Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 199

Early the next morning.

Seren was woken by the birdsong drifting in through the window. She opened her eyes to find Lennon still asleep beside her.

His face was calm and refined, a quiet elegance in his features.

For a moment, Seren just watched him.

When she was younger, she'd always had a thing for boys in crisp white shirts—clean, fresh-faced, with an easy charm. Back then, she'd been oddly fixated on white shirts, as if they held some secret promise.

Now, though, she wasn't sure if it was age, or if Sheridan had cured her of that particular infatuation. The allure of white shirts simply didn't hold her the way it once had.

Instead, she found herself drawn to men like Lennon—men who favored black shirts, who exuded a sense of maturity and quiet confidence. Men who had shed the recklessness of youth, who were steady and kind, the sort who'd make good husbands for the Crestwell family.

Lennon had always been the picture of warmth and courtesy, never the type to overstep boundaries or act impulsively.

With him, Seren was often reminded of that old saying: "Once upon a time, life moved slowly, and there was only ever enough love for one person in a lifetime."

Her thoughts were broken by the buzz of her phone on the nightstand. Seren reached for it—Nadine had sent her a message.

[The hospital just called an emergency meeting. Michael and I are there now. Sorry for the short notice, we didn't have time to let you guys know.]

[What about Jasper? Did he head down the mountain with you?]

[Jasper slipped away last night. Said there was some urgent business at home. You and Lennon enjoy your couple's getaway—no one's around to play third wheel now.]

[Alright, alright, go focus on your meeting.]

[Seren, you're really in love this time, huh? You used to just ignore my texts, now you're practically kicking me off to my meetings.]

[Okay, okay, I'll stop teasing. Really have to go now.]

When Seren put her phone down, Lennon was already awake beside her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Crestwell."

"Morning," she replied.

As she brushed her teeth, another thought came to her: Lennon's voice, rough and husky from sleep, had a magnetic quality that was just ridiculously attractive.

The moment she realized she was thinking this, Seren pressed her hands to her face, embarrassed by how far gone she was.

It wasn't just his looks she was swooning over—now even the sound of his voice could make her heart race.

When she finished getting ready and stepped back into the bedroom, Lennon was dressing.

He'd just taken off his pajamas; his upper body was bare, muscles sculpted and lean, his back defined by smooth lines, shoulders broad, waist narrow, legs long and athletic—a perfect build, whether clothed or not.

He looked slim in his shirt, but with it off, he was all quietly defined strength. The kind of body that made any outfit look good—though, honestly, he looked even better without one.

Seren's gaze lingered helplessly as Lennon pulled on a white shirt that morning.

The mountain air was dry and cold, making her skin feel tight after she washed her face.

She sat at her vanity, patting moisturizer onto her cheeks as usual, but found her eyes wandering back to Lennon, unable to help herself.