Sheridan's expression wavered, caught somewhere between hesitation and guilt. He was afraid that if he refused outright, Willa might burst into tears.
He let the silence stretch, unable to say no, finally mumbling, "Willa, you deserve someone better."
But Willa, ever perceptive, caught the uncertainty in his voice. She slid her arms around Sheridan's neck and pressed her lips to his.
Willa was drunk—unsteady on her feet, she nearly toppled forward. Sheridan didn't dare push her away too abruptly, worried she'd fall.
A flicker of sarcasm flashed in Willa's eyes.
Even as she kissed him, Sheridan's mind was somewhere else—on Seren.
Three years. In all that time, he and Seren had never hugged, never held hands, never even shared a kiss.
His sharpest memory was of the time Seren handed him his medication and, by accident, brushed his hand. She recoiled instantly, frowning as if she'd touched something dirty.
He'd been wheelchair-bound after his accident then—prideful, raw, and hypersensitive.
Those tiny gestures from Seren, those hints of rejection, had wounded his self-esteem. He stopped trying to get close to her.
But after so long living together, he'd noticed: Seren wasn't just distant with him—she was like that with everyone at The Golden Age.
Seren was a cold, untouchable beauty, as aloof as a statue. She was right there, yet always out of reach, never once letting him in.
He recognized this, but could do nothing to change it, so he took his frustration out on her more and more often.
And every outburst only drove her further away.
Finally, Sheridan managed to gently push Willa off him. When she nearly lost her balance, he caught her just in time.
"Willa, that's enough. You're drunk. Let me take you back to Brocade Gardens," he said softly, his tone gentle but unmistakably distant.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Watching You Burn In Regret
Why is it stopped at 69.. please update...
Lovin' this!...