I'd treated Grace like a sister since our freshman year of college. She moved into my apartment and stayed for two years, always promising she'd pay rent but never actually doing it—not a single cent, not even for utilities. I covered everything, even stocked up on double the bathroom supplies. And how did she thank me?
While I was busting my butt at work, she was hooking up with Liam. They went through boxes of condoms I had stashed, and I only caught them because I came home early from work one day.
What did Liam do when I confronted them? He rushed to defend Grace, pointing at me with a smug grin, and said, "What Grace and I have is real love. You? You're just some dirty girl massaging strangers for cash."
Looking back, I could kick myself for being so stupid.
"Bella, I was just trying to do what's best for you and Liam," Grace whined, her voice laced with fake sweetness.
Back then, whenever she acted hurt, I'd always be the one to comfort her. Maybe losing my parents young made me desperate for friends, so I tried to be kind to everyone. But she never deserved it.