I turned my face away.
"You’re going to kill yourself trying to please people who don’t even fucking see you," he ground out.
"Leave me alone," I whispered.
"No."
He crossed the room in two strides and knelt beside the bed.
"I can't," he said, voice breaking. "I won't."
For a breathless moment, the air between us crackled.
He reached out—then stopped, clenching his fists in his lap.
"You’re not alone, Brit. Even if you think you are."
My heart hammered painfully against my ribs.
I wanted to believe him.
God, I wanted to.
But all I heard was my mother's voice in my head, cold and sharp:
You’ll never be enough unless you try harder.
I curled into myself and said nothing.
And Ace, after a long, shuddering moment, left.
Later that night, I stood alone in the mirror, studying the bones jutting out of my hips, my collarbones sharp as blades.
I traced the outline of my ribs with trembling fingers.
If I was perfect enough... maybe they'd finally love me.
Maybe they'd finally stay.
Or maybe I'd disappear completely trying.
Chapter 4
Brittany
The Past (Age 18)
The day I'd been waiting for had finally arrived. My real eighteenth birthday.
Funny, really, how the world had already celebrated it months ago—at least, that's what my mother made everyone believe. I was seventeen when she forced me into adulthood, waving fake documents and pretty lies so I could pose half-naked for a magazine cover. No real birthday bash. No candles. No celebration.
But today? Today was real. My day. My freedom—at least for a night.
I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the short, glittery dress Jasper had bought for me. It sparkled under the soft glow of the fairy lights strung around the backyard. My heart was hammering with excitement and nerves.
"You look beautiful, Brit," Jasper said from the doorway, smiling that soft, brotherly smile that always made my chest ache.
"You think so?" I twirled, my skirt flaring out around my thighs.
