“Stone, it’s not like that,” he tries to interject, attempting to get me back in his arms, but I keep my distance, refusing to be played for a fool again.
“Nice touch on the fiancé part, by the way. You really fucking sold it. Kudos for the creativity, quarterback. I didn’t think you had it in you,” I snap, my nose flaring in disgust.
“Stone, just let me get a word in, will you?” he rasps, his voice struggling for sound.
“You want to talk? Okay, then talk! Tell me, how could you have done this to me? No, not how. I already fucking know how you did it. It’s right here in my inbox, reminding me of what an idiot I was,” I bark, pointing at the email on my phone screen.
“Stone, where did you get that phone?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You gave me the damn thing! Don’t try to change the subject. Just tell me why? Why would you take my dreams away from me?” I cry, my trembling body wanting to cave and melt against him, craving to feel his warmth and consoling touch despite him being the one who ripped me to shreds.
“Why, Finn?” I ask him again after a long pause of silence.
I take a step back, my spine straightening as much as it can while looking up into his tear-filled eyes.
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you did. You did more than hurt me, Finn. You broke something in me that you’ll never be able to fix. I’ll never be able to trust you again.”
“Stone.” He chokes, a rebellious tear falling down his cheek.
“You wanted to know if I loved you, well, now you know. Because a betrayal like this can only hurt this much when it’s done by someone you gave your heart to. I loved you, Finn. I did. But now I can’t stand the sight of you.” I seethe, backing away from him, one step at a time.
His tears mean nothing to me.
His false words and promises even less.
“Don’t call me. Don’t come looking for me. Just forget me. Trust me, if I could, I’d sell my own soul to the damn devil himself to forget you. We’re over,” I spit out, throwing him one last cold look as if he were a total stranger to me.
And he is. The Finn I fell in love with was a mirage, a figment of my imagination.
I turn around, making my way through the rain. With razor-sharp scissors, I cut the ribbon of the deceitful love that had me tethered to such a beautiful lie. If there is a lesson in love that must be learned, let this one be mine—never trust my heart again. Its foolish desires just ruined my entire future.
Chapter 25
Finn
“I want you out! I mean it! I can’t even look at your face!” my father yells the minute we walk through the door.
“Hank,” my mother pleas anxiously, looking at my father and then back at me, not knowing who to console first.
“Don’t ‘Hank’ me, Charlene. This is your fault as much as his. You coddled him all his life, and this is how he repays us,” he roars, walking into the living room and heading straight to the bar, obviously thinking alcohol will calm his nerves.
It won’t. At this moment, there’s nothing that can be said or done to temper my father’s angry disposition. But I guess it’s to be expected since all the dreams he had for me were ripped from his clutches so mercilessly.
I keep my mouth shut, knowing nothing I say will make him believe me. The damning results on the lab’s conclusive report are all the proof my father and the dean will take into account. Professing my innocence is just a wasted effort, and frankly, I’m too tired and distraught to give a fuck. The dean and my father, however, are acting as if the four horsemen just stampeded through Richfield’s gates, storming their way onto campus to unleash hell on earth. To them, this is the apocalypse. To me, it’s just another fucked-up day, and not the worst one I had this week by a long shot.
This whole afternoon they locked themselves in the dean’s office to do damage control while I stewed in my seat in the same room, ordered to remain silent like an errant child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. No matter how innocent I am, pretty words will never restore their faith in me. The funny thing is, I’m too broken and weary to even try.
“What are you still doing here? I told you, I want you out of my house, boy! You are no longer a member of this family. The disgrace you’ve brought, this blemish you’ve made on our family name, can never be undone,” my father bellows, chugging his bourbon in one go and looking at me with daggers in his eyes.
At least my mother is not siding with him. But she’s not making any attempts to side with me, either. Switzerland, that’s what she’s like. Maybe that’s what she’s always been like, and I just never noticed. My mother is a neutral force in this family, who only implements her rule when she sees fit. My father kicking me out of my childhood home doesn’t merit her intervention, apparently.
Unwilling to hear another bitter word from my father, I turn around, knowing that the next time we see each other we will be strangers. But I guess we already were. If he knew me at all, he’d believe me the first time I told him the lab results are bullshit.
“Finn, don’t take another step,” my mother suddenly interjects. Unsure if she is going to be kind or hammer me to the cross like my father, I sway my body to face her as she continues, “Hank, I know what happened today was a shock. A shock that none of us saw coming, but I don’t want you to make rash decisions. This is our son. This is his home. No matter what he’s done, this will always be his home.”
My father sucks in his teeth, his scowl wrinkling his forehead, making him look older than his sixty years of age.
“This home is for people of integrity. Not cheaters.”
“I have never cheated a day in my life,” I growl, my sudden outrage making it clear that his condemning words hit their intended mark.
My father’s head falls back, unleashing a contemptuous cackle, making my anger increase tenfold. I’m his son. How can he believe I was capable of doing such a thing? Doesn’t he know me at all? Guess not.
“Oh, you’re not a cheater, huh? Then what do you call this?!” he shouts from the top of his lungs, throwing my failed dope tests on the ground.
Hmm.
What can I call a piece of paper that proves my steroid use? Do I call it my penance for being a manipulative bastard in trying to right a wrong? Or do I define it as my own karma kicking my ass for being an unfeeling asshole all these years?
Perhaps neither.
After all the lives I’ve ruined, I think I can only call this scathing, false document The Society’s way of reminding me exactly what I deserve.
And maybe they are right. By all accounts, I should be behind bars for all the criminal things I’ve done. My freedom should be ripped from me, and my reputation tarnished beyond repair. I sure as shit don’t feel like I deserve any better. Not when the woman I love hates my guts, thinking I jeopardized her chances for the future she always envisioned. Not when she spends her days hating me while I wallow in my misery, loving her.