He Called Off Our Forever

Tonight, my boyfriend of seven years, Benjamin Kane, was supposed to propose. Our future was a perfect picture, planned down to the last detail.

But a single phone call shattered it all. A mysterious voice convinced him I was a gold digger who would ruin him, and that another woman, Jenna Christian, was his true soulmate.

He called off our engagement on the spot.

That was only the beginning of my nightmare. I was stalked by a man obsessed with Jenna, a confrontation that ended with me falling from a rooftop and shattering my arm. Then, I was kidnapped by a shady agency, trapped by a contract Jenna had signed in my name. I was living the horrific fate that was meant for her.

Benjamin, the man who promised me forever, abandoned me to suffer while defending the very woman who orchestrated my torment.

Lying in a hospital bed, I received an acceptance letter for a design scholarship in Paris. It was my only escape. I took it, leaving behind the man who broke me and the life he destroyed.

Chapter 1

The air in the grand university ballroom was thick with anticipation. Not just for the inevitable speeches, the clinking of champagne flutes, or the final goodbyes. For me, Amanda Stevens, it was for one moment: Benjamin Kane, my boyfriend of seven years, getting down on one knee. Everyone knew it was coming. Whispers followed us like a second shadow. Benjamin, the golden boy, real estate heir, and me, his talented fashion design student girlfriend. Tonight was our night. Our future.

I watched him from across the room, his dark hair catching the light, his profile sharp and confident as he spoke with a dean. My heart hammered, a frantic drum against my ribs. Seven years. A lifetime for us. We had planned everything, every detail of our lives, right down to the type of dog we' d get. I smoothed the fabric of the dress I designed, a soft blush silk that shimmered with every breath. It was my ode to our love, to the future I believed in.

Then, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, a flicker of annoyance on his face, then excused himself, stepping into the quieter alcove near the main entrance. I tried not to stare, but my eyes were glued to him. He answered, his voice low, almost a whisper. I could barely make out the words, but the tension in his shoulders was a language I understood. Something was wrong.

"No, that' s impossible," Benjamin muttered, his back to me. His hand clenched around the phone, knuckles white. "How... how did you know that?" There was a pause, a long, agonizing silence. My breath hitched. He was listening, really listening, to whatever was being said on the other end.

"Amanda? A gold digger?" His voice was louder now, edged with something I couldn' t quite place-disbelief, maybe, but also a chilling hint of consideration. "She' d bankrupt me?" The words sliced through the hum of the party, finding their way to me. My blood ran cold. Gold digger? Me? I felt a wave of nausea.

He listened again, his head bowed. "Jenna Christian? My true soulmate?" My vision blurred. Jenna Christian. A scholarship student. Her name was like a shard of glass in my ear. Benjamin' s family sponsored her. She was a fellow design student, always hovering, always a little too close.

"The accident... you predicted it?" Benjamin' s voice was barely audible, but I heard it. The minor car accident he' d had last week, a fender bender that had rattled him more than he let on. He' d dismissed it as bad luck. But now... the caller had predicted it? A shiver ran down my spine. The conversation continued, hushed and urgent. I couldn' t hear the exact sentences, but Benjamin' s posture stiffened further. He kept glancing my way, a strange mix of suspicion and confusion in his eyes.

My heart felt like it was breaking apart, piece by agonizing piece. Gold digger? Bankrupt him? Jenna Christian? My mind reeled. What was this? A cruel joke? A misunderstanding? I wanted to rush over, demand answers, but my feet were rooted to the spot, heavy as lead.

He ended the call, slowly, as if in a trance. He turned, his eyes sweeping the room, then landed on me. The warmth was gone. Replaced by a cold, calculating gaze I' d never seen directed at me. A stranger' s gaze. He started walking towards me, and I braced myself, my stomach churning.

"Amanda," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "I... I can' t do this."

My world tilted. "Do what, Ben?" I whispered, my throat tight. I knew. I already knew.

