Drowning Him In Regret novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14 Gut–Wrenching

Mary hit me with the news the next morning–she’d taken care of all the paperwork. That was when it sank in: she was supposed to be gone by now.

“Ada,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, “I wanted to give you a heads–up sooner, but I didn’t want to screw with your recovery.

“I went back and forth about Toto, you know? That’s why I got everything squared away–just in case you couldn’t handle him.”

Her son had been on her case to move to Kasenland for ages, but she kept stressing about me and Toto.

To get her out the door, her family dropped a small fortune.

I tried to slip her some cash, but she just shook her head, giving me that look. “Kid, I know you’re barely getting by. Whole neighborhood knows who’s flat broke. That’d be you.”

My face burned. My broke–ass existence was no secret around here–everyone had my number. Jude bringing women home? Yeah, that was old news too.

To them, 1 was just a sad, sorry case, someone to cluck their tongues at. I never bothered hiding it, but I wasn’t about to broadcast my misery either.

Probably only Jude thought he was some kind of hero, tossing me scraps most people couldn’t even dream of.

At the airport, I stood frozen, staring at planes carving up the sky. I didn’t know where Toto was, but I told myself he’d be fine. He’d have a good life, a long one.

When I got back to the apartment, it felt like walking into a tomb. No warmth, no nothing. Summer my ass–this place was colder than a meat locker.

The doctor’s voice nagged at me: eat better, pop your pills, get ready for chemo.

I dragged myself to the kitchen and threw together some noodles, but they tasted like straight–up trash. I shoved the cup across the table, leaving it to fester.

In my room, I collapsed onto the bed, eyes tracing cracks in the ceiling. Work started tomorrow, I thought, grasping at straws. Maybe that would fill this hollowed–out void. At some point, I drifted off.

Then Jude–smelling like a distillery–crashed onto me, yanking me awake.

“Baby, what? You didn’t wait up?” he slurred, face mashed into my shoulder, whining like I’d stolen his favorite toy.

I pushed against him, my wound successfully unlocked! bulk, but he was a goddamn

brick wall.

“Christ, babe, you’re all bones now. You starving yourself or what?” he mumbled, totally clueless. “Saw those noodles you left out. Hell yeah, I demolished them. Tasted like

1/4

beaver

He kept vaperering, drunk off his ass. Got you cheese tarts wikshake, the good shit. Come on, get up, eat something. Gotta put some meat back on you

He yanked at my arm, and I sucked in a breath as pain ripped through me. He stumbled to the door grabbed a crumpled bag, and wobbled back

The second I saw the logo, my chest tightened, tears spilling before I could stop them.

It was from that place by our old school, the one we’d line up for like suckers. Never even tasted good–just dirt cheap.

Back then, I’d always pick the cheapest thing to save him a couple bucks.

He fumbled with the milkshake, cursing under his breath as he jammed the straw in, then held it to my lips like I was too weak to do it myself.

I took a sip. Goddamn, it was disgusting–pure chemical sludge.

But I smiled. A real smile, the kind that clawed its way up from somewhere deep and left me raw.

He set the milkshake down on the table, his fingers grazing my cheeks, wiping away tears with a gentleness that felt like it might unravel me completely

“Drink my milkshake, babe, and you’re mine. No more divorce crap, got it?” His voice carried a teasing lift, but there was a sharp undercurrent, like he was daring me to

argue.

He added, “Walk out on me? Who’s gonna hook you up with cheese tarts? Who’s gonna grab your precious milkshake, you goof?”

I froze, staring at him, my thoughts a tangled mess. Was he hitting the bottle hard because I flung the word “divorce” at him back at the station?

His kisses came down like a slow drizzle, tender but insistent, pulling me in. I went from dazed to ravenous, meeting his intensity with my own. My heart felt too full, like it was brimming with something molten and heavy, something I couldn’t grasp but craved to hold onto.

He eased me onto the bed, his hand slipping beneath my shirt, searching with a quiet confidence that sent my pulse into overdrive.

“No, Jude–stop it!” I shoved at him, panic crashing through me like a rogue wave.

I couldn’t let him see the scars etched across my skin. I couldn’t stomach the thought of another sterile hospital room.

He pulled back, his eyes clouded with confusion, then flicked to the pillow beside us. His brow furrowed as he plucked a single dog hair, holding it up like evidence, squinting at me.

“Hey, babe,” he said, “you good with allergies now? I’ll toss that damn dog out, and it’s just us. No distractions.”

2/4

Chapter 14 Gut–Wrenching

My brain short–circuited. My blood turned to sludge in my veins. Dog allergies? That was not me, you idiot–that was Vivian.

The realization hit like a sledgehammer, splintering everything.

He leaned in again, but I pushed him off with every shred of strength I could muster.

Crack! My palm stung as it connected with his cheek, the sound slicing through the air like a whip.

His gaze turned to ice, pinning me in place with a coldness that made my stomach

lurch.