Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 158

He still harbored a lingering tenderness for Willa—old affections that refused to fade.

Men, it seems, are often cursed with this weakness: they never truly let go of the one who once captivated their heart. Sheridan was no exception.

Back then, he was so certain Seren was gentle to a fault. Even if displeased, she'd swallow her feelings, never uttering a single complaint. After all, he was the one who had once saved her life; he believed that alone gave him the upper hand, that Seren would always be at his mercy.

But now, in the cold clarity of hindsight, Sheridan realized just how wrong he'd been.

He couldn't control Seren, not even a little. In her eyes, he was utterly dispensable.

Had he not clung to the past and tangled himself up with Willa, Seren would never have left The Golden Age. She never would have left him.

He'd lost Seren—for the sake of an ungrateful Willa.

Regret consumed him.

But Sheridan knew there was no use in regret. It changed nothing. He had no way of finding Seren, no chance to make amends.

A single tear traced a cold line down his cheek as his body slid limply down the wall, surrendering to despair. Knowing the truth so clearly only made the pain sharper, the regret more unbearable.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The phone chimed with an incoming message.

Thankfully, the phone had survived its fall onto the carpet, lying unharmed at Sheridan's feet, screen aglow in the dimness.

With trembling hands, he snatched it up. Disappointment flickered in his eyes when he saw it wasn't Seren's number.

But then, something shifted—a glimmer of hope as he noticed the message came from an unfamiliar sender.

No text, just a photo: Seren's flight itinerary.

Every detail was clear as day. Seren would be on a flight tomorrow at 11 a.m., departing from Riverbend International Airport, bound for Seaside City.

Sheridan called his assistant immediately. "Pick me up at The Golden Age tomorrow morning at seven. No—make it six."

*

The internet was in an uproar, but Seren, at the center of the storm, slept peacefully, blissfully unaware.

When she opened her eyes, the room was shrouded in darkness. For a moment, she was disoriented, still nestled in the softness of a bed. She remembered falling asleep out on the balcony lounge chair—how had she ended up here?

Just then, Lennon's voice cut through the quiet, husky from sleep.

"Rested?"

A sharp swish—the curtains were yanked open.

Darkness gave way to a flood of light, washing the room in bright color. Outside the window, the sun was setting; waves curled silently onto the shore, and the line where sea met sky blazed with the fiery hues of dusk, painting half the heavens crimson.

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