"The proposal. Tonight. It' s off." His words were concrete, heavy, like stones dropped into still water.

My knees buckled. I gripped the back of a nearby chair to steady myself. The blush silk dress suddenly felt like a shroud. I stared at him, searching his eyes for any trace of the man I loved, the man who had promised me forever. There was nothing. Just a wall.

I recalled Jenna. She was always there, a quiet presence. I' d seen her often in the design studio, her eyes, though usually downcast, seemed to follow Benjamin. Suddenly, every lingering glance, every shared laugh Benjamin had with her, played back in my mind like a horrifying montage. He' d often mentioned her, how hardworking she was, how grateful she was for his family's scholarship. I' d dismissed it as kindness. Now, a sick feeling twisted in my gut.

He was my Benjamin. My steady, loving Benjamin. He wouldn' t believe such malicious lies. Would he? My mind screamed, but my lips remained sealed. I remembered a conversation we had just last week, sitting on a park bench. He had confessed his deepest insecurity, a fear that people were only after his family' s money. I had laughed it off, assuring him that my love was real, that his wealth meant nothing to me. He had smiled, squeezing my hand, seeming reassured. Now, that same insecurity was being weaponized against me.

Benjamin saw the shock on my face. He reached out to touch my arm, but I flinched away, as if burned. His hand dropped. "Amanda, I–"

Before he could finish, a soft voice cut in. "Benjamin? Is everything okay? I saw you step out." Jenna Christian stood beside us, her eyes wide and innocent, a small, worried frown on her face. She looked directly at Benjamin, ignoring me completely.

Benjamin' s expression softened, a subtle shift that felt like a punch to my gut. "Jenna. Everything' s fine. Just... a quick call." He offered her a small, reassuring smile. It was a smile he used to reserve for me.

My throat was closing. I couldn' t breathe. I felt trapped, suffocated by the heavy perfume of the other guests, the clinking of glasses. My eyes darted between them. The way Benjamin looked at her, the way she looked at him. The caller' s words echoed: Jenna Christian, your true soulmate.

He saw me looking at her, then back at him. A flicker of guilt, or perhaps just exasperation, crossed his face. "Amanda, I need some space. We can talk later."

"Space?" My voice was barely a rasp. "After seven years? Tonight?"

He didn' t answer. He turned slightly, his attention already drifting back to Jenna, who was now subtly tugging at his sleeve, her eyes still wide with feigned concern.

My gaze landed on Jenna' s clutch bag. A small, intricately embroidered design of a phoenix rising from flames. It was strikingly similar to a motif I' d been developing for my final collection, a symbol of my own resilience. I had shown Benjamin some sketches just last month, excited about its potential. A cold wave washed over me. No. It couldn' t be.

"Is that your design, Jenna?" I asked, my voice dangerously even.

Jenna looked down at her bag, then back up at me, a tiny, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips before it vanished. "Oh, this? Just something I whipped up. I' ve always loved phoenixes, you know?" She tilted her head, her gaze challenging but shrouded in feigned innocence.

Benjamin stepped in, his voice sharper than I' d ever heard it directed at me. "Amanda, what' s wrong with you? It' s just a bag." He glanced at Jenna apologetically. "Jenna' s worked so hard. She deserves to express herself."

"Worked hard? Or copied?" I hissed, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

Benjamin' s jaw tightened. "That' s enough. Are you going to accuse every design student of copying you now? Just because Jenna is talented doesn' t mean she' s stealing from you." He put a comforting hand on Jenna' s arm. "Don' t worry about her, Jenna. Her pressure is getting to her. We' re going to be okay. Right?" He looked at Jenna, who nodded meekly, her eyes still downcast.

The public denial, the immediate defense of Jenna, the dismissal of my feelings. It was a triple blow. My heart, already bruised, felt like it was finally shattering. He didn' t just call off the proposal. He called off us. And he did it in front of her.

