Aww Seven Exes Begged Cute Blocked novel Chapter 11

**A Promise Written on the Rusted Edge of Time by Dael Rowan Sire**

**Chapter 11**

I dashed through the relentless downpour, my clothes clinging to me like a second skin, completely drenched and shivering uncontrollably. Each step felt heavier as I made my way back to the dormitory, the cold seeping into my bones, making me feel as if I was moving through molasses. When I finally pushed the door open, the chatter of my roommates halted momentarily, their eyes widening as they took in my sorry state—a pathetic, dripping mess.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” one of them guffawed, breaking the silence, and the laughter erupted like a wave crashing on the shore.

“Serves you right for stalking Dylan,” another chimed in, her voice laced with mockery.

“Right? He’s got a new girlfriend, and you still can’t take a hint,” Sarah added, her tone dripping with disdain.

I chose to ignore their taunts and marched straight to my closet, desperate for a towel to dry off. But as I swung the door open, my heart sank. The space was completely bare—no towels, no clothes, not even a trace of my toiletries.

“You guys!” I exclaimed, my voice raspy from the cold and the exertion of running.

“Oh, your stuff?” Sarah replied nonchalantly, a smirk playing on her lips. “We threw it all out.”

“What gives you the right to do that?” I shot back, anger boiling within me.

“What gives us the right?” she laughed coldly, a cruel glint in her eyes. “This is our room, and we don’t want parasites here.”

“Your stuff’s in the trash. Go dig it out yourself,” she added, shrugging as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

I felt a surge of fury and dashed into the hallway, my heart racing as I began rifling through the garbage. My towels lay shredded, my clothes stained with black ink, and my shampoo bottles were completely emptied, their contents oozing out like a cruel joke.

Crouching there beside the trash can, I trembled—not just from the cold but from a deep, seething rage that coursed through my veins. I couldn’t tell if I was shaking more from the icy rain or the boiling anger inside me.

That night, as I lay in bed, a fever took hold of me. I was lost in a haze, burning up under the covers, my body aching and my mind drifting in and out of consciousness. My roommates didn’t seem to care at all; in fact, I could hear them laughing in the other room.

“Good. That’s what you get for standing in the rain!” one of them called out, her voice filled with glee.

“Stop acting pitiful. Think Dylan’s gonna come take care of you?” another chimed in, their laughter echoing in my ears like a cruel symphony.

“Dream on. He’s probably with Madi,” one of them sneered.

My entire being felt like it was on fire, and everything around me seemed fuzzy and distorted. I desperately needed medical attention, but the effort to sit up was monumental. My throat was parched, yet the nightstand beside me remained empty, mocking my thirst.

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