ALEXANDER

When my father called me, he forgot to mention an important detail: that the blue-eyed bastard was here. And so here I was, my chest heaving, my eyes wide and staring at both of them. Their fingers were interlocked. Her head was resting on his arm, and his filthy hand was in her hair.

Sure, I said I was ready to let her go, and she could move on, but not in my face and most definitely not with him. I’m not sure I could take that.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, and I was failing.

“Is that what’s...