“Selfish bitch,” he greeted me with venom dripping from each word as he punched the button for the fifty-second floor with the side of his fist.
I cringed as the elevator walls began to close in on me. I knew he hated me. He had all but shouted it in my face the very last time we’d been in the same vicinity. His eyes and words had cut me like razor blades. Every syllable had traveled across the quad until all the students who had been lounging around had turned to stare at us with morbid fascination.
Justin was the love of my life.