ASHLEY
“So we still have four months before we resume our positions?”
I speak before I can think better of it, my eyes still fixed on the memorandum laid out in front of me like a f*****g contract I never signed. I blink once, slow, then again—like maybe the words will rearrange into something less insane if I just keep looking long enough. They don’t.
It’s been a good week—stupidly, unfairly good—and I should’ve known that meant something ugly was waiting.
Now I’m back here. Called into this office. This f*****g office.
“I just need to clarify,” I say, voice flat now. “If I break up with Beckett, he goes back to the hockey team and I get my scholarship back. That’s what this is saying.”
Wow.
I never knew the school would be this pathetic! I push the document forward an inch. My f
