Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 194

Lennon gently smoothed her unruly hair back into place.

"If you don't feel like going back just yet, Mrs. Crestwell, we could take a walk by the lake instead. Fresh air might do us good."

The suggestion landed right where Seren's heart ached most, and she agreed without hesitation.

"That sounds nice. I was just thinking I could use a walk."

Duskwood Gardens was prepared for nighttime strolls—each guest was given an old-fashioned lantern to carry, its warm amber glow perfectly suiting the mood, as if they were characters in some storybook, wandering by candlelight.

It was chilly on the hillside after dark, and hardly anyone else was out by the lake.

They walked side by side at an unhurried pace, their shadows stretching long and thin on the path beneath the lamps.

A low mist crept in as the night deepened, and the sky was a smudged, colorless curtain—no moon, no stars in sight.

Seren watched the rippling reflection of the trees in the lake for a while, then let her gaze drift to the shifting shadows on the ground.

At last, she couldn't help but glance sideways. The soft golden light caught every detail: Lennon's face, striking and clear, as if painted by a master's hand.

His brows were dark and elegant, his eyes bright as stars, his features so perfectly formed it was almost unreal—gentle, refined, as if he'd walked straight out of a dream.

She'd seen him countless times, and yet, each time still managed to take her breath away.

As they walked, Lennon spoke up unexpectedly. "Tomorrow, someone will come by to take your measurements. We'll need new outfits for the wedding."

"Outfits? Isn't the dress from last time enough?"

Lennon glanced at her, his eyes steady and searching. "Do you like the wedding dress?"

Seren shook her head. "Not really. It's just… that's what everyone else does."

In Seaside City, Western-style weddings had become the norm—simple, elegant, efficient. Everything done in a day.

It all seemed fine, really, except that it didn't feel like her.

Once, she'd overheard Sheridan complaining that she was too proper—so proper it bordered on rigid. Not playful, not delicate—not "womanly." Being together felt more like living with a brother under the same roof than a couple. In fact, Sheridan got along better with his own friends.

These were thoughts she kept to herself. She knew what to share, and what to leave unsaid.

Lennon reached over and patted her head. "Everyone's different. There's no one right way to be. As for me, I happen to like your kind just fine—not especially playful, not especially fragile, but gentle, composed, and talented. If being bold is needed, I can handle that part. You just be yourself, Mrs. Crestwell. Any more perfect, and I'd start to worry I don't deserve you."

His words, warm and soft, sank deep into Seren's heart, leaving her a little dazed.

All this time, she'd thought being liked meant changing herself to fit someone else's mold. But now, for the first time, she realized that being loved didn't need to be so exhausting—

She could simply be herself. No acting, no pretending.

The night grew deeper around them. Suddenly, Lennon stopped, his lashes casting shadows as he looked at her with quiet seriousness.

"You've asked me so many questions, Mrs. Crestwell. Now, I'd like to ask you one."