"There' s nothing to talk about, Benjamin," I said, my voice hollow. "I think I understand everything I need to know." I turned on my heel, ignoring his stunned expression, ignoring Jenna' s triumphant glance. I walked out of the ballroom, away from the glittering lights, away from the shattered pieces of my seven-year dream.

My phone buzzed in my hand. It was an email. The prestigious fashion design scholarship to the École de la Chambre Syndicale de la Couture Parisienne. I had applied months ago, a backup, a wild hope. I' d almost forgotten about it. Congratulations, Amanda Stevens. Your talent has earned you a place.

I paused at the exit, the cold night air hitting my face. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Benjamin had wanted me to drop my career after graduation, to focus on his family, on our future. He said he' d always support my dreams, but tonight, he' d shown me what his support truly meant.

I took a deep breath, the chill cutting into my lungs. My fingers flew across the screen. Accept scholarship. I will be there. There was no turning back now.

Amanda POV:

The sting of Benjamin' s betrayal lingered like a phantom limb, a constant ache beneath the surface. It had been weeks since the gala, weeks since I' d last truly spoken to him. He' d tried, a few half-hearted texts, a voicemail or two, but his words felt hollow, devoid of the sincerity I once cherished. I was a ghost haunting my own life, packing my belongings, preparing for Paris, while the university felt like a battlefield where I was constantly dodging memories.

One afternoon, I was sketching alone in the deserted design studio, losing myself in the lines and shadows, when a shadow fell across my page.

"Amanda? Finally caught you alone."

I looked up to see Derek, a notorious flirt from the art history department. He' d been trying to get my attention for months, despite knowing I was with Benjamin. His smile was predatory, his eyes too intense.

"Derek," I said, my voice flat. "What do you want?"

"Just wanted to see if the rumors were true," he said, leaning against the doorway, blocking my exit. "Benjamin Kane finally showed his true colors, huh? Told you he wasn' t worth it." He took a step closer, his gaze sweeping over me, making my skin crawl. "But you know, one man' s trash is another man' s treasure."

I stood up, gathering my sketches. "I' m not interested."

He chuckled, a low, unpleasant sound. "Oh, come on, Amanda. Don' t tell me you' re just going to crawl away and lick your wounds. Benjamin' s a fool. You' re beautiful, talented. You deserve better than to be hidden away." He reached out, his hand brushing my arm.

I recoiled, stepping back sharply. "Don' t touch me."

His smile faltered, a flash of anger in his eyes. "What, still playing the faithful fiancée? He dumped you, Amanda. Everyone knows it. You' re free now. And I' ve always wanted a piece of that prize."

My heart pounded. This wasn' t just flirting anymore. This was invasive.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a bang. Benjamin stood there, his face thunderous. "What the hell is going on here?" he growled, his eyes fixed on Derek.

Derek jumped, startled. His predatory smile quickly vanished, replaced by a nervous smirk. "Kane. Just... admiring Amanda' s work."

"Get out," Benjamin snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "Before I call campus security."

Derek, seeing the genuine fury in Benjamin' s eyes, didn' t argue. He shot me one last, unsettling glance before slinking out of the studio.

Benjamin turned to me, his anger shifting, settling into a familiar, suffocating possessiveness. "What were you doing with him, Amanda? Flirting with other men already?"

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Flirting? He was harassing me, Benjamin. And what are you doing here? Last I checked, you needed 'space' from me."

He ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration etched on his face. "I was worried about you! You haven' t been answering my calls. I heard what that creep was saying."

"Oh, so you heard that? But not the part where he called me a gold digger? Or how Jenna is your soulmate?" The words spilled out, raw and bitter.

He flinched. "Amanda, that' s different. That was... a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Right. Just like Jenna' s 'original' phoenix design, which mysteriously materialized weeks after I showed you mine."

