Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 126

As I thought about her marriage life, it was clear she didn't have it easy, which made me feel quite melancholic. "Auntie..."

She gently patted my head, her comforting touch familiar. "Oh, sweetie, talk to me. Why are you getting a divorce?"

"I..."

Aunt Cheryl and my dad actually looked quite alike around their eyes and brows. Every time I looked at her, I felt this warm sense of familiarity.

Her question broke the dam holding back my tears, and I found myself sobbing uncontrollably in her embrace. "I... I lost my baby, Auntie. He was already forming hands and feet... but I couldn't protect him. I failed him!"

She soothingly rubbed my back, comforting me with her gentle pats. "Oh, honey, life and children, it's all about timing and fate. It's not your fault. It was just not meant to be this time."

"I was so... so looking forward to his arrival."

I yearned for a true family member of my own.

Laying in her arms, I cried for what felt like an eternity until my sobs finally began to subside. She wiped away my tears, "If you've thought it through and want a divorce, then do it. I support you."

"Okay..."

After a long heart-to-heart with Aunt Cheryl, I wouldn’t let her say no to the $200,000 before finally getting up to leave.

She assured me that her money should be enough, but I suspected she was just trying not to worry me. If it hadn't been for her taking me in back then, I would have been left to fend for myself against the cold, hunger, and debt collectors.

Some debts of gratitude are just impossible to repay.

The entrance was crowded with nurses. I intended to ignore it, but a glance inside the room as I passed left me stunned.

Bryant and Mark were in the midst of a heated brawl!

It was a full-on fight, punches landing with thuds, a far cry from their days of close friendship.

What shocked me more was Mark's transformation. Known for his gentle demeanor, he now exuded a chilling aura as he pinned Bryant to the ground, his voice cold as ice, "Bryant, how could you treat her this way? What kind of man does that make you?"

His voice, usually so soft, now carried a bone-chilling coldness.

Both men were visibly injured, but Bryant, wiping blood from his lip with a thumb, responded with a taunting smile, "Doesn’t matter what kind of man I am, she's still my wife. Can you offer her everything that I can?"