Jealousy Alpha's Regret novel Chapter 119

Chapter 119

“One of my many hidden talents,” he chuckled, his eyes crinkling into

happy slits at my enjoyment. Something about making me happy

seemed to genuinely please him, and the feeling was mutual. In a

world where everyone wanted something from me, Jack Lowell’s

simple kindness was refreshing.

“Thank you so much,” I started to say again, but stopped when I noticed his expression change. His gaze had fixed on my design

sketches, and his eyes suddenly glistened with what looked like

unshed tears.

“Mr. Lowell?” I asked gently. “Are you okay?”

He blinked rapidly, seeming to come back to himself. “I’m sorry, my

dear. I just…” He gestured vaguely toward my sketches. “Your work

reminded me of someone.”

“Of who?” I asked, curious about this sudden emotional reaction.

“My daughter,” he said softly. “She was a member of our Lowell pack,

lost to us many years ago.”

I immediately brought over the second chair from my small garden

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set, placing it near him. “Please, sit down.”

Jack lowered himself into the chair with a grateful nod. “She had a similar artistic sensibility–saw beauty in the space between things, not just in the things themselves.”

“She was a designer too?” I asked, settling into my own chair. Female

designers weren’t common in werewolf communities, where most

women were still pushed toward more “suitable” roles.

“Yes, though not many knew. She had extraordinary talent.” His voice

held a mixture of pride and deep sadness. “We lost her during a pack

conflict

years ago. She simply… disappeared.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, meaning it. The pain in his eyes was still fresh,

despite the years that must have passed.

He smiled sadly, then deliberately changed the subject, gesturing

toward my sketches. “These are quite good. Are they for the Polaris

Studio competition? Ethan mentioned it to me.”

I nodded, feeling a small flutter of pride. “Yes, this will be my first

major competition entry since…” I hesitated, then finished, “since

leaving the Grey family.”

“May I?” he asked, reaching toward the sketches. When I nodded, he

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picked them up with careful hands, studying them with the trained

eye of someone who understood design.

“I’m planning to use elements that suggest moonlight and wolf

shadows,” I explained, “but subtle enough that human viewers won’t

recognize the werewolf cultural references.”

Jack examined the designs with surprising expertise, asking technical

questions about materials and construction that revealed his deep

knowledge of jewelry design. I found myself relaxing as we discussed

creative approaches and technical challenges.

“You have a remarkable eye for balance,” he commented, returning my

sketches. “It’s rare to see someone so young with such a mature sense

of composition.”

Time passed quickly as we talked. Eventually, Jack glanced at his

watch and sighed. “I should let you get back to your work. I’ve taken

up enough of your time.”

“Not at all,” I assured him, rising to walk him to the gate. “Talking

with you actually helped me relax. Consider it payment for the

muffins.”

His face brightened at my words. “I’m glad to hear that.”

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As I opened the gate for him, I felt a strange reluctance to see him go.

There was something comforting about Jack Lowell’s presence that

reminded me of my father–a genuine interest in my well–being that

asked nothing in return.

“Thank you again for coming by,” I said, watching him step through

the gate.

“The pleasure was mine, Iris.” He turned back briefly. “Good luck with

your competition. Though with talent like yours, you won’t need

much luck.”

I watched him walk away, his steps measured and dignified despite

his age. When he was out of sight, I returned to my work with

renewed energy, feeling somehow lighter than before.

As I settled back among my moon flowers and picked up my pencil, I

realized that for the first time in weeks, I hadn’t thought about

Sebastien Grey or the Stone family drama for an entire hour. Perhaps

that was the greatest gift Jack Lowell had brought me today–not just

muffins, but a brief respite from my troubles and a reminder that

there were still genuinely kind people in the world.

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