CHAPTER 176: CHAPTER 176: DO YOU NOT LOVE ME ANYMORE

These past few days Sheila Yardley has been on edge, tense with nerves, because Caleb Grant has spent most of the time at home and keeps sending her text messages.

Now whenever she hears her phone ring, she feels a chill run down her spine.

Thinking about it, Caleb hasn’t really done anything to her, but she doesn’t know why she fears him so much.

In the classroom, the teacher’s endless lecture was putting the students to sleep, and Sheila, who hadn’t slept well the night before, was lost in thought, far from the lecture’s content.

"Buzz—buzz—" The phone in her pocket vibrated twice, not loudly, but it startled Sheila awake.

She glanced around before stealthily pulling the phone out of her pocket. Unsurprisingly, it was a message from Caleb: What time does class end tonight?

She looked out at the pitch-dark sky, glanced at the time on her phone, and replied: About half an hour left.

After the message was sent, there was no reply; she wasn’t sure if he had any plans.

As class was coming to an end, she became more alert, packing up her things as she waited for the bell. The phone vibrated again, twice.

"Sheila, got a new boyfriend?"

"Huh? No, where’d you hear that?"

"You barely touched your phone after the breakup. Now it’s buzzing all the time. Are you getting back together?"

The mention of Ryder Griffin made Sheila’s smile a bit bitter; she merely responded with a single word: "No."

Her friends used to know how deep her feelings were for Ryder. She often bragged about him, and everyone thought they would go the distance. She herself believed it deeply, but later realized that the more trust there was, the more devastating the betrayal was.

The thought of reconciliation hadn’t crossed her mind.

Not to mention whether she could forgive him, Ryder never even came to her post-breakup with so much as an apology.

She never expected that when she opened her phone, the message was from Ryder.

She had deleted his number, but when it appeared, she immediately knew it was his.

The text read: Class ending soon? I’m waiting downstairs.

Seeing the message, Sheila was momentarily dazed.

The feeling was as if their relationship hadn’t ended, like they were back in the days when they dated.

After work, he’d come to the school, wait for her evening class to end, they’d grab a late-night bite, and he’d walk her back to her dorm.

Such a love was probably what everyone yearned for back in their school days; thinking back, she almost envied her past self.

The class bell brought her back to reality, and students surged out of the classroom.

Sheila clutched her books, walked to the balcony, standing by the railing and peering downstairs.

Soon, she saw the man standing under the streetlight by the roadside; his expression indistinct, only the faint glimmer of red at his fingertips discernible.

The man before her was both familiar and unfamiliar.

Sheila walked down the stairs, gazing at him from a distance, her steps slowing.

She didn’t know with what emotions to face Ryder nor the attitude Ryder came with.

He saw her, extinguished and discarded his cigarette, and strode over.

"Sheila..."

The night wind carried the scent of alcohol from him; Sheila frowned slightly: "You’ve been drinking?"

He was clearly somewhat drunk, his gaze hazy as he looked at her, replying, "Not much."

Sheila pressed her lips together, unsure what to say.

Seeing him like this, she felt a mix of emotions—not quite pity but the helplessness of seeing a familiar person become utterly unrecognizable.

In her memories, he’d never lost his composure before.

"Sheila... let’s go home." He reached out to grab Sheila’s arm, but she reflexively dodged.

Out of drunkenness perhaps, his grip wasn’t strong; startled, he looked at her like an abandoned child, muttering, "... do you no longer love me?"

"Do you even remember what you did?"

Ryder paused, staring at her face for a good while before speaking: "I’m sorry."

As those three words left his mouth, Sheila felt a sudden sting in her nose.

But memories of what she witnessed that day resurfaced, reminding her not to soften her resolve.

"There’s no point in saying this now; go home, it’s late."

"Can’t we give it another chance?"

"Ryder, there’s no going back."

Ryder suddenly let out a cold laugh, his gaze hardening as he looked at her and said, "Was it only I who was wrong? I was just caught by you, while you hid things better."

His words shocked Sheila; then she found it somewhat laughable, realizing he truly had changed, and questioning if she’d ever really known him.

"We’re the same type of people, why act the victim? Let’s pretend nothing happened, keep each other while giving each other some private space."

Sheila never expected him to utter such absurdities; she laughed, a painful smile: "You’re disgusting."

"Stop pretending! Lynn Kendall told me everything about your shady dealings."

Sheila didn’t defend herself; she knew that the situation wasn’t solely Lynn’s doing.

"Get lost, don’t come looking for me again."

Ryder suddenly sneered, tightly grabbing Sheila’s wrist, pulling her close, and wrapping his arm around her waist, staring down and saying, "How many men have you slept with?"

"Let go of me!"

Not only did Ryder not let go, but he restrained her head, ignoring her resistance, forcing a kiss thick with the scent of alcohol onto her.

For the first time, his kiss made Sheila feel repulsed, pushing him away forcefully and landing a solid slap on Ryder’s face.

Stunned by the slap, Ryder laughed mockingly yet paused, his eyes holding an unclear mixture of bitterness.

Sheila wiped her lips with the back of her hand forcefully, disregarding the drunken Ryder, turned, and ran away.

In her panicked state, she didn’t notice that during her confrontation with Ryder, a pair of dark eyes in a black car by the roadside kept staring at her, their gaze almost freezing.

"Beep—"

The piercing honk blared, the students passing by all glancing towards the car, including Sheila.

The headlights shone directly at her, stinging her eyes a bit, even against the light, she recognized the car’s owner.

Her mind went blank, standing stranded, unable to decide: whether to approach the car or not.

With so many people around and Ryder still nearby, getting into the car would make things even murkier; but walking away pretending not to know would also incur Caleb’s ire.