Chapter 166 The Gossips

Chapter 166 The Gossips
~Teyana’s POV~

I sat under the shower longer than necessary, long enough for the steam to fog the mirror completely, long enough for the water to run lukewarm and still not wash away the heaviness clinging to my body. My palms pressed flat against the tiled wall as I sat there with my head bowed, eyes closed, breath uneven, because I remembered it.

Some parts of last night were a blur. How Jeremy showed up at the club, how his hand wrapped around mine, how the dizziness faltered as he dragged me away from everything I thought I wanted in that moment. Those parts slipped in and out of focus like badly edited scenes.

But the rest?

The rest was painfully clear.

My body remembered everything even when my mind wanted to pretend otherwise. The way my legs still felt weak, the dull ache between my thighs that refused to let me forget how thoroughly I had been undone, how shamelessly I had wanted him, how desperately I had begged for him to stay.

I shut the water off and rose in silence, droplets sliding down my skin, my chest rising and falling as I exhaled slowly.

I had blocked his contact while in the cab, while wrapped in his shirt from the previous night.

Not because I hated him. Not because I didn’t care anymore. But because if I didn’t, I knew myself well enough to know I would cave when he called. I would answer. I would listen. I would forgive things I shouldn’t forgive. Because it was Jeremy.

I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out, the cool air kissing my skin, making me wince when I took my first proper step. My thighs protested immediately, and I let out a quiet hiss before shaking my head at myself. My vagina felt rawly sore. So much for two people who had broken up.

The headache forming as a result of the hangover I was experiencing wasn’t helping either.

“Stupid,” I muttered under my breath, though I wasn’t entirely sure who I was scolding.

The elevator ride earlier replayed itself in my mind as I dressed slowly, carefully.

Ashley- my nosy neighbor, had stepped in just as the doors were closing, her cheerful presence filling the small space as usual. She had looked me up and down, eyes narrowing slightly in concern before she smiled.

“Morning,” she’d said. “Rough night?”

I’d laughed, too quickly. “You could say that.”

She tilted her head. “You okay? You’re walking like your legs hurt.” She had noticed when we walked out of the elevator.

For half a second, I had felt embarrassed.
“My heels,” I’d said, shrugging. “Slipped at the club. I think I strained something.”

“Oh no,” Ashley had winced. “So sorry. Be careful with those bitchy heels, yeah?”

I’d nodded, grateful when she finally walked away to her door.

If only she knew how thoroughly ruined I felt, and not just physically.

Last night had only happened to mess my thoughts up more. But maybe I needed it to realize I would could still detach after such intense session with him.

Back in my room now, I picked up my phone and saw Carol’s message staring back at me.

‘You okay? Did you sleep at Jeremy’s? You don’t have to be pressured to settle things with him, okay? You can always leave if he gets troublesome. Call me when you are sober.’

I read it twice, then sighed softly. The message had came in around 1am.

Carol had no idea how the night had truly ended. She didn’t know that troublesome was the wrong word entirely, or that pressure hadn’t been the problem. She didn’t know that I had wanted him just as badly as he wanted me, or that I had been the one who tipped everything over the edge.

‘I’m fine,’ I typed back after a moment. ‘I’ll call later.’

.

The rest of the day passed in an uneasy quiet. I stayed indoors, curtains half-drawn, sunlight slipping in lazily as if it, too, didn’t want to intrude. I pulled a novel from my shelf, one I’d been meaning to finish for weeks, and curled up with it on my bed.

The words blurred together.

I read the same paragraph over and over without absorbing anything, my thoughts drifting back to his voice, his touch, the way he had looked at me as though he could never let go. Was I even ready to lose Jeremy?

He had lied to me. He bribed someone to cover up something dirty that occurred between them. Not telling me about it only said a lot about the issue. Even if Jeremy didn’t do it, something was not right about it. I mean…he bribed a girl who he invited to his place. If he had told me, it would have been a different case.

By evening, my head still throbbed, but only lightly, a reminder of how much alcohol I had consumed the night before. The memory of me dancing in that club came in the afternoon, and I had almost covered up my eyes in shame.

