Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 178

Seren had grown up in the Rutledge family, one of those old-money dynasties where stories of two women locked in fierce battles over a single man were practically the backdrop of every family gathering.

There was a family next door, for instance— the husband had married his wife, then later brought home a mistress, the kind who would never get a proper place at the table. The daily routine in that house was a never-ending war for affection between the wife and the mistress, both women clawing at each other for scraps of attention.

To Seren, marriages like that seemed utterly hollow. She'd always believed that when a man could sit back and watch two women tear each other apart over him, never lifting a finger to intervene, you'd already lost everything there was to lose in that relationship.

Seren was a purist when it came to love. If she couldn't have someone's whole heart, she'd rather have nothing at all. That was why she'd made the firm decision to leave The Golden Age behind.

In the darkness, Lennon reached over and gently ruffled her hair. His fingers slid softly through her curls, and his voice was a warm murmur beside her ear.

"Mrs. Crestwell, if you never talk about what's bothering you, you'll keep thinking about it. You won't just lose sleep tonight— you'll be tossing and turning for nights to come."

Seren froze, blurting out her words before she had time to think.

"How did you know I've been holding something back?"

"Every time you ask a question, Mrs. Crestwell, there's always this long pause— ten, fifteen seconds— like you're weighing whether to say it aloud. If it was really what you wanted to ask, you wouldn't have to think so hard."

It startled her, how easily Lennon saw through her. She felt as if her secrets were transparent in front of him, like she couldn't hide a single thing.

But he was right. If she kept silent about what was gnawing at her, she'd have sleepless nights— not just one, but many. She'd been through that before; back at The Golden Age, insomnia became her constant companion. She'd lie awake, tossing and turning, time dragging until dawn, every minute stretched thin and raw. One bad night, and the next day would be a haze; it seemed like no amount of sleep could ever make up for it.

Finally, she summoned her courage and let the question that had been circling her mind for so long slip out.

"Lennon, do you love me?"

She could feel his gaze on her in the darkness, burning and intense. Reflexively, she ducked her head, cheeks going hot. She had no idea what his answer would be, her nerves twisting, heart beating out of rhythm. Her hands clenched, palms damp with sweat.

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