Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 177

Seren walked home, took a shower, dried her hair, and stepped out of the bathroom to find an extra pillow on the bed.

She didn't have to guess—it was Lennon's.

Night had fallen, bringing a subtle chill to the air. Seren switched on the bedside lamp, its soft golden glow filling the room, then slipped beneath the covers.

She hadn't bothered to draw the curtains, so the distant twinkle of lights from the river was still visible, scattered like stars across the water.

Normally, Seren would have fallen asleep the moment her head touched the pillow, but tonight rest eluded her. She tossed and turned, a restless energy stirring inside her for reasons she couldn't quite name.

The door creaked open.

Someone entered, their silhouette blending with the shadows. The faint scent of cedar drifted toward her just as Lennon climbed into bed and slid a warm arm around her.

Suddenly, all the tension melted from her chest, and she realized what had been keeping her awake: she'd been waiting for him.

She looked up. The lamplight washed Lennon's face in a gentle hue, softening the usual coolness in his features and making him seem almost tender.

Usually, sleep would claim her easily in Lennon's arms, but tonight her mind kept circling, thoughts bubbling up like a pot of soup left simmering and untended. No matter how she tried, she couldn't stop replaying one question:

Did Lennon like her, too?

Lennon hadn't moved or spoken—maybe he'd already drifted off. Seren shifted herself carefully.

Then, above her, his voice rumbled, low and a little rough with sleep.

"Can't sleep?"

She murmured a quiet yes.

"What's on your mind?" Lennon's tone was warm, unhurried.

Seren hesitated, then blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I was wondering what I should wear tomorrow. It's the first time I'm meeting your friends, after all. Should I dress a little more formal?"

It wasn't a total lie—she had been worrying about making a good impression. Meeting Lennon's friends felt important.

She felt it best to ask now. If there was someone like that, she'd need to know what they were like—after all, a childhood friend who didn't know her place could be a ticking time bomb in any marriage.

She'd seen it before—Willa was proof enough of that.

Her words came out tentative, but the underlying possessiveness was clear.

Lennon's lips curled into a slight smile, his dark eyes softening as he looked at her.

His little butterfly was finally showing her feelings.

Seren couldn't see Lennon's expression in the dim light, but she heard his quiet laughter.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Crestwell. No childhood sweethearts, no old flames. Even if there were, I'm married now. I'd keep my distance—there's no way I'd let anyone come between us."

Seren blinked, surprised by how simple and certain he made it sound.

Not everyone was like that. If it were Sheridan, she thought, there'd be no end to the ambiguity. That was how things had gotten so tangled between him and Willa—turning what should have been a straightforward relationship into a battlefield between two women.