…The next morning, school came whether I felt ready or not.

I dressed simply, choosing comfort over effort. I still felt slightly sore. I had to walk slowly because I had even discovered a slight bruise around my vagina skin while bathing this morning. Was Jeremy trying to punish me while at it? Or maybe the act was just too intense.

I stepped into my department hallway, relishing the fact that I now have school to take all my focus. I will be mostly in classes and the library. In no time, I will forget all traumatic event of the previous month, knowing I only have my mother’s worsening cancer to worry about.

I hadn’t even made it to the second stair when I heard it. 

“That’s her. I told you she’s in our department.” Were they referring to me?

I didn’t turn. I didn’t need to.

I felt it immediately—the way conversations dipped the moment I passed, how voices lowered as if I carried something contagious. It followed me down the hallway, lingered behind me in lecture rooms, curled itself into corners where whispered laughter and knowing glances lived comfortably.

They weren’t saying my name. But I heard them mention Jeremy, the leaked video, and the recent bribery incident. One even said I must have broken up with him. Another replied by saying nothing good could ever come out of stepsiblings courting. I couldn’t even get angry, because they were right. News traveled fast though.

You didn’t need to be guilty to be stained. You only needed to be close enough for people to connect the dots however they pleased.

By the time I reached the faculty building, I had already heard his name more than twice.

Once from a group of girls near the staircase, another time from a boy behind me who snorted softly and said something about “the senator’s son,” laughing like it was all some ridiculous entertainment.

I kept my head forward. Kept my pace steady.

I refused to rush. Refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

Inside the lecture hall, I chose a seat closer to the front than usual, far from the back rows where people gathered to dissect lives that weren’t theirs. I placed my bag beside me, opened my notebook, as I prepared to write.

When the lecturer walked in, and started lecturing, I forced myself to give all my attention to him.

By the time the class ended, I realized I hadn’t learned a single thing.

Outside, Carol was already waiting, arms folded loosely across her chest as her eyes searched my face.

“You’re okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” I said.

The words came easier now. Not because they were true, but because repetition stripped them of meaning.

We walked together for a while, the campus stretching around us like another world of its own. 

“So…mind telling me about what happened last night?” 

I replied immediately. “Nothing happened. I slept and left the next morning without waking him.” I didn’t want to disappoint Carol by telling her what really happened. She had fought for me, so getting to know we did something would only disappoint her.

“Better. I even wonder how he knew you were there. But then…he had someone tailing you before so I wasn’t so surprised. But girl! You danced fire…”

Her voice suddenly faded into the background as I spotted him. Jeremy.

Across the lawn.

Clad in black as usual, his head was bent slightly as he spoke to a man who looked like a lecturer.

My steps slowed to a stop.

Carol followed my gaze. “Do you want to go another way?” She asked after spotting him too.

“No,” I said quietly. “He will have to get used to seeing me and letting me be.”

We kept walking.

When we passed him, I felt his eyes on me. My heart thudded harder than I expected it to, anticipation tightening my chest as I waited for him to call my name.

He didn’t.

It should have felt relieving.

It didn’t.

That night, back in my room, I stood in front of my wardrobe for a long time. My fingers brushed past familiar fabrics until they closed around his hoodie, the one he’d left behind while he was at my side weeks ago. I held it to my chest, breathing in a scent that was already fading.

Then I folded it neatly and placed it at the back of the shelf.

I didn’t throw it away.

I wasn’t ready for that kind of lie.

If I was going to accept our separation, I had to do it honestly. Healthily.

I moved to my table and chair, opened my laptop, and stared at the blank document waiting for me. This was supposed to be the year I stopped procrastinating my dream. The year I finally started writing the story I kept telling myself I wasn’t ready to tell.

And now, there was only one thing I wanted to write about.

Us.

I sat there for a long moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure how to begin the prologue.

Then the words came.

‘The first time I saw him, I never predicted he would become my stepbrother, or be my ruin.’