Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 160

His touch was gentle, every movement careful and cherishing.

A quiet warmth curled in Seren's chest.

When Lennon finished drying her hair, he put the hairdryer away in the cabinet. As he turned around, Seren stood behind him.

"Lennon, could you lean down for a second?"

Her voice was soft and trembling, barely above a whisper.

He could guess what she wanted—there was a smile in his eyes as he obediently bent his head toward her.

Seren reached up, her hands resting on the back of his neck. Rising onto her toes, she pressed a light kiss to his lips.

It was nothing more than a gentle brush, over almost before it began.

Lennon's first instinct was to deepen the kiss—his hand started to move to the back of her head, but he let it fall.

He knew she was slow to warm up, and didn't want to rush her or scare her off.

It was her first time, after all. After the kiss, Seren's cheeks were still flushed with heat. She lowered her eyes and spoke quietly, "Lennon, thank you for being so good to me."

Lennon tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You don't have to thank me," he said softly, his tone gentle but carefully measured. "Taking care of Mrs. Crestwell is what any good husband should do."

There was a polite distance in his words—a kind of formal affection between them.

But something stirred in Seren's heart.

She realized she didn't want to keep this polite distance with Lennon any longer.

That sort of careful formality felt cold and remote, as if there were always a wall between them.

She wanted something warmer. She wanted to be close to Lennon, to share in life's burdens and comforts together, to truly belong to one another.

Not for any particular reason.

Just because being truly close meant so much more than simply being courteous.

She wanted to draw nearer to Lennon, not keep him at arm's length.

Perhaps people are always a little greedy, always wanting to take that next step.

Just like she did now, with him.

Afterward, Lennon went to shower. Seren lay on the bed, unable to sleep, waiting for him to return. Only when he came out, wrapping her in his arms, did she finally feel at ease.

There was a quiet reassurance in his embrace.

She realized that as long as Lennon was near, she always felt safe—without even thinking about it.

Maybe it was just the way he was—steady, reliable, someone you could trust completely.

His arms were warm, and Seren couldn't help but snuggle closer, her heart tinged with a gentle sweetness.

Noticing her movement, Lennon pulled her even closer.

Seren didn't argue. She fell into step beside him, sometimes glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

The airport was bustling, people rushing past in every direction.

But Lennon stood out—tall, composed, the very picture of calm confidence.

His features were striking, his demeanor cool and self-assured, as if nothing could catch him off guard.

Mature, reliable, impossible to overlook.

Just the kind of man she liked.

After picking up their boarding passes, Seren followed Lennon toward the lounge.

They hadn't reached it yet when a familiar voice called out behind them.

"Seren!"

There was no mistaking the excitement and joy in that voice, mingled with something more complicated and hard to define.

Seren turned. Not far away, a man with pale skin and a tall, upright posture met her gaze.

There was a sadness in his eyes that she couldn't quite put into words.

It was Sheridan.