Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 252

I couldn't catch every word, but the message he tried to convey was crystal clear. A long-dormant part of my heart nearly succumbed once again. My nails dug into my palms.

The slight pain brought back a sliver of sanity. "Is it dry now?"

Bryant's fingertips moved meticulously through my hair several times. "Yeah, pretty much done."

The sound of the hairdryer ceased, leaving the room in silence.

I nodded. "Um, thanks."

Then, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, his lips brushing my ear as he cautiously and ambiguously ventured, "Did you hear any of what I said?"

For someone as distinguished as him, this might have been the first time he had sincerely apologized to someone. Unlike the casual, thoughtless "sorry" from the past, he did lower his guard this time.

I wanted to give in, but fear held me back, the fear of getting burned again, of repeating past mistakes.

With a heavy heart, guided by reason, I responded, "I heard you. But, Bryant, some choices, once made, can't be undone. There's no turning back."

I had loved him for eight years. But I wanted to love myself a little more.

It seemed my words slowly extinguished the innate pride men carry, inch by inch.

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, his voice hoarse, "Okay."

"About today..." Ignoring the tightness in my chest, I gently freed myself from his hold and turned to look at him. "Thank you. I'm fine now. You can go."

His gaze lingered on me with reluctance. "So, that's it? You're done with me?"

His direct stare made me uneasy. "What else do you want?"

"I was thinking... maybe I could cook dinner as a way to apologize."

Bryant never cooked spicy food since he didn't eat it himself.

He untied his apron, his gaze soft on me. "It's not just about you accommodating me. I can learn to accommodate you, too."

I was momentarily speechless, not sure what to say. Since Bryant wanted it, I let him be. I had been too shocked and scared earlier to feel hungry, but then, seeing all my favorite dishes, my appetite returned with a vengeance.

Midway through the meal, I noticed Bryant’s face flushed and sweat beading on his nose from the spice. "Have some soup. You don't have to force yourself."

He took a large gulp of water. "And the past three years, were they a compromise for you?"

"Not at all," I shook my head.

It thought what it was like to love someone was to be content with sharing every meal with him.