All Chapters of Too Late For Regrets: No Longer Your Invisible Wife: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Ronan's POV. The resort room was quiet except for the soft rustle of our fabric as we both unpacked our bags, Nadia moving around with an easy rhythm as she hung dresses in the wardrobe and folded the rest into neat little stacks. I found myself just watching her for a moment, the way her fingers smoothed each item before setting it down, the small tilt of her shoulders as she worked.I used to know all her habits back in her old apartment. Now I was relearning them, one small movement at a time, and something about that felt oddly precious.I grabbed my own shirt from my bag and started folding it without really thinking about it.Nadia glanced over and caught me mid fold, a small smile pulling at her lips. "Since when do you fold your clothes on trips?""Since you started folding yours just now." I said, and it was the truth. Normally, on a business trip or a quick getaway, I'd just leave everything crumpled in my bag, only bothering to fold things properly if I knew I'd be staying

Nadia's POV. The sand was warm beneath our feet as we walked along the shoreline, the afternoon sun casting a soft golden glow over the water. Ronan's hand stayed wrapped around mine the entire time, our fingers laced together comfortably, like they'd always belonged that way as our other hands held our footwears. "I don't want to hide this anymore," Ronan said suddenly, breaking the easy silence between us.I glanced up at him. "Come on, Ronan.""I mean it, Nadia." He stopped walking, turning to face me fully, his eyes steady and serious in a way that made my breath hitch. "I'm not ashamed of what we have. I want to take you out properly, real dates. I want to hold your hand walking down the street without worrying about who might see us. I want the world to know you're mine again."My heart fluttered wildly at his words, warmth spreading through my chest so fast."I want that too." I said carefully, "but Ronan, think about the timing. We're actively suing those blogs right now for

Nadia's POV.The beach had turned into something of a spectacle that afternoon, a film crew setting up cameras and lighting rigs along the shore for some romantic drama scene, actors running through their lines while a small crowd of curious guests gathered to watch from a respectful distance. Ronan and I had stood off to the side for a while, quietly amused by the number of takes it apparently required just to get one couple to walk hand in hand across the sand convincingly.By the time we made it back to the room, the sun already dipping low, Ronan disappeared into the bathroom for a shower while I settled onto the edge of the bed, finally allowing myself a quiet moment alone.My phone buzzed against the mattress just then.'Nadia? Was that you at the seashore earlier? I'm actually a guest here too!'My heart lurched to see Becky's texts. I stared at the message for a long moment, my mind racing through every possible way to explain this away, though nothing coherent formed fast enou

Simone's POV.I sat in the sitting room that evening, the folder of photographs spread open across the small glass table in front of me, and this time, I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.The last blog had been sloppy work, rushed and traced back easily. This time, I needed a new platform, one where the police wouldn't be able to unravel with a simple background check on some washed up college classmate connection. Plus, it was going to be more fun with a different blog still talking about Nadia like I wanted.I scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I wanted, an editor at one of the larger tabloid networks, someone with an actual reach far beyond that pathetic little gossip site I'd used before. I dialed, keeping my voice smooth and measured the moment the call connected."I have something you're going to want," I said. "Exclusive news with photographs completely undeniable.""I'm listening," the voice on the other end said."Nadia Holt," I said, leaning back

Nadia's POV.  Eli handed me his tablet without a word, and I took it with trembling hands, the screen already open to a scroll of headlines that seemed to stretch endlessly downward. My own face stared back at me from a dozen different angles, the same hallway photo repeated across site after site, each headline more damning than the last.I scrolled further, and the comment sections opened up beneath each article like a floodgate. 'So the affair was real the whole time.' 'These lovers had the audacity to sue people for telling the truth.''Poor Damian, dragged through the mud while his wife was out sneaking around with her ex.''Imagine suing someone for defamation when you're literally doing the exact thing being said about you.'My stomach twisted violently with each comment, humiliation and anger crawling up my throat until I could barely breathe. 'Poor Damian.' this one got to me the most a