The Billionaire's Regret After I Died
She doesn’t mean it.
But another voice inside whispered cruelly: Maybe she’s right.
I had gained so much weight these past few years, ever since Adrian had asked me to help develop the dessert line for his hotel restaurants. I used to take pride in tasting every new flavor myself, perfecting the texture, the aroma, the sweetness.
But somewhere along the way, the joy faded, and the scale crept up. Ten pounds. Then twenty. Then more.
And Adrian’s gaze, once indifferent, turned distant.