Aww Seven Exes Begged Cute Blocked novel Chapter 18

**A Promise Written on the Rusted Edge of Time by Dael Rowan Sire**
**Chapter 18**

In a moment that felt both liberating and terrifying, he posted on Riverside High’s Facebook group. The title? “About Ivy Morgan – The Truth I Should’ve Told.”

This wasn’t just a casual update; it was an enormous confession that laid bare the entire saga of our lives, a narrative woven with threads of heartache and regret.

He recounted my past, delving into the countless hours I had toiled, the sacrifices I had made, and the unwavering decency that defined who I was. He shared how Madison had manipulated him, how he had uttered those vile words that still echoed in my mind. He reflected on his foolishness, the weight of his remorse heavy on his shoulders, and the turmoil that churned within him.

But the most significant revelation? He meticulously laid out the facts, like a lawyer presenting a case, each point more damning than the last.

He explained how I had never taken a single penny from him, how I had worked tirelessly at various jobs to repay him, and how I had kept that little notebook, a testament to my integrity, where I had documented every cent I owed him.

To add fuel to the fire, he attached photos of the Venmo receipts and those handwritten tens I had given him, tangible proof of my commitment to making things right.

At the conclusion of his heartfelt message, he wrote:

[Ivy was never a parasite.

She’s the most independent, strongest, kindest person I’ve ever known.

I didn’t deserve her friendship.

I destroyed the most precious thing in my life with my own hands.

If I could do it over, I wish I’d never met Madison.

But there’s no going back.

Ivy, I’m sorry.

I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just want you to be happy.

And to everyone who hurt Ivy—you better watch your backs.]

The moment his words hit the digital airwaves, the post exploded in popularity, spreading like wildfire across the internet.

As the truth emerged, the tide of public opinion shifted dramatically. Those who had once hurled insults at me turned their ire toward Madison. Friends who had pitied her now found themselves sympathizing with my plight.

Madison’s online persona came crashing down in a spectacular fashion.

“Take that, bitch.” “Manipulative slut.” “Homewrecker.” The vitriol was relentless, a torrent of harsh words that left no room for mercy.

I heard whispers that she couldn’t bear the weight of the backlash and had chosen to drop out.

But honestly, none of that mattered to me anymore.

My manager, a woman who had seen me through thick and thin, held up her phone, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “Ivy, is this about you?”

I glanced at the screen and nodded, my heart racing. “Yeah.”

“Holy shit, you went through all that,” she said, her voice tinged with empathy. She looked at me as if I were a fragile piece of glass, ready to shatter. “That guy’s a total asshole.”

“Ancient history,” I replied, handing her phone back and returning to my tasks.

Yes, ancient history.

Justice that arrives late is hardly justice at all. It’s like receiving an apology after your world has already crumbled—what good does it do?

I never craved this entire internet drama; all I had ever wanted was for one person to stand up for me when everything was unraveling.

Not someone who would slink back into my life to say sorry after the damage was irrevocably done.

Another month slipped by, and I had managed to save enough money. It was time to escape, to put even more distance between myself and the chaos.

Perhaps I would finish high school in a different place; perhaps not.

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