Breaking Free From 62
Posted on July 02, 2025 · 0 mins read
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Chapter 62

“What is it, Anya?” Rosalie’s voice was steady, but the dazed look in her eyes revealed her intoxication. Anya’s eyes fell to the empty vodka bottle in Rosalie’s hand. “Rosalie, you drank the whole bottle?” she exclaimed.

Rosalie had polished off the entire bottle of 96% proof vodka in minutes. “She’s crazy,” Anya thought, worry creeping in. “Does she even care about her health?”

Startled by Anya’s outburst, Rosalie pouted, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her voice quivering. “Anya, do you also hate me now?”

Anya stared, speechless. This wasn’t the Rosalie she knew. When sober, Rosalie was nothing like this. Anya immediately softened, trying to reassure her. “No, no. Rosalie, you’re amazing. You’re my favorite,” Anya cooed.

Rosalie’s lips quivered. Her quiet voice, tinged with hurt and sorrow, whispered, “If I’m so great, why doesn’t Julian love me? I love him so much, but why doesn’t he love me back?”

“How could he want me dead?” she whispered, almost to herself. “I love him so much… I love him so much…” Her words broke into a soft sob.

It was clear Rosalie loved Julian, but she had rarely voiced it so openly. If not for the alcohol, she might never have admitted it. She loved Julian, but she also had her pride.

Anya’s heart twisted as she watched Rosalie sob. A fresh wave of anger toward Julian surged within her. How could he treat her like this? Anya raged silently.

Rosalie sniffled. “Anya, if I’m so great, why doesn’t he love me?”

Anya’s response was blunt, her frustration evident. “Because he’s a jerk.”

Rosalie’s expression froze momentarily as she processed Anya’s words. Then, tilting her head, she seemed to ponder them before bursting into giggles, covering her mouth like a child who’d heard something funny.


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