Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire’s Regret; His Crippled Ex- Wife: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Chapter One The rain outside was falling hard against the tall windows of our bedroom, but inside, the sound that terrified me most was the sharp click of metal. I sat at the edge of the king-sized bed, my fingers tightly clutching the fabric of my long, thick sweatpants. Across the room, my husband, Julian, was holding a screwdriver. He had just finished reattaching the sharp steel handles to the bedside drawers. "Julian, please," I whispered. My voice was raspy, trembling slightly despite my best efforts to hold it steady. "You removed those handles three years ago so I wouldn't cut myself when I had panic attacks. Why are you putting them back now?" Julian didn't look at me right away. He calmly tightened the last screw, wiped his hands on a clean white towel, and finally turned around. He looked as handsome and composed as always, dressed in a sharp navy suit. But his eyes, which used to look at me with warm worry, were cool and detached. "Chloe explained it to me last night, E

Chapter ThreeOne week later, the rain finally stopped. Sarah helped me set up a quiet, elegant private exhibition at her art gallery. We invited old professors, university friends, and respected figures in the city's design community.I wore a silver-grey silk dress. I didn't hide my limp; I walked slowly and with dignity, using a slender carved wooden cane.When I walked into the gallery, Professor Harrison was already there, looking at my detailed blueprints of the Zurich library project. "Eleanor!" Professor Harrison’s face lit up with a warm smile. He walked over and took my hand. "My girl, I knew you hadn't lost your touch. These designs are brilliant!""Thank you, Professor," I smiled. "It feels good to hold a pencil again.""You should have never stopped," a familiar voice rang out. I turned and saw Director Evans walking toward us. He looked surprised to see me standing tall and confident, surrounded by respected architects. His eyes swept over my blueprints, and a look of

Chapter Five The cushioned corners of the coffee table were the first things I set my eyes on every morning. Those corners were covered in thick brown foam, like the one used for toddlers learning to walk in an environment replete with sharp glass and marble. But this was not done to cater for children since there were none in the house. There was only me. I sat on the edge of our expensive Italian leader chair, while my left leg was extended out on the velvet stool. Looking outside through the tall glass windows, the city was active in a haze of morning fog and distant traffic hums. Looking down from the sixty-fifth floor, the cars outside looked very tiny like the size of a cockroach crawling around in a dark place. Three years ago, I used to study those streets, see grid systems, and structural designs. This is because I used to be an architect. Unfortunately now, I remained a full time patient in a sanctuary established by my husband out of guilt. While sitting there on t

Chapter seven The housekeeper, Betty, arrived precisely at eight o'clock. She was a kind and considerate woman in her late fifties with soft gray hair pinned into a neat bun and eyes that always carried a hint of motherly concern whenever they rested on me. "Good morning, Miss Eleanor," Betty said as she put her heavy canvas bag down by the entryway bench. She always called me Miss Eleanor, a gentle habit she adopted and couldn't break even after Julian and I had married. "How is the leg treating you today? I saw the dark clouds rolling in over the bay this morning." I pushed the heavy wool blanket off my lap, revealing the gray compression sleeve I had managed to pull over my leg after removing the ice pack. "It’s about the same as usual, Betty. A bit tight because of the barometric pressure, but I’m managing." "You shouldn't be managing alone," Betty chided softly as she walked into the kitchen, tying a smooth white apron around her waist. "Mr. Julian left strict in

Chapter Nine "Miss Eleanor? Miss Eleanor, are you alright?"Betty’s voice shattered the memory, pulling me violently back into the present. I nearly froze.“Hmmmmm…” I muttered, trying to gather myself together.Betty was standing beside me, a look of deep worry showed on her face, her hand hovering near my shoulder."You went completely pale, dear," Betty said softly, taking a paper napkin and dabbing at the bead of cold sweat that had formed on my forehead. "You were staring out at the rain. Was it... was it the memory again?"I swallowed hard, forcing my fingers to relax their grip on the cane I was holding. "I'm sorry, Betty. Yes. The rain always brings it back.""Oh, you poor thing," Betty sighed, shaking her head as she pushed the bowl of steel-cut oats closer to me. "It's no wonder you have panic attacks when it storms. What you went through... it’s a miracle either of you survived that dreadful night.""Sometimes," I whispered, looking down at the warm bowl of oats, "I won