Page 9 of Nate Hayes

SHE WAS MINE FIRST.

I turned the photo over slowly.

Axel stood beside me now, reading over my shoulder.

“We got a problem,” he said.

I didn’t answer.

I was already moving—inside, to the woman who was still humming while she made breakfast, completely unaware that her past had officially crossed the line.

4

Willa

The moment I walked out of the bedroom and saw the envelope in Nate’s hand, I knew.

My stomach dropped.

I didn’t need to see the handwriting. I didn’t need to look inside.

I knew it was from Derek.

It was the same pressure in my chest I used to feel when I came home and found him sitting in the dark, waiting. The same knot in my gut every time he got quiet—andtoocalm. It was the same voice that whispered,He’s not done with you. Not yet.

Axel didn’t say a word when I walked up. He just nodded once and stepped back.

Nate held the envelope tightly, as if he were afraid it might explode.

And then he handed it to me.

I already knew what it was before I even opened it.

The photo was folded once, creased down the middle like it had been in someone’s pocket for hours. Maybe days.

It was of me and Nate. At the market, two Saturdays ago.

My hand was on my hip. I was laughing. I looked… happy.

On the back, in thick black ink, it said:

SHE WAS MINE FIRST.

I couldn’t breathe.

I closed my eyes, but that didn’t stop the flood of memories—the locked doors, the guilt trips, the promises, theplease don’t leave methat always turned intoif you go, you’ll regret it.

He’d never hit me.

But that’s not the only way someone can leave a bruise.

“You okay?” Nate’s voice was low, careful. Like he was afraid that if he touched me too fast, I might shatter.

I opened my eyes. “No.”

He stepped closer.

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

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