ZAIJIAN HEWSON
With a heavy heart, I left Acir in the conference room.
It took a lot of self-restraint not to pull her into a hug and comfort her. The unshedded tears gathered in her eyes and her shaking hands was a shot in my heart. It ached and wrenched by the sight of her being so helpless.
Despite wanting to report Wesley to the Dean or the police, Acir’s decision didn’t waver.
Talking her out of it is useless. It was firm and clipped. No amount of reasoning out would change her mind. It’s a trait of hers, even since we were dating back then.
The last thing I want is to force her to do something she doesn’t want to do.
My strides were quick and heavy. The sound of my black shoes echoing on the tiled floor. Students greeted me as I passed by, I gave them curt nods–unable to force
