Page 97 of The Bonventi Secret
I let her guide me to the bench, but I can't keep still. My leg bounces uncontrollably, and I twist the skull pendant on my necklace between my fingers.
"What if they hated it?" I say, voicing the fear that's been gnawing at me since I left the room. "What if it was all for nothing?"
Megan squeezes my hand. "Stop it. Your dissertation was brilliant, and you defended it fantastically, I'm sure," she says, turning to me, "Look, we practiced. It's great. You know it, I know it, and those stuffy professors in there know it too."
I try to smile, but it feels more like a grimace. "Easy for you to say, Dr. Walker. You've already got your PhD in the bag."
"And you will too, in about five minutes," Megan says confidently. "Now, take a deep breath before you hyperventilate."
"What if they hate it?" I say, my voice cracking. "What if?—"
"If you say 'what if' one more time, I swear to God," Megan threatens playfully, but her grip on my hand tightens.
"You should have seen Dr. Harrison's face when I discussed the parallels between Victorian ghost stories and modern true crime. It was like I was fucking speaking Greek to him."
"Oh. My. God. Stop. Dr. Harrison always looks like he has no idea what's going on. You're good, Liv. No revisions. PhD. Dr. Falcone – or should I say Dr. Bonventi – full stop."
I laugh despite myself, remembering Enzo's promise this morning. He'd kissed me deeply and said, "Today you become Dr. Bonventi, cara mia." The memory of his confidence in me helps steady my breathing.
"God, my hands won't stop shaking," I mutter, watching my fingers tremble. "It's not fair, is it? All these years of my life being judged by five people who?—"
The conference room door opens, and Dr. Hawkins steps out. His face is unreadable, and my heart stops.
"Livia, there was some debate about a few points, but," he says and trails off. My heart leaps into my throat, and Megan squeezes my hand so hard it almost hurts.
"In short, Ms. Falcone, we are pleased to inform you that you have successfully defended your dissertation. Congratulations, Doctor."
My heart races as Dr. Hawkins's words sink in. I've done it. I'm a doctor. Megan squeals and throws her arms around me, nearly knocking me off balance.
"I told you! I told you!" she shouts, her voice echoing down the hallway.
I can't speak. My throat is tight, and tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Years of work, of doubt, of late nights and early mornings – it's all led to this moment. I clutch my skull pendant, feeling its familiar weight in my palm.
"Thank you, Dr. Hawkins, for everything."
"No need. You did all the work. You earned this. Now, go celebrate, and I'll see you at the ceremony."
"Come on!" Megan grabs my hand, pulling me down the hallway. "Let's get out of here before they change their minds!"
Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I find myself laughing as we half-run, half-dance down the corridor.
"We did it!" I scream, not caring who hears. "We fucking did it!"
Megan's dancing beside me, her blonde hair flying as she spins. "We’re doctors, bitches!"
We're acting like complete idiots, but I don't care. Years of stress and anxiety are pouring out of me in waves of pure joy.
"I can't believe it's over," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "All those years..."
"I know," Megan says. "But we did it. We're officially badasses now."
"Uh, hell yeah, we are."
We burst through the heavy doors into the bright afternoon sun, and I can't contain myself. I throw my head back and let out a scream of victory that's been building for years.
"WE FUCKING DID IT!"
A sharp intake of breath makes me snap my head forward. Enzo's standing there, looking absolutely terrified, his hand actually on his concealed weapon. When he realizes there's no threat, just his overexcited fiancée losing her mind, his face transforms into pure joy.
