Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 66

"Alright, Grandpa."

Seren couldn't refuse Old Mr. Rutledge's insistence, so she finally agreed.

"Oh, and remember last time I said I'd check the dates for you and Lennon? Well, I've found the perfect one—next month on the 15th. It's a lucky day."

He paused, then added, "Talk it over with Lennon, though. Even if it's an auspicious date, it still needs to work for you both."

"Okay."

Just as Seren ended the call, she received a notification—Old Mr. Rutledge had returned her bank transfer.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a WhatsApp message from Lennon.

[Have you eaten?]

[Not yet.]

[Are you done with work?]

[Yeah! I'm free these next few days.]

[Perfect. I've just wrapped up, too. After lunch, let's go take our wedding photos.]

Seren stared at the words "wedding photos" on her screen, momentarily stunned.

There's a certain anticipation every woman feels about wedding photos—an unspoken, almost magical longing. Seren was no exception.

Three years ago, when Sheridan lost the use of his legs, there was no wedding, no marriage certificate, and certainly no wedding photos.

She'd felt a pang of regret back then—a woman's simple yearning for that one perfect moment in a white dress, captured forever.

She'd convinced herself she'd never have the chance.

Now, with Lennon bringing it up so matter-of-factly, she felt a brief wave of disbelief, quickly replaced by a surge of excitement.

Once the excitement settled, reality crept in—Lennon had been busy these past two days.

She hesitated, then typed her reply.

[Are you sure it won't take too much of your time?]

[Not at all. You said you'd finish work today, so I pushed myself these last couple of days just to free up time for us.]

Seren stared at Lennon's message for a long time.

So that's why he'd left early every morning—working hard to clear his schedule, just to be there with her for their wedding photos.

She wasn't used to being someone's priority. Each time Lennon put her first, it left her quietly, deeply moved.

After lunch, the two of them strolled ten minutes down the street to a bridal boutique.

Without missing a beat, Lennon slipped his arm through Seren's, pride clear in his eyes.

"Thank you. I think my wife is stunning, too."

Seren flushed, caught off guard. Most people would protest or deflect the praise, wouldn't they?

Iris gave a gentle, envious smile. "You two make a lovely couple."

Then she turned to Seren. "Mrs. Crestwell, with your tight schedule, we won't have time for a fully custom gown. Would you mind choosing from our current collection?"

Seren shook her head. "I don't mind at all."

A ready-made gown wasn't much different from a custom one, and she wasn't the type to fuss over details.

Iris's smile was gracious. "Wonderful. Let's head upstairs—I have one dress in particular that I think would suit you perfectly."

They climbed the stairs and walked down the corridor to a room at the end.

In the center stood a glass display case. Inside, a gown rested on a mannequin.

Seren looked up.

It was a deep blue wedding dress—elegant, bold, with a sweeping train.

Under the bright lights, the gown shimmered with countless tiny stars, as if the entire Milky Way had been woven into its fabric. In that moment, even the light itself seemed to pale beside it.