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Chapter 56: Leaving
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2024-07-02 08:05:01The sky had darkened considerably, the last rays of sunlight giving way to the inky blackness of night. A cold wind swept through the deserted road, sending chills down my spine.
Despite the situation, an instinct for survival kicked in. I knew I couldn't stay there, exposed and vulnerable. Taking a shaky breath, I pushed myself to my feet and started walking. The road ahead was covered in darkness, but it was the only path I had. As I stumbled along, I raised a hand in a futile attempt to flag down passing cars, each one ignored. Night had completely fallen by the time I finally saw headlights way in the distance, getting bigger and brighter. Hope and fear battled each other in my chest. This had to work. I had to do something. Taking a deep breath, I clenched my fists and stepped right into the middle of the road, squeezing my eyes shut tight. This was it. Whatever happened next, I couldn't take it anymore. With all the strength I had left, I screame
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Without thinking, I opened my door again and rushed over.“Regan?” I called, pulling open his car door.He looked up, startled — pale as a sheet, sweat still clinging to his forehead. His eyes widened at the sight of me, then softened almost immediately.“You should go,” he murmured, voice faint.“Are you okay?” I asked again, this time with sharper emphasis.“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” he insisted, but the words barely carried any strength.“Don’t lie to me!” I snapped, the worry spilling into anger. “You look like you’re about to collapse!”And then—he smiled. Of all things, he smiled. Without saying another word, he reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a small vial and syringe. My heart stopped as he calmly rolled up his sleeve.“What the hell are you doing?!” I shouted, stepping closer.He chuckled weakly, the sound breaking in his throat. “Relax. It’s for my stomach,” he said, his grin tilting slightly. “I can’t eat too much.”I froze. The words hit harder than I expect
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 227: Where Would You Go?
By the fifth, he was slower—more deliberate—but he didn’t stop until the plate was empty.He hesitated, then asked, “What’s the first thing you do when you wake up now?”I frowned slightly at the unexpected question. “Check my messages. Drink coffee. Why?”He shrugged weakly. “Just trying to picture… what your mornings are like.”My lips parted, but I didn’t answer. Instead, I motioned toward the next plate. He obeyed. By the next dish, his jaw was tight, his hands slightly trembling as he cut through the food. I noticed it—but he didn’t complain.He took a slow breath, his voice low and hesitant. “Do you still stay up late… staring at the stars?”I froze, my wine glass halfway to my lips. “What?”“You used to say the sky made you feel small in a good way,” he said, gaze softening. “Like the world was still bigger than you.”My chest tightened, completely caught off guard. I cleared my throat. “Yeah…I-I still did”He gave a small nod, a ghost of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 226: A Plate For A Question
“Next time,” I said finally, forcing a calm tone, “try not to get punched in the face for it.”That made him chuckle under his breath — a low, quiet sound that almost made me smile too. Almost. I kept my eyes on the stars instead, pretending to be completely unbothered, even though my pulse was far from calm.He was still watching me. I could feel it — that searching gaze. And no matter how much I tried to act cool, a part of me still remembered what it felt like when he leaned on my shoulder in the rain.And I hated that it still mattered.Regan cleared his throat softly, as if gathering courage to start. “So—”“I want to order more,” I interrupted, setting my wine glass down.He blinked, startled. “More?”“Yes.” I waved to the waitress. “Can I have the menu again, please?”The waitress nodded quickly, handing it to me. I scanned the list, pretending to be deeply invested, even though I could feel Regan watching me curiously.When she came back, I smiled sweetly and said, “All of the
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 225: Date?
Anastasia’s POVIt was exactly seven in the evening when I got out of my car, the glow of city lights reflecting off the glass windows of the high-end restaurant in front of me.I smoothed the sides of my long beige dress — soft satin that shimmered subtly under the lamps — paired with nude heels and a thin shawl draped around my shoulders. My hair was down, slightly curled, brushing against my collarbone.After the commotion at home two days ago, I decided to just go along with the deal. Maybe because I knew I was partly to blame for it too. Maybe because I was tired of running.As soon as I stepped inside, a staff member greeted me with a polite bow and led me through the softly lit hall to a private room. My heart thudded quietly with every step, each one echoing louder than the last.When the door opened, I froze for half a second.Regan was already there.He was seated near the balcony, the city skyline behind him like a painting. He wore a black suit — tailored, crisp — and some
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 224: I Don't Have One
“You with Elaine tonight?” I asked, breaking the silence.Paul shook his head. “Nah. She’s out with her friends. Some dinner thing.”I nodded. Paul — the good uncle to Ethan, the one-year-married cousin who somehow made love look easy. He had the life I used to imagine for myself. Before everything cracked.He tapped the bar with his knuckle. “You think it will be worth it in the end?”“She didn’t ask me to come,” I said. “She didn’t ask me to stay away either.”Paul frowned. “That’s not an answer.”I turned to him, finally meeting his eyes. “I don’t have one. I don’t know either, Paul but I am hoping it is. God, I hope it is”He leaned back, watching me like he was trying to figure out if I’d completely lost it. Maybe I had.“Look,” he said, softer now. “I get it. You love her. But showing up like that? It’s not romantic, Regan. It’s reckless.”I didn’t respond. I just stared at the rain streaking down the window, remembering the way it felt on my skin when she looked at me — really
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 223: Bruises
Regan’s POVI came back from the bathroom; the paper towels were still damp in my hands. The mirror had shown me everything I already felt — the split lip, the bruised cheekbone, the dried blood trailing from my eyebrow. My white polo clung to me, stiff with rain and sweat. I buttoned it up anyway. Didn’t matter how I looked. I was already past the point of caring.The bartender didn’t say a word when I sat down. Just slid the glass toward me, his eyes lingering on my face for a second too long. I’ve been a regular here for the last seven years. He’d seen me in worse states — drunk, broken, silent — but this was different.“Your drink, Mr. Del Valle,” he said.“Thanks.”I took the glass and let the whiskey burn its way down. But it wasn’t enough. Not enough to drown out the ache in my cheek or the throb in my ribs. I sat at the far end of the bar. The rain outside hadn’t stopped.The door creaked open behind me. Someone called my name — breathless, panting like he’d run the whole way.
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