emails requesting you to reconsider. However, you were adamant that your engagement was your main focus at this stage, and you wanted to put your law degree on-hold,” the woman continues with her rant, sounding more annoyed with each word she has to explain to me.
I fall to the floor in my room, my legs no longer able to support my trembling knees.
“No, you don’t understand. This is a mistake! I never rescinded my candidacy for the internship. Why would I? This is all I’ve ever wanted,” I stutter, clasping my hand over my mouth, unwilling to let the representative hear me crying.
She takes a beat, letting me draw some composure, which only intensifies my humiliation for falling apart with a stranger as my witness.
“Again, Miss Bennett, you were the one who contacted us, advising us that you were no longer interested. We even called you, and your fiancé told us the same thing over the phone.”
“My fiancé?!”
“Yes. Just give me a minute. I think I still have the email here. Ah. Here it is. His name is Finn Walker, am I correct?”
“Finn? You talked to Finn?”
She huffs out, her patience dwindling down at rapid speed.
“Yes. We did. A week ago, if I recall correctly. We tried to reach you, of course, but he was the one who talked with us. Aside from your email, we haven’t been able to reach you until today. I have to say, I find it quite disappointing we are only having this conversation now.”
This can’t be happening. She’s wrong. She must be. There must be some sort of mistake.
But how do they know Finn’s name?
“Can I ask you to forward a copy of my email?”
“Just a minute,” she replies, aggravated. “There, I’ve forwarded it back to you. Is there anything else you require from us, Miss Bennett?” she retorts bitterly, her tone leaving no room for miscommunication—Watkins & Ellis are through with me.
“No. Thank you. That’s all, I guess.”
“Apparently it is. Congratulations again on your nuptials. Some women aren’t made to lead successful careers anyway,” she adds, the little bitchy reprimand serving as her parting words before hanging up on me, only adding salt to my already open wound.
I rush to my laptop to check my email box and, lo and behold, in black and white, there it is—the fucking email that crushed all my dreams and aspirations. In its contents, I explain in detail to Watkins & Ellis that I’ve become engaged to a football star, no longer wishing to pursue law in favor of supporting his athletic endeavors.
Aside from my laptop, everything ends up on the floor, thrown by my maddening rage.
I wish I had never laid eyes on Finn Walker—the destroyer of dreams and my goddamn future.
I’ll kill him!
I’ll fucking kill him!
Since I don’t want Finn to hear my anger over the phone, or give him time to get his story straight, I run out of my room with the sole intent of finding him to get some answers face to face. If I haul ass, I can make it before he gets to his next class.
Ten minutes later, I stand outside Finn’s Philosophy classroom, drenched to the bone, and getting angrier by the second. Even the typically sunny Asheville weather suddenly turned to match my wretched mood. However, I was too furious to go back to my room for an umbrella. I shift from one foot to another, my wet clothes unable to dampen my boiling rage.
As I watch the students beginning to leave the classroom, my eyes first land on a bored Easton. But following behind him, looking chipper and right as rain, is the bane of my existence—the man who somehow made his way into my heart, only to trample on it. Finn is talking Easton’s ear off until he finally sees me standing there, waiting for him in a dripping pool of water.
“Stone? What’s wrong? Why are you all wet, brat?” he bombards worriedly, looking concerned.
However, I’m the one who needs answers, so I promptly ask, “Why did you do it?”
“What?” he asks in confusion, trying to wrap his jacket over my shoulders.
I grab the damn thing, throwing it to the wet floor, and yell, “WHY, FINN?! Just fucking tell me why?!”
My little outburst grabs the attention of everyone around us, leaving a thunderous expression on his face. He grabs my elbow and pulls me away to prevent me from continuing to make a scene. He is shit out of luck if he thinks I give a