Semua Bab Broken vows mended hearts : Bab 31 - Bab 35

The next few days unfolded like quiet notes of a new song—soft, unsure, and delicately stitched together with silence and almosts. Anna had started to recognize the rhythm: classes with dull-eyed lecturers, dry meals she barely tasted, late afternoons buried in textbooks—and Dimeji.Always Dimeji.He had a way of showing up, like clockwork, sliding into the chair beside her in the library, headphones slung casually around his neck, that lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.“You always read like the world’s about to end,” he teased one afternoon, setting down a cold bottle of malt drink beside her.Anna didn’t look up from her book. “It kind of is. Exams in two weeks.”He laughed, the kind of laugh that vibrated deep and smooth, the kind that made people turn to look, wondering what was so funny.“You act like the book’s going to bite you.”She finally glanced at him, brow arched. “It already has.”He shook his head, still smiling. “You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”She hated h

The first rays of morning crept through the sheer curtains, casting golden streaks across the tangled bedsheets. Anna stirred, her head pounding, body sore, and mouth tasting of dread. Her vision blurred as she blinked awake, the scent of stale alcohol and male cologne heavy in the air.Her limbs felt foreign, exposed—naked.Her breath caught in her throat.Panic clawed at her chest as she pulled the sheet tighter around her bare skin. Dimeji lay beside her, sprawled on his back like he had not a care in the world. Shirtless. Smirking.She scrambled up, clutching the sheet to her chest. “W-What happened last night?” she whispered, heart hammering against her ribs.Dimeji rolled his eyes lazily and stretched. “What do you think happened?” he said, his voice annoyingly casual. “You passed out. I handled the rest.”The blood drained from Anna’s face.“You... you touched me?” Her voice broke. “You had sex with me while I was unconscious?”He sat up slowly, yawning. “Stop acting like a chi

The hostel corridor was quiet when Anna returned. The usual hum of gossip and muffled laughter from other rooms sounded distant, almost unreal. Her steps were slow, unsteady—like someone walking through a fog. She reached for her key with trembling fingers, struggling to fit it into the lock. When the door finally opened, she stepped in, closed it behind her, and leaned against it as if her entire world was caving in.Her room, dimly lit by the pale evening sunlight filtering through the curtains, offered no comfort. The same mattress on the floor, the pile of books she hadn’t touched in weeks, the dress she wore two days ago still lying carelessly on the chair. Everything felt foreign, like she was looking at a version of her life she no longer belonged to.She stumbled to her bed, collapsed on it, and broke into heavy sobs. Her chest heaved as she cried into her pillow, her body curling into itself. Her throat burned, her stomach churned. Every fiber of her being felt dirty, broken.