From Prison to His Perfect Regret

lie

r in Chapter 1 finally surfaced, a fleeting shadow across his eyes.

asked, his voice laced with feigned hurt,

ore potent weapon than any words. He

ow. "I truly am. I know I messed up. But I was just trying to protect

ection, the automated voice telling me the number was unavailable. I remembered the letters, carefully penned,

f the luxury SUV. "From what, Jasper? From the truth? From the f

said if anyone tied to the company was involved, it would crash. I had to stabilize things. And you... you w

voice flat. "You let me take the fall for yo

e was supposed to fix, but then things escalated." He was tr

, a bitter smile touching my lips. "Never got a single

pany during a critical time." He actually sounded genuine. Or maybe he just genuinely believed his own lies. "I told her to tell everyone I was heartbroken, that

n. She'd always been obsessed with Jasper, with his company, with his success. She'd been my "friend," my

question, a statement. "She blocked every attempt. She mad

is face. "No. Candice wouldn't. She's incredib

bout it, Jasper. Who stood to gain the most from me being out of the picture? Who sud

her presence, even though she wasn't there. He looked like a deer caught in

.. I never

h leather, the scent of expensive car and old betrayal filling my nostrils. "Yo

His perfect facade was cracking, piec

rs. "I booked us a suite at The Plaza. I wan

t our home? The one we built together? The one that's prob

return. I wanted everything to be perfect. A fresh start. This is just temporary. I w

He still didn't get it. He thought money, lavish gestures, and

dscape. My stomach growled, a vulgar reminder of the meager prison fare. Maybe a ste

per tried to make small talk, but I offered only one-word answers, my gaze fixed on the endless stream of city lig

ious visits, rushed to open my door. Jasper was out of the car in an instant, circlin

rman said, his smile wide and genuin

leftover from a life that no longer ex

erjected smoothly, laying a possessive

ers glittered, marble gleamed, and the air smelled of expensive perfume and fresh flowers.

his voice regaining some of its usual swagger. "Th

red greetings. He was putting on a show, for them, and for himself. He wanted everyone to see t

urned to him. "Why aren't we

be perfect for you. A fresh start. And besides," he hesitated, his eyes flickering. "I wanted us to have so

ng my lips. "You mean Candice, Jasper? Is she haunting ou

hen closed it. He had no answer. Because I

eiling windows offering a breathtaking view of Central Park, now dusted with snow. A bo

id, a forced cheer in hi

y lights. It was beautiful. And utterly meanin

sturing to the gleaming dining table. "But I

. "What could possibly

e. Just like I did on our first anniversary." He watched me, sear

ted was a reminder of a time when I had actually lov

asked, my voice flat. "H

me," he said, beaming. "Chef's compliments. I

ratitude, for any sign of the old Ashlie. But she wa

till somehow clinging to me even in

e back shortly." He shed his expensive suit jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt

devoted husband, Mrs. Albert. He told us how much he missed you. And he spent weeks plann

omach. Devoted husband. The irony was a bitter taste in my mouth. He was putting on a s

e devoid of emotion. "

me a glass of sparkling water, the bubbles dancing in the elegant f

n't sure I remembered what it was. I nodded vaguely, just wanting

, a constant hum of resentment that had become my new normal. The thought of Jasper in a chef's apron, meticulously preparing a meal for me, was repulsive. It was a grotesque p