The Billionaire Regret

ter

ightening tablecloths that already lay smooth, adjusting flowers that gave off a sweetness too sharp for the heaviness in

ily was comin

ssy and dark, their reflections flashing against the stone pillars. Laughter carried ahead of the

stride. His brothers and their wives trailed behind, dressed in elegance, their smiles practiced for the photographs the

luminous, the sort of color that whisp

ether, to avoid the weight of their eyes, their whispers. Yet another part, smaller but stu

unced, I forced mysel

the air shimmered with the scent of roasted meats and wine. Daniel took the head seat, Elizabeth beside him, alre

isolated, as though my very presence mig

d around business, travel, and the season's social gatherings. No one aske

ed too tightly to accept food. My eyes stayed lowered, watching

ugh, calm and measured. "Ther

servants stilled, hands pausing mid-

st cons

imson glow. His eyes swept the table, lingering a heartbeat on his mother,

led," he said. "And soo

acked the air

s father's brows drew together in a faint frown. His mother's eyes

guests were reporters, invited for this moment. Their cameras caught everything, each bur

ablecloth. For one terrifying moment, the room spun

did n

trembling. My heart raced, my blood pounded in my ears, yet I lifted my chi

riosity gleaming like knives. Elizabeth leaned toward Daniel, her smile s

d away, dismissing me entirely. Then I sank slowly back into my chair,

round me. Plates were set and cleared, glasses refilled, conversations sparked and died.

orridor. My reflection in the gilded mirror mocked me: pale skin, hollowed eyes, lips pressed too tightly aga

h tighter than the last. The guest room door close

ight was n

then pushing them further into the open. Online, stories appeared painting me as unfaithful, claiming affairs

of me leaving a car, speaking to a man in a corridor, my expression caught mid-blink. Enough to tw

em, it was too late.

gripping a thick envelope. Without a word, he threw it at me. The photographs spil

to the light. My own face stared back at me, caught in angles tha

per than any shout. "All this time, I thought you weak. But w

arder than the s

g the words out though they broke agai

ithful? Look at you. Look at wha

ing the frame. Silence swelled, bro

through my fingers, slick, impossible to hold. