My Billionaire Ex's Biggest Regret のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

Rita remained in the same position since Chris left the apartment. She was curled up on the other end of the couch, a throw blanket wrapped around her chest, but the warmth remained elusive. Her eyes gazed at the wall, empty and unfocused. The stillness of the room deafened louder than any argument would.She gasped in short bursts. Her world—her nicely ordered world—was unraveling again, and this time there was no script to follow. No refined trick of the courtroom or loophole of the law that would legitimize this pain and make sense of it. Her heart hurt against her rib cage, not with anger but with an aching emptiness. The kind that was like someone put their hand in and pulled out a piece of her and just walked away with it—again.She did not even try to blink the tears away when they appeared. They fell one by one down her cheeks like small deceptions. She was furious. She hated crying. Hated the helplessness of it. She scrubbed at her cheeks with a rough wipe, grinding her jaw.

Adrian walked ahead of them down the stairs with a self-assured stride, his taut suit whooshing over him with a gentle, silken texture, his lips twisted into a sneer as he glanced back over his shoulder at Kelvin. "Back in a minute. Hold things together for me," he mocked with a playful wink, already halfway down. Kelvin nodded merely, his eyes tracing the path Adrian had left behind. He witnessed how the usual haughtiness in Adrian's demeanor unfolded step by step, indifferent to the building tension, and would ultimately spoil the day.The payphone booth was an anachronism tucked behind the front desk, for those guests who still used coins and calls instead of messages and emails. As Adrian shut the door, Kelvin's gut clenched over nothing he could think of. Something about the entire moment seemed off-center, even if he couldn't quite articulate it as such. He shifted in his seat, trying to get the creeping agita out of his system.Minutes passed. Then more minutes.Kelvin's

The words stayed with her days afterward—words she had never wanted, acts she had never provoked. Chris. The kiss. The betrayal.Lilian sat alone in the far corner of the crowded coffee shop, her tightly gripped fingers around the warm ceramic mug, although the tea within had long since cooled.She did not drink—she didn't want to—and needed something stronger than chamomile to put on top of the confusion swirling relentlessly in her brain. The calming jazz drifting from the speakers above did no good, and the hum of conversation all around her was nothing but noise.Chris had kissed her.Uninvited. Unexplained. Unexpected.And Rita hated her more than ever now.That kiss had been a fire to parched tinder, and now it was all smoldering—her conscience, her dignity, her silence.What did he think?Was he trying to wreck whatever fragile peace she'd managed to cobble together since the divorce? Or punishing her? Or worse, punishing Rita by using her in whatever trouble he was in?Chris h

Lilian flipped her phone to silent and resumed cleaning the coffee table. It was all routine—the soft scrape of the cloth, the glaze on the surface in the afternoon light. It reminded her that she was once again strong, with or without the creases in her heart.Then Doris's name came up on the screen. Her half-apology for the recession and her obstinate loyalty still stung, so much so that Lilian nearly hung up."Hi," she said, her tone icy as steel."I'm sorry, Lilian. I went over the line," was Doris's apology, filled with regret.Lilian waited but said nothing."You were right. You owe Kelvin nothing. Not after all the cruelty over the years, all the years of torment. I love him, but my love does not excuse cruelty. I never wanted to hurt you—or lose you." Doris's voice shook under its burden.The phrase "lose you" had shattered years of armor. Walking into cold air, Lilian whispered, "I get it. I do. But I'm tired—tired of being all wound up in their anger. I don't want more guilt

The incessant ringing of the doorbell attested to the inactivity of Mike Freeway's apartment. He mopped his sweating brow with the edge of his robe as he looked in the direction of the door, nervously. The police cars had arrived only a couple of minutes beforehand, and he knew that the officers would be ringing any moment.Damn it," he cursed through his teeth. What had happened up there? He'd felt the rushing of feet, the muffling, and then the cold silence after that. All the fibers were screaming murder, but he refused to let himself say it. Not now, not when he'd nearly made it vanish, to become transparent and ignored.His gaze roamed over the grimy, dusty room. He had hidden evidence of last night by spilling it into the floor, but the pungent odor of covered-up secrets lingered. None of it had attempted to get out at all.He looked at the dusty cupboard whose battered surface concealed far darker secrets than anyone could ever have imagined. Good that he was aware of the law a