It’s a top and jeans, similar to mine in style, but they’re brand new, still with the tags on. “Yours were no good,” he says shortly. “Wear these.” No good? I unfold the clothes, completely confused. I don’t know if I should be offended, pissed off, or grateful. They’re well-made, thick and durable, but still soft. They’re much nicer than anything I’ve ever owned. I run my hands over the fabric and look up at him again. “Thank you,” I say. He stiffens and doesn’t say anything.
