บททั้งหมดของ The Bad Boy’s Regret: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

MONICA Julian and I watched Dominic again, the way his smile faltered when Julian didn’t look back this time, and Julian’s voice went quiet. “I think I’ve been waiting for him to be braver than he is.”“That’s not your job,” I said. “You don’t shrink so someone else can feel big.”He smiled at that, real this time, and bumped his shoulder against mine. “Since when did you get so wise.”“Since my life became a mess,” I said dryly. He laughed, then sobered, glancing past me. “Then there’s Gabriel.”My stomach flipped. “What about him.” Julian studied me like I was a math problem he didn’t like the answer to. “He’ll always be there for you.”I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, my shoulders slumping. “…Yeah,” I said, the word coming out heavier than it should’ve. “Gabriel.”Julian tilted his head. “That didn’t sound convincing.”“Because nothing is convincing right now,” I admitted. “Everything feels wrong, even when it feels good.”He reached out, squeezing my hand. “Just

MONICA Gabriel’s eyes darkened, not drunk-dark, not lust-dark—something fractured. Like a mirror hit from the inside. He pushed off the door slowly, the sound of his boots against the carpet too loud in the quiet room.“We won’t talk,” he said. “That’s fine.”My pulse kicked up hard as I suddenly sensed danger. “Gabriel,” I said, backing up until the bed pressed against the backs of my knees. “Why... why am I so hot suddenly.”“Because I drugged your water love”“What?” He didn’t touch me. But the space between us shrank until it felt like the walls were closing in, until the room forgot how to breathe.“You don’t get it,” he said, angry and unraveling. “I’ve been holding myself back for months. Watching you choose him. I thought we were making progress at the party after you willingly kissed me but.... it was because he was there wasn't it? It was to make him jealous... wasnt it? Why do you love him Monica. Is it the sex? That's why my love doesn't matter to you.”I shook my head. “

GABRIEL I stayed out of school for days like the building had burned down and taken my name with it. Like if I stepped foot on that campus the walls would start whispering, the lockers would laugh, the air itself would remind me of everything I let slip through my fingers. I ignored my phone until it died and then ignored it some more, ignored texts, ignored calls, ignored the version of myself that used to smirk at mirrors like I owned the world. All I did was work out. Morning, noon, night. I always had my gloves on and my music was always loud. Head always down. If my body was screaming, then my head stayed quiet, and that was the only peace I could get. My mum hovered. She always did when things got too quiet. She’d stand by the doorway pretending not to watch me, pretending she wasn’t counting my reps, pretending she didn’t notice the way I didn’t look at her anymore. “Gabriel,” she said for the third time that morning, voice tight and worried, soft in that way that always c

MONICAI wake up slowly. It felt like my body doesn’t trust the day yet, like it’s testing the air before letting me fully back in, and the first thing that hits me isn’t light or sound but feeling. I felt raw, tender, everywhere, the kind of soreness that doesn’t scream pain but whispers memory, and that whisper is Damian, his mouth, his hands, the way he stayed when everything else in me was falling apart. I remembered the heat, the lust, the hunger that almost drove me mad and I groan softly.I pressed my face into the pillow because God, my body remembers before my head can catch up.Then the shame rolls in, thick and heavy, not sharp, not violent, just… suffocating, because I don’t regret him, not even a little, and that’s the worst part, because if I regretted it maybe this would be easier, maybe I could just box it up and label it mistake and move on, but I can’t, because tangled is the only word that fits, tangled feelings, tangled loyalties, tangled guilt that keeps tighteni

MONICAI freeze the second Zoey’s voice hits my ears, that fake slow drawl like she’s savoring every syllable, and the girls around her laugh on cue, not even trying to hide it.Their lockers slammed shut like punctuation marks to her words, and my stomach drops because I knew this was coming, I felt it crawling up my spine the moment I stepped into the locker room and smelled cheap perfume, chlorine and attitude.“Well well…” Zoey repeats, circling closer, her eyes dragging over me like she’s inspecting damage. “If it isn’t Havenstone’s favorite whore.”I swallow, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag, and I tell myself not to react, because reacting is what she feeds on, but my body never listens to logic when she’s around. “Move,” I say, keeping my voice flat, calm, boring. “I’ve got class.”She laughs, throwing her head back like I’ve just told the best joke of her life. “Wow,” she says, clapping once more. “Hear that, girls? The janitors daughter has got important plac