Summary of Chapter 33 – A turning point in The Boy Who Tattooed My Name on His Chest by Quirinus Amalia
Chapter 33 immerses the reader in an emotional journey within the world of The Boy Who Tattooed My Name on His Chest, written by Quirinus Amalia. With the hallmarks of Internet literature, this chapter balances emotion, tension, and revelation. Perfect for readers seeking narrative depth and authentic human connections.
After Zane came out of the shower, I stopped him.
“I saw you today.”
He paused, frowning at me.
I gave a bitter laugh, “It was raining heavily today. I sent you so many messages, but you didn’t reply. When I was coming home drenched, I saw you with another woman in the car.”
“Don’t you have anything to explain?”
His expression didn’t change at all.
It was as if he didn’t think he had done anything wrong.
It was as if he didn’t care about my thoughts or feelings.
“There’s nothing to explain. I was busy at the time. She’s my client.”
“A client needs to be that intimate?! You’ve never been this gentle with me!” I couldn’t hold it in any longer and shouted.
“Xena, you’re overthinking.” He answered impatiently.
“If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.”
“Calm down tonight. I’ll sleep in the guest room.”
He brushed past me and went upstairs.
I slowly sank to the floor, unable to hold back the tears anymore.
Honestly, if he had just comforted me, even with a few soft words, I would have believed him, I would have forgiven him.
But he refused to say anything. Even when he saw the tears in my eyes, he left without a second thought.
Leaving me alone, like a madwoman, collapsing in place.
“Zane, we’ve been together for five years. I’ve adored you for five years. I’m human too. I get tired…” I mumbled to the floor, as if speaking to him, or perhaps to myself.
“Couldn’t you just comfort me? Even just one sentence... I would remember it for the rest of my life.”
I trembled as I took out my phone and replied to my father’s message: Okay.
That night, I dreamed of Zane again.
But it was a younger version of him.
We met in college, through a campus club.
From the moment I met him, he was always the center of attention.
I chased him for four years.
I became the joke of the entire school, all because he never showed me any kindness.
But on graduation day, he got drunk and confessed his love to me.
I saw the contact name: Nat.
The profile picture was of a cute little cat.
Zane’s WhatsApp background, which had never changed, was also that cat.
My heart sank.
Was Nat the woman I saw with him last time?
Zane, you don’t even give me the right to turn a blind eye. Are you so eager to push me away?
I didn’t say anything. I silently turned off his screen.
I had a fever. While Zane was gone for several days, I stayed in my room, nearly fainting from the fever.
Once again, I sent him several messages, but received no reply.
I no longer held any hope. I dragged myself out and took a taxi to the hospital.
The doctor said my cold was quite severe and advised me to rest for a few days, avoiding any emotional stress.
So now, I had no energy or will to argue with him.
I prayed he would at least give me a few days of peace to recover.
Once I had the strength, I could deal with this one-sided relationship on my own terms…

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