The Misfit

It was gorgeous. And probably expensive, too. I could already imagine how much I’d be able to get for it if I stormed back into a fancy store that sold something similar and demanded my money back, told them it was a piece of shit and I wasn’t going to accept store credit. But honestly, right now, I had to pretend it was the most thoughtful gift in the world.

I turned to him with a smile on my face, simpering a little; I knew it was what he wanted.

“Thank you,” I breathed, as though I could hardly believe anyone had been sweet enough to bring me a gift like this. “It’s beautiful, it really is.”

“I thought you would look stunning in it,” he murmured, and he reached out to cup his hand on my face. Though I smiled, I didn’t feel anything close to the chemistry I’d had with Dean just a few minutes ago. I could play it, perform it for him if that’s what he wanted, but none of it was true. None of it was real. None of it even came close, if I was being honest.

“Put it on, and come downstairs,” he told me, leaving little room for argument. “I want to show you something.”

I smiled.

“That sounds amazing,” I replied. But in the back of my mind, there was only one thing I could focus on – and it was how much I wanted to be back in the room with Dean next door already.