บททั้งหมดของ Aria: Scales of Love: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

The silence in the room was suddenly thick with unspoken words. Jude stood by the door, his presence filling the small space, a tangible reminder of the chasm that had opened between us. He didn’t move closer, just stood there, his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders slumped with a weight that seemed to mirror my own.“Thank you,” he said, his voice a raw, hoarse whisper. “For giving me this.”I didn’t say anything, just wrapped my arms tighter around myself, a defensive, protective gesture. I was still in my cute dark denim jeans and top, the clothes I had so carefully chosen to look good for him, and now they felt like a costume, a painful reminder of the girl I used to be, just a few hours ago.“I messed up, Aria,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I messed up in a way that I can’t even begin to explain. I was stupid. I was arrogant. And I was so, so lonely.”He took a step closer, his eyes pleading. “It’s no excuse. I know that. But when I’m here, and you’re not… i

The walk back to his dorm was silent and heavy. The campus, which had felt so alive and full of promise just hours ago, now seemed cloaked in a somber stillness. The few students we passed were just blurry figures in the periphery, their laughter a distant, irrelevant sound. The space between Jude and me felt like a chasm, a cold, empty void that echoed with everything that had been said and everything that had been left unsaid. He didn’t try to hold my hand. He just walked beside me, his presence a constant, looming reminder of the hurt that still throbbed beneath the surface of my skin.When we reached his building, he swiped his keycard with a hand that wasn't quite steady. The elevator ride up was even more suffocating, the soft hum of the machinery doing nothing to break the oppressive silence. He led me down the hall to his room, the familiar number on the door feeling like a stranger.He pushed the door open, and I stepped inside. The room was exactly as I remembered it—his sid

“I have to, Jude,” I whispered, my voice a hoarse, choked sound. “I have to go.”The words hung in the air between us, heavy and final. His face crumpled, the raw, desperate pleading in his eyes replaced by a look of utter devastation. He looked like I had just reached into his chest and ripped his heart out.“Aria, please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave us like this.”“I’m not breaking up with you, Jude,” I said, my voice a little stronger now, a little more certain. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not.”He looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes. “You’re not?”“No,” I said, shaking my head. “But I can’t… I can’t pretend that everything is okay. Because it’s not. You hurt me. You hurt me in a way I never thought you could. And I need time to process that. I need space to figure out how to get past it.”“Okay,” he said, his voice a desperate, eager whisper. “Okay. You can have all the time you need. All the space you nee

The next few days were a blur of forced normalcy. I went to school, I went to work, I went home. I smiled and nodded and pretended like everything was okay. But it wasn't. Every moment was a struggle, a conscious effort to keep the crushing weight of my sadness from swallowing me whole.My phone buzzed constantly, a steady stream of texts from Jude. Good morning, beautiful. I miss you. How was your day? I’m thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about the way you looked in the morning light. I love you. Each message was a painful reminder of what we had lost, a bittersweet cocktail of love and regret. I tried to respond, to keep my promise, but my replies were short, clipped, devoid of any real emotion. Good morning. It was fine. Me too. I love you too. The words felt hollow, empty, a lie.Roxy, Sam, and Lily could sense that something was wrong. They saw the shadows under my eyes, the forced smile that never quite reached my eyes, the way I would stare off into space, lost in a wo

The next few weeks settled into a fragile, new rhythm. The phone calls with Jude became a lifeline, a nightly ritual that was both a comfort and a test. He kept his promise. He was honest, sometimes brutally so. He told me about the stress of midterms, the loneliness that crept in after a long day of classes, the casual invitations to parties he turned down. Each confession was a small, painful offering, and with each one, a tiny, fractured piece of my trust began to mend. It wasn't easy. Some days, the image of him and Ashley would flash in my mind, and a cold wave of insecurity would wash over me. But I was fighting. We were fighting for each other.Then, Thanksgiving was on the horizon. It was a beacon of light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. With both of us out of school for the entire week, the days stretched out, full of possibility. Jude had a game on Saturday, and then he would be home. The thought of seeing him, of touching him, of having him all to myself for a whole week