Jealousy Alpha's Regret novel Chapter 80

Iris’s POV

The soft purr of Noah’s car engine cut off as we pulled into the Blue

Harbor parking lot. I stared at the dashboard clock–2:37 AM. God, I

was exhausted. The weight of pregnancy hormones combined with

tonight’s emotional rollercoaster left me feeling like I’d been hit by a

truck.

“Here we are,” Noah said, his voice gentle in the quiet car. “Safe and

sound.”

I managed a weak smile, grateful for his rescue on that dark mountain

road. “Thank you, Noah. Really. Tonight would’ve been a disaster

without you.”

He shrugged, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m just glad I was

driving by. You shouldn’t have been left out there alone, Iris.”

The unspoken criticism of Sebastien hung in the air between us. I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware that I was still wearing Noah’s

jacket. The soft fabric smelled like cedar and something uniquely him

-nothing like Sebastien’s woodsy, dominant scent that seemed to

wrap around me whether I wanted it or not.

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“I should give this back,” I said, reaching for the zipper.

“No, keep it on,” Noah replied quickly, his hand briefly touching mine

before pulling back. “It’s cold, and you still need to get upstairs. Even

with our…” he hesitated, “…our constitution, you should stay warm.”

I paused, fingers still on the zipper. Noah had been my friend for so

many years. There was history there, comfort. For a moment, I

considered keeping the jacket, letting the simple gesture stretch our

time together a little longer.

“No, I’d better return it now,” I said firmly, slipping it off my

shoulders. “My studio’s been crazy busy lately. Who knows when we’ll

see each other again? I wouldn’t want to hold your jacket hostage.”

Noah’s expression flickered with something–disappointment maybe

-before he nodded and accepted the jacket. His fingers brushed

against mine during the exchange, and I pulled my hand back perhaps

too quickly.

“Thanks again,” I said, reaching for the door handle. “For everything.”

“Anytime, Iris. I mean it.” His voice was sincere, eyes searching mine.

“If you need anything–anything at all–just call. Don’t try to handle

everything alone.”

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I nodded, suddenly eager to escape the intensity of his gaze. The door

clicked shut behind me, and I felt Noah’s eyes following me all the

way to the elevator. I didn’t look back, but I could sense him waiting,

watching until the elevator doors closed between us.

Morning light streamed through my bedroom window, hitting my face

with irritating precision. I groaned and rolled over, squinting at my

phone. 7:15 AM. Despite getting home late, my body had decided that

five hours of sleep was plenty.

“Today’s the day,” I muttered to myself, sitting up slowly to avoid

triggering the morning sickness that had become my daily

companion. Today was when Sebastien and I had agreed to formally

end our cooling period and file the paperwork to dissolve our mating

bond.

I stood in front of my closet, deliberating longer than necessary over

what to wear. What exactly was the appropriate outfit for finalizing a

divorce from a man who never really wanted you in the first place?

“Something dignified,” I decided, pulling out a navy pantsuit that

skimmed over my still–flat stomach. I paired it with a cream blouse

and minimal makeup. If this was going to be the end, I wanted to face

it with composure and self–respect.

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Downstairs, I stepped out of my building and into the crisp morning

air. The sun was bright but provided little warmth–much like my

marriage, I thought bitterly. I pulled out my phone and dialed

Sebastien’s number, bracing myself for his cold voice.

The phone rang once, twice, three times, before switching to

voicemail. A robotic female voice informed me: “The person you are

trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone.”

I hung up without leaving a message, frustration building in my

chest. Was he screening my calls now?

I tried again. Same result.

“Seriously?” I muttered, redialing a third time as I paced in front of

the building. “You’re going to ghost me today of all days?”

Still no answer. After the fifth attempt, I shoved my phone back into

my purse, fighting the urge to throw it against the nearest wall.

“Just perfect,” I said to the empty air. “So much for being a man of

your word, Sebastien Grey.”

I thought back to last night, to his face when I’d thrown the ring at him. Had I really expected him to handle this maturely? Experience should have taught me better by now.