Too Late For His Regret Now

Chapter 2

Word Count: 624 | Released on: Today at 18:14

rey

It was also where Jeanie stored her out-of-season coats and old luggage.

s to my chest, and wrapped my arms around my legs. My

. Kieran was turning in for the night. A minute later, the m

breath. I stood up. I

room. The air was thick with the scent o

e rushing water masked the sound of

one was tossed careles

rectangle. It looked like

e of the bed. My fingers we

. A short, sharp vibration

my hand back as if the

n the lock screen. The sen

sage preview read: *Goodnight, handsome

pped into a bo

e popped up: *Looking forward

l fitt

ke a serrated knife drag

I reached out and gripped the edge of the heavy o

he shower abru

hammered so violently it hurt. I spun ar

elt like lead. I couldn't move

of the bathroom d

s side of the bed, yanked the heavy duvet over m

out, a towel around his waist,

r the bed. He stopped. He looked at the lump I

is phone, and tapped the screen. A sma

p and even. It was a trick I learned in the foster homes when

. He just reached over and c

. The mattress dipped as Kiera

ons of the mattress. He was typing. He was replying to her, righ

They slid down my nose and soaked silently i

The last shred of warmth I held f

pletely on y

Chapter End

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Too Late For His Regret Now

Luo Jiuyuan Modern

“For three years, I, Aubrey, had poured my heart into serving Kieran and his mother, Jeanie. I cooked, cleaned, and endured Jeanie's sharp insults and Kieran's quiet neglect, all while believing I was his fiancée, building a future for us after sacrificing my own professional dreams. This illusion shattered one night when I overheard Jeanie tell Kieran he needed to marry "Carolina" for her family's money, coldly dismissing me as a "free nanny" and a "temporary substitute." Later, I discovered Kieran's phone, unlocked with the password of our anniversary date, filled with six months of intimate texts from Carolina, plans for a bridal fitting, and a cruel group chat with Jeanie plotting my departure. Lying in bed beside him as he texted his true fiancée, the betrayal was a suffocating weight. The last shred of warmth I held for him vanished, replaced by a cold, metallic resolve. The next morning, I calmly photographed every damning piece of evidence. I dug out my dusty CPA textbooks, wiping away three years of neglect, and registered for the exam I'd abandoned for him. My ambition, long buried alive, was suddenly breathing again. It was time to reclaim my life. I would not just leave; I would dismantle everything they built. Watch me burn this house down.”