All Chapters of Rich Love : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Carolyn’s POVThe worst thing about rumors isn’t that they’re lies.It’s that they have teeth.They bite into the softest parts of you, gnawing until the truth no longer matters.And the truth was simple: I never told anyone about J.J.’s overdose.But the school didn’t care.The school cared about the story — and the story had already been written.J.J. does coke.Carolyn knew.So why else would the whole thing be out unless she was the one who talked?By the time I stepped back into the corridors, the whispers had grown claws. Girls leaned into one another, cupping their hands like conspirators. Boys snickered behind their palms, their laughter sharp as glass. Teachers didn’t say it outright, but their eyes did — suspicion flickering across their faces as if they were wondering if I was more than the diligent, quiet girl they thought I was.The air itself seemed different. Heavy. Electric. Charged with an accusation I hadn’t spoken but now had to carry.So I built a wall.Cold. Strai

Carolyn’s POVThere’s something about silence that makes you notice the wrong things.The way shoes echo too loudly down the hallway. The way the ceiling fans sound more like blades cutting the air than simple whirring. The way laughter carries from corners you don’t belong to.That’s what the days before the SS1 graduation party felt like.Not joy. Not a celebration.But silence. Sharp, heavy, watchful silence.Everyone else seemed giddy. Dresses were being fitted, suits ironed, cameras polished for endless flashes. It was supposed to be a night of glamour — our one brief claim to the stage before the exams swallowed us whole.But for me, it felt like the slow tightening of a noose.Because I could feel it. The storm. The eyes. The whispers I couldn’t quite hear but always felt pressing against my skin.And I knew, somehow, that J.J. was at the center of it.He’d been different lately. Not the boy who used to grin crookedly at me in hallways, not the boy whose hand I’d secretly held

Carolyn's POVThe lights were golden, heavy, almost too warm against her skin. A hundred bodies pressed into the decorated hall, the SS1 graduation party in full swing. The ceiling dripped with streamers and fairy lights that shimmered in soft strands of silver, gold, and blue. Music pounded from the speakers, too loud, too insistent, the kind of rhythm meant to make people forget themselves.But Carolyn couldn’t forget.She’d seen him earlier—J.J.—laughing at something Julius had said, a red cup in his hand, his suit jacket undone like he owned the night. His eyes had swept the room, skimming over her without a pause, without even the faintest flicker of recognition. As though she were just another face in the crowd, nothing more.She told herself it didn’t matter. That she didn’t come here for him. That she was here because George had insisted she couldn’t keep hiding in the shadows forever.“You’re stronger than that,” George had said, his voice firm, his hand brushing against hers

Carolyn's POVI didn’t cry.Not in that hall.Not under the sharp glow of the stage lights.Not when the microphone in J.J.’s hand cut through me like a blade.I just walked out.The floor didn’t tilt. The crowd didn’t blur. Even the music that swallowed his words afterward couldn’t touch me.But inside, I was breaking. Quietly. Slowly. Like glass splintering in silence before it finally falls.George was waiting at the door before I could even think about what came next. His face was storm-dark, his jaw set so tight it looked painful.“Carolyn,” he said softly, like my name was the only thing keeping me upright.I wanted to answer. To tell him I was fine. To laugh. To scream. To do anything except stand there feeling the world tilt beneath my skin.But the words wouldn’t come.So I just kept walking.He fell into step beside me, steady and silent, his presence enough to keep me from shattering outright.Outside, the night air cut cool against my skin, sharp and merciless. The parking

Carolyn's POVThe stage lights still haunt me.I don’t dream of them, not exactly, but they flicker at the edge of my vision every time I close my eyes — that burning white glare, too sharp, too bright, pinning me to the floor while the entire school watched.I wasn’t even on stage. But humiliation doesn’t care about physical placement.When J.J. opened his mouth, when he let the words spill out like poison, it was as if the spotlight shifted, cutting through the crowd and branding me where I stood.The worst part?He looked at me while he said it.As if daring me to break.I didn’t.Not then. Not ever again.But I felt something inside me harden.Something I can’t soften, even if I tried.The party ended, and whispers followed me like shadows. I heard them in the parking lot, the bathrooms, the hallways. They weren’t new. Whispers had been my companions for months. But this time, they weren’t about rumors.They were about truths.J.J.’s truths.The cocaine. The club. The hospital.It