A Break-Up He Regrets

A Break-Up He Regrets

Zoey Raven · Ongoing · 126.8k Words

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Introduction

Golden Nixon has always been the fat, quiet girl with a loving heart no one deserved.
In a prestigious university where beauty talks louder than brains, she's mocked, ignored, and bullied. Even by the one boy she has a crush on.

Allan Renshaw is the school's most wanted play boy. Tattooed, dreadlocked, dangerously charming, and admired. He's everything Golden isn't.

But Allan carries his own burdens. A painful past, a dying brother, and a desperate need for money.

At first, it's just a plan to manipulate Golden into funding his brother's treatment. But as Golden begins to show him what real love looks like, Allan finds himself drowning in guilt and falling for her, for real.

Yet shame is a cruel master. He hides her. He mocks her to fit in. And when Golden overhears him body shaming her in front of his friends, her already fragile heart shatters.

Will Allan fight for her? Or has Golden finally learned that loving someone harder won't make them love you back?

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Thrill of summer break

Ocean City University – First Semester, Final Year

Department of Medicine and Surgery

"Did you see how fat she still is? I thought summer was for shedding weight, not adding more!"

The sound of muffled laughter followed, sharp and cold like a slap to the face.

Golden Nixon paused mid step, her fingers tightening around the straps of her leather tote bag. Her pulse quickened, but she kept her head high, ignoring the sting of their words.  She heard them, she always did.

"She probably spent summer binge eating instead of beach hopping like the rest of us," another voice chimed in.

Golden swallowed the lump rising in her throat. Not today. Not again.

She walked to the far corner and sat alone, sliding into the empty seat with silence, her black curls hiding the sadness swimming in her eyes.

Across the room, Allan Renshaw sat slouched in his chair like a king bored of his throne. Legs spread wide, hands tattooed and tensed, dreadlocks spilling lazily around his face. His black eyes scanned the room with indifference, but even indifference had a bite when it came from him.

No one dared sit beside him. Not because there wasn't space or they were scared of him, but because Allan Renshaw was trouble. And everyone in the Department of Medicine and Surgery had made a silent pact to treat him like the mistake he was.

"He should have gone into Music or Crime," someone whispered behind Golden.

"Medicine? With that face and those tattoos?" another sneered.

But Allan didn't care. His fanbase was mostly from the Faculty of Arts and Social Science. Places where wild was sexy, and rule breaking meant hot. But here, in this room of prim perfectionists and clean cut saviors, Allan was the black sheep. 

His eyes flicked briefly to Golden, then away. The door creaked open, and the chatter instantly died down.

Professor Adigun, tall, wrinkled, and eternally tired looking, strode in with a stack of files under his arm. His silver rimmed glasses slid down his nose as he squinted at the class. He dropped the files on the podium with a resounding thud.

"Welcome back, future doctors," he said dryly. "I hope your summer break was not entirely wasted. I assume you remember you're in final year, and this semester isn't for the faint of heart."

The hall fell into silence, save for the scribble of pens.

"Attendance will begin today," the professor added, already flipping through the sheets.

Across the room, Allan leaned back lazily and kicked his legs up on the seat in front of him, ignoring the glares from the students nearby.

"Mr. Renshaw," the professor snapped, peering over his glasses. "Feet off the chair. This is not a cult meeting."

A few chuckles followed. Allan smirked, removed his legs, and muttered under his breath, "Could've fooled me."

Golden heard it. She tried not to smile.

"Miss Nixon," the professor called suddenly, and her head jerked up.

"Yes, sir?"

"I hope this year, you'll finally apply for that overseas research grant I keep telling you about. Don't waste that brain. You're top of your class for a reason."

The entire room turned to look at her.

Golden shrank slightly in her seat and nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll consider it."

From the back, someone whispered loudly, "Let's hope they accept her weight limit too."

Laughter erupted again. Golden clenched her pen tighter, biting her inner cheek. Allan glanced at her just briefly but said nothing. 


Ocean City University – Student Club Meeting

Main Campus Pavilion Hall

"...I swear, if one more person suggests we buy cheap drinks for this party, I'm cancelling it myself," Allan said, half laughing, half serious, as he leaned back in his seat like the king of trouble he was.

The room roared with laughter. Students from different departments filled the large, airy pavilion. The Ocean City University Club was one of the few things that brought everyone together, no matter their course or year.

Especially when the infamous Allan Renshaw was president.

"You already know people are expecting a lit house party," said Linda Miller, flipping her flaming red curls as she crossed her long legs in the front row. "We can't disappoint. Hot boys, hot girls... and definitely no fats allowed."

Her friends burst into giggles. Allan chuckled. He didn't say anything cruel, but he didn't stop it either. His lips curled lazily into a grin, and he sipped from his can of Monster as if he hadn't just laughed at someone who'd done nothing but live. 

The double doors creaked open. Golden Nixon walked in, calm, despite the pointed stares that began the moment she appeared. The room went silent for a split second before everyone broke into forced smiles like synchronized performers.

Linda leaned into her friend's ear. "Well, look who rolled in."

The girl beside her whispered, "She probably came for the snacks, not the party."

They giggled again but quieter this time.

Allan's gaze lifted. His eyes landed on Golden for a second, then flicked away. Nothing in his expression changed.

Golden walked to the third row, near the aisle, and sat. A few students shifted awkwardly as if they didn't want to be caught too close to her.

"Golden," a syrupy voice called out from the head table.

Vice President Clara James-short, blonde braids, dramatic lashes, and fake friendly energy smiled wide.

"We're so glad you made it. You have to come to the house party this Saturday, it won't be the same without you!" she gushed.

Golden looked at her, offering a slow, unreadable smile. "I'll be there."

"Oh, and you know how we're fundraising for the lighting setup and the live DJ, right?" Clara continued, lips curling sweetly. "Everyone's making donations...no pressure, of course."

Golden reached into her bag and handed her a signed cheque.

Clara's eyes widened, and she quickly covered her surprise with another beaming smile. "You never disappoint, Golden! Thank you so much!"

She passed the cheque to the treasurer.

"Biggest donation so far," the treasurer mumbled in shock.

Golden sat back quietly, her eyes calm but distant.

Meanwhile, three girls had cornered Allan at the side of the room, giggling, touching his arms, brushing against him unnecessarily. One bent down to whisper something in his ear. Another rubbed his shoulder. 

Golden's eyes shifted to the scene. Her heart thudded from disappointment. She looked away sharply. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her sleeves.

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