His eyes narrowed. "Don' t start with Jenna. She' s innocent in all of this. She' s vulnerable. My family sponsors her, Amanda. It' s my responsibility to protect her."

"And what about your responsibility to me? Your fiancée?" The word felt like a lie on my tongue.

He looked away, his jaw tight. "I... I made a mistake that night. I was confused. But that doesn' t mean I don' t care about you. I do. We have seven years, Amanda. Seven years."

It was the same old song. He cared, but he was confused. He cared, but he was defending Jenna. He cared, but he had cancelled our future because of a cryptic phone call.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. A new message. From Benjamin.

I' m sorry, Amanda. About everything. I know I messed up. Jenna actually needs help with her rent this month, the scholarship money isn' t enough. I' m just trying to make sure she' s okay. It' s hard for her, you know? But it doesn' t mean I don' t love you. I miss you. Please, can we talk? Come to my place tonight. I promise I' ll make it up to you.

I read the message, my eyes scanning the words. Jenna needs help with her rent... scholarship money isn' t enough... hard for her. It was always about Jenna now. His promises, his attempts at reconciliation, always intertwined with his need to "protect" her. And the mention of his place, an offer to "make it up" to me, felt manipulative, a way to pull me back into his orbit.

I looked at Benjamin, standing before me, his face a mixture of remorse and exasperation. He still didn' t get it. He still thought he could have both: me, and his "responsibility" to Jenna. He still couldn' t see the rot that had set in.

"Benjamin," I said, my voice calm, almost detached. "Don' t worry about Jenna' s rent. I' m sure you' ll take care of it."

He frowned, confused. "Of course I will. But what about us?" He took a step towards me, his hand reaching out.

I shook my head, avoiding his touch. "There is no 'us,' Benjamin. Not anymore." I deleted his text message without another thought. The screen flashed, then went blank.

The silence that followed was deafening. It was over. Truly, finally over.

Amanda POV:

A shrill scream ripped through my sleep, dragging me violently back to consciousness. My roommate, Chloe, was shaking me. Her face was pale, eyes wide with terror.

"Amanda! Wake up! It' s Derek! He' s... he' s on the roof of the South Tower! He' s threatening to jump!" Her voice was a frantic whisper.

South Tower. The tallest building on campus, where the architecture department held its studio classes. My stomach dropped. Derek. The obsessive stalker who had cornered me in the design studio weeks ago.

"What? Why?" I scrambled out of bed, my mind racing.

"He' s saying... he' s saying he' ll do it if you don' t go up there!" Chloe wrung her hands. "The police are here, campus security. They' ve been trying to talk him down, but he just keeps screaming your name! He says you' re the only one who understands him!"

My blood ran cold. This was insane. I had barely spoken to Derek, let alone given him any reason to believe I "understood" him. But his words, the ones he' d screamed at me about Benjamin, about me being "free," now echoed in my ears with a chilling new meaning.

Before I could fully process it, my phone vibrated. It was Professor Davies, my program head.

"Amanda, you need to get here now," her voice was strained, urgent. "Derek' s demanding to speak with you. He' s unstable. The police think your presence might de-escalate the situation. We' ve tried everything else."

My mind screamed no. This wasn' t my fault. I didn' t ask for this. But the thought of someone dying, and my name being the last one on their lips, was a heavy burden. "I' m coming," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Chloe drove me, her hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. The campus was swarming with flashing lights – police cars, ambulances. A crowd had gathered, their faces upturned, morbidly fascinated. My heart pounded with a mixture of fear and dread. This wasn' t happening.

We arrived at the base of the South Tower. Professor Davies rushed towards me, her face a mask of worry. "Amanda, thank God you' re here. He' s getting more agitated."

"Professor, I don' t understand this," I said, my voice trembling. "I barely know him. He... he was harassing me."

She sighed, touching my arm. "I know, dear. But he seems to have fixated on you. He' s convinced you' re the only one who can help him. Please. Just talk to him." Her eyes pleaded with mine. The weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders.

