Chapter 3

I was so furious I actually laughed.

"You're holding my things and won't give them back, and you're asking me what I did wrong?"

She shook her head like she'd given up on me. "See? You're still splitting hairs over what's yours and what's mine."

"We live together. Living together means I trust you a hundred percent. I've handed my whole life over to you."

"And you? You're my boyfriend, and the second you had some spare cash, you didn't buy me a new phone. You just bought something for yourself."

"Do you know how much I look forward to it every time you say a package came, hoping it's a gift for me? Do you know how much it hurts, being let down over and over, having to talk myself out of it every single time?"

"It's not mine," I said. "I bought it for someone else."

But she didn't believe a word of it. She just launched right in.

"Don't give me excuses."

"Look at me. I don't do baking, I don't go to concerts, I don't keep in touch with a single ex. There's only you in my heart."

"Last week a male coworker said he wanted to drop something off at my place, and I turned him down flat. I told him my boyfriend was home and it wouldn't be appropriate for him to come."

"I never even wanted to bring any of this up. I figured a girl should just give quietly and not make a fuss. But the more I put up with, the more shameless you get."

Listening to her accusations, I felt like the whole world had been turned upside down.

I had never once stopped her from spending time with male coworkers. She'd decided that on her own and pinned the blame on me.

And this full set of Apple products wasn't something I'd bought for myself at all.

Even if it had been, so what?

I looked at her. "So you're not giving it back?"

She raised her eyebrows, pleased with herself, and leaned in close. "That's right. Not giving it back."

I nodded.

Fine. Forget it, then.

Mr. Lawrence had disliked Paige for a long time anyway. The only reason he hadn't cut her loose was that she was my girlfriend.

In that case, there was no reason to keep sparing her feelings.

Seeing me go quiet, she assumed I'd caved. She waved a hand grandly. "All right, go buy the groceries. I want jumbo prawns today."

As she spoke, she transferred me fifty dollars on her phone.

"There. Don't say I never pay for anything. Use this for the groceries, and buy yourself a pack of cigarettes with what's left."

I let out a short laugh. "Right. And with what's left over I could put down a mortgage deposit, couldn't I?"

She didn't catch the sarcasm at all. She just picked up the tablet off the table, tore it open, and started playing with it.

Of course, she didn't notice the engraving on the back, the one Mr. Lawrence had put there for his daughter.

I didn't remind her, either.

As it happened, the past few days were right when next month's rent came due.

But my father hadn't pushed for it, so naturally Paige was in no hurry.

That was how she always handled rent. As long as my father didn't chase her, she'd never pay on her own.

"That landlord's a real idiot," Paige said without even looking up. "Last month I stalled him ten days. This month I'm going for fifteen. As long as he doesn't ask, I don't pay."

She looked at me, smug. "Take notes. Ten days a month, and over a year that's a whole month's rent saved. It's called using the rules to your advantage."

Watching her gloat like that, I found the whole thing bitterly absurd.

Back when we were dating, we were both broke students, and I always thought she was just frugal.

I never imagined she was this selfish, this calculating.

Then the weekend came, and her parents and brother descended on us, loaded down with bags.