Ignore Hubby And Son's Regret, Shining Now Mga Nobela at Kwento

His father died a miserable death, his son was in a coma, and the Quinn family was shattered, leaving only Simon behind to finally realize all his mistakes. However, it was too late. Harrison could not come back to life, the Quinn family could not be whole again, and Stephen could not recover. Simon would forever be haunted by pain, despair, and regret for the rest of his life.

Now he’s just… there. I scrolled until my eyes burned. He’d lost the thing that made him shine. The arm. The spotlight. The certainty that the world would always bend for him. I should have felt something clean—relief, maybe. Vindication. He’d walked away from us to chase that shine, and now it was fading. Karma, in neat black-and-white. Instead I felt… nothing sharp. Just a dull, complicated ache. The kids still asked about him. Shayla more than the others. She kept the old photo of the four of us on her dresser—the one taken at the lake house the summer before everything cracked. Sometimes she’d trace his face with her finger and ask, “When is Daddy coming home?”

The way I used to shrink myself to nothing just to earn a scrap of his approval. By the time we reached the main gates, my legs were shaking. Martha helped me inside while Silas barked orders for the wounded to be taken to the medical wing—the same wing I had helped stock. Later that evening, after a long bath that eased some of the aches, I sat by the window in my room with a cup of herbal tea. The baby had settled, but my mind hadn’t. Another flash hit me hard: Nadia and an elder in the garage, whispering about “making sure the stray doesn’t complicate the lineage.” The memory carried the scent of oil and betrayal.

“Pregnant for a Silverwood.” Ross’s laughter rolled over the room like poison. “See? It’s fate. The Silverwoods aren’t taking from you, Payne. We’re becoming you. Slowly. Piece by piece. Your wife…” He let his gaze slide toward Bridgette, who flinched. “…Your company. Your daughter. Your grandchild. Tell me, what’s left of you now?” “Shut up!” Payne roared, lunging again, but Trent stepped between them this time, protective.

"Baby, you promised you'd own up to us. You said you'd give me a real place in your life." "I don't want to do this in the shadows anymore. I want to be with you out in the open." The string of messages made me wince. I scrolled all the way down and found a photo attached at the bottom. He was still sleepy, just out of bed. His robe hung half-open, the ridges of his abs catching the light in a way that could've stopped traffic. The sheer pull of it hit me before I could brace for it. Heat crawled up my face. I caught Lucas's eyes flicking toward me and quickly killed the screen, bowing my head over my bowl and avoiding his gaze.

“Miss Xavier! Your father suddenly fell ill and fainted in prison. The prison does not allow medical parole. We need the help of Mr. Leonardo!" His words knocked the strength out of my legs. I turned around and saw Derek staring at me with a straightforward and somewhat cruel look. Mr. Grey’s voice was loud enough for him to hear. I recognized the look in his eyes and it wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking: go on, beg me to save your father

From that moment on, I severed all ties— With the Moonshadow Pack. With Carlson Green. And with that past filled with pain and betrayal. Forever.

But there was just this heavy numbness that made it hard to even think straight. My phone buzzed on the coffee table, lighting up with a notification. I didn't want to talk to anybody right now. I sighed and leaned over to grab it. It was a photo from Ava. How did she even get my number? I stared at it for a moment. It was Sebastian, holding a pair of scissors, his face all serious and focused as he cut the umbilical cord for Ava’s baby. He looked... I don’t know, gentle, I guess. Almost like the Seb I used to know. I kept waiting for some big emotion to hit me, jealousy, heartbreak, anger, but there was nothing.

Ethan murmured, wiping my cheek with his thumb. “Shut up. You’re crying too.” He was. We both were, holding hands in the darkness while our life together played out in front of our families. I wanted to pause time right there and freeze us in that perfect minute where everything was still whole. Suddenly, the music stopped. And the next photo that appeared on screen made my brain to stop working for a minute. It was me. My face staring back at myself, my body on full display.

"Clara, I don't think I can stay in the shadows anymore. I hurt you, I know. And the heavens know that I regret it to this day, but I'm trying to make it right. It's harder with you being this way. I'm wary! I'm exhausted, too, Clara. I want to do this the right way if you'll help me. If you don't, I can't fight this fight too. I want to be a part of my daughter's life. One way, or the other. Being the background picture...just isn't enough for me." I released a shuddered gasp. His response came with needles that sank into my skin with vigor, their movement void of grace or mercy. And my eyes were pooled with tears already. I finally turned to Gerald. "You...what?" Voice barely above a whisp