his business."
Brayden's hand stopped on my knee, the cotton swab still against my skin.
Emma pulled the swab out of his hand and frowned.
"Do you even know how to do this? Don't hurt her."
Brayden bristled. "Of course I do. She's my wife. My fiancée."
Emma rolled her eyes at him. "Sure."
I spoke up, "Now that I think about it, Emma, I've never met your boyfriend."
Emma's hand went still around the swab.
"You two have been together three years. Why not bring him around so we can meet him?"
Emma didn't answer.