A police officer, a stern-faced woman, approached. "Ms. Stevens. We need you to go up. Slowly. Don' t make any sudden movements. Just listen to what he has to say." She handed me a tiny earpiece. "We' ll be listening. We' ll guide you."

The elevator ride up felt endless. Each floor clicked by, a countdown to something terrifying. When the doors opened, the wind howled, whipping my hair around my face. The rooftop was stark, concrete and metal. And there, at the very edge, stood Derek.

He was a silhouette against the stormy sky, his arms outstretched, his body swaying precariously. His clothes were disheveled, his hair wild. He looked utterly desperate.

"Amanda! You came!" he shrieked, his voice raw, echoing across the rooftop. "I knew you would!"

My heart hammered. "Derek," I said, trying to keep my voice calm, even though my insides were quivering. "Please, come away from the edge."

He turned, his eyes glazed, bloodshot. "They don' t understand! No one understands! But you do, Amanda. You' re just like me! Tossed aside, abandoned!"

"No, Derek, I' m not," I said, slowly walking towards him, following the officer' s instructions through the earpiece. "I know things are hard, but this isn' t the answer."

"He abandoned you! Just like they abandoned me!" he yelled, his gaze wild. "But we can be together, Amanda! We can start over! Just you and me!" He took a step towards me, away from the edge, but then another step, and another, too quickly.

"Derek, stop!" I yelled, my heart leaping into my throat. But he was too far gone. He lunged, not at me, but past me, towards something unseen.

In that split second, a commotion erupted behind me. A police officer, moving too fast, too suddenly, bumped into me. I lost my footing. My body lurched forward, off balance.

A scream tore from my lungs as the ground beneath me vanished. I felt the awful, sickening rush of air, the terrifying sensation of falling. My hands flailed, grasping at nothing.

Then, a searing pain exploded in my right arm as I hit something hard-an awning, a ledge, I didn' t know. My momentum shifted, but the fall didn' t stop. I tumbled, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. The world spun. My head slammed against the concrete.

A sharp, unbearable pain shot through my arm, followed by a dull, throbbing ache that spread through my entire body. I tried to move, but I couldn' t. My vision blurred, sounds became muffled. I was lying on the cold, hard ground, looking up at the sky, which was now a swirling canvas of black and grey.

Faintly, like an echo from another dimension, I heard voices.

"Benjamin, what have you done?!" It was a man' s voice, filled with furious accusation. It sounded like Benjamin, but older, harsher.

"What are you talking about? I didn' t do this!" It was Benjamin' s voice, raw with panic.

"This was her fate, Benjamin! Jenna' s! The fall, the injury, the stalker! It was all meant for Jenna! But you had to interfere, didn' t you? You had to shift your affections, change the timeline!" The older voice was a growl of frustration. "You diverted her suffering onto Amanda!"

My mind, already fading, grasped at the words. Her fate... Jenna' s... diverted onto Amanda. The caller. The "future self." This was what he had meant? This was the "evidence"? My suffering was a transfer? A karmic swap? Because Benjamin had chosen Jenna?

"No! That' s not true! I love Amanda!" Benjamin' s voice was filled with a desperate denial.

"Love her? You call this love, Benjamin? You abandoned her when she needed you most. You believed the lies about her. You pushed her away, right into the path of this twisted fate." The older voice was cold, unforgiving. "You sealed her suffering the moment you chose Jenna."

Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the rain that had started to fall. It wasn' t a misunderstanding. It was worse. Far, far worse. Benjamin' s insecurity, his easy belief in a stranger' s lies, his shifting affections... they had broken me. Not just my heart, but my body. I was bleeding for Jenna' s sins. I was dying because Benjamin was a fool.

The pain intensified, a roaring storm inside me. My vision darkened. The voices faded into a distant hum. Blackness consumed me.