MENYESAL SETELAH MENYIA-NYIAKAN ANAK DAN ISTRI

The first thing August noticed was how the receptionist frowned at his student ID like it was counterfeit.

“You said your name was… August Hale?”

August nodded, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his sweater to keep them from shaking. “Yeah. I got the scholarship email last month. I’m supposed to be assigned dorm 3C.”

The receptionist looked back at the screen. Clicked. Paused. Clicked again.

Then, with a confused smile, she said, “Well, that’s strange. August Hale already checked in yesterday.”

August blinked. “I I just arrived. That’s impossible.”

She tilted the monitor slightly toward him. On the screen was a check in list, and sure enough, next to August Hale was a timestamp. His name, already signed in. His dorm key issued. His photo… but it wasn’t his.

“That’s not me,” he said slowly. “That’s not my picture.”

She leaned forward, squinting. “Oh… it does look different.” Her smile faltered. “But the system says everything’s already been processed. I’ll have to call the office.”

August stepped aside, heart thudding, pulse climbing in his throat like a panic attack waiting to drop. He hadn’t come here to be seen. He hadn’t even told anyone from his old life where he was going not after everything that happened.

It took three years to claw his way out of that place.

Three years to build a new self.

And now someone was wearing his name like it belonged to them.

Fifteen minutes later, he stood awkwardly outside the dorm building, gripping the backup keycard they’d reluctantly given him while the mix up was being “investigated.” His new dormmate hadn’t arrived yet according to the system but that wasn’t what kept his spine tight and his chest hollow.

It was the thought: Someone got here before me. Someone who pretended to be me.

He pushed open the door to 3C and stepped inside.

It smelled like clean linen and citrus spray. The space was neat, minimalist, two beds on opposite walls. One bed was untouched. The other had already been claimed. Books stacked. Clothes folded. A framed photo faced away from view.

On the desk sat a thin silver laptop its screen still glowing.

August approached it, cautious, as if it might burn him. He knew he shouldn’t, but curiosity scratched louder than fear. He tapped the touchpad.

The screen lit up.

Welcome back, August Hale.

His breath caught.

That was his desktop background. The one he used on his old computer back home.

A photo of the ocean at night.

Waves, dark and endless, crashing against jagged rocks.

He stepped back, heart hammering. This wasn’t a mistake.

This was personal.

The knock came at midnight.

August had been lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, muscles tight beneath the blanket.

The door creaked open without a word.

A tall figure stepped in. Broad shouldered. Dressed in black.

And the moment their eyes met, August’s stomach flipped.

The stranger’s gaze lingered too long. Intimate. Too knowing.

He smiled slowly. Like he’d been waiting.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and smooth. “Weird meeting like this.”

August sat up. “You

You’re the one who”

“Yeah. August Hale, right?” The stranger held up a student ID with a smirk. “What a coincidence.”

August’s mouth went dry. “That’s my name.”

“No,” the stranger said softly, stepping closer. “It’s mine now.”

Then, tilting his head:

“But if it bothers you, you can call me Sebastian.”