Mr Billionaire's Regret Chasing His Irresistible Wife (Jared and Arielle) novel Chapter 29

(ARIELLE'S POV)

“You don't mean it!” Ashley exclaimed over the phone. “I can imagine the look of shock on her face.”

The instant I got to the office and settled in, I got on a call with Ashley to fill her in on the event of the morning. She was surprised and happy, and it reflected in her cheerful laughter.

“For a moment, I feared she was going to lunge at me in anger. She was so shocked. I guess being turned down when she was used to having her way was not such a good experience for her.”

“I know, right? Jared deserves a pat on the back. He should do that often. Let her know she can't always have her way,” Ashley squealed.

“I wish he could continue this way,” I said, my voice suddenly losing some of its brightness. “It hurts to see him fluctuate all the time. This time he's defending me, the other, he's doing all her biddings.”

“Come on, don't be like that. Didn't you say he was remorseful last night and apologized?”

“He did, but–”

“No buts, Arielle Smith. I'm sorry to have suggested the divorce, your husband is a good man, one who apologises when he's wrong. There are not many of his kind in the world anymore. Forgive his shortcomings, and fix your marriage. Do not let her come in between you two ever again. And most importantly, communication between you and Jared should be strong.”

“Fine, I –”

The knock on the door interrupted me. I turned to it, “Rebecca?”

“It is I,” Mr Stone’s voice responded instead.

“Sorry, I have to go, Ash. My manager is at the door. I will call you during lunch break so we can continue this discussion.”

“Oh, it's fine,” Ashley said, and dropped the call.

I dropped my phone on the table, straightened my skirt, and gave a loud, “I'm coming,” before walking towards the door. I opened it to find Mr Stone standing, his frame towering over the doorway.

“Hi, Mr Stone.”

“Hi, Arielle. Can I come in?” He asked, gesturing into my office.

“Sure,” I nodded and let him walk past me.

I closed the door and joined him. “Please, sit,” I motioned to the vacant chair.

“Oh, that won't be necessary,” he said, waving me off. “I won't be staying long.”

“Okay,” I responded, my mind already racing with thoughts on why he was in my office.

“I should cut to the chase. I'm here in regards to the culinary scholarship programme, Arielle,” he said, his tone now serious.

Oh, that? I mentally smacked my head for being so forgetful. Since he mentioned it to me weeks back, I have not thought of it, or given him a response. “To be honest, Mr Stone, I have not thought about the offer since the last day we spoke about it. I'm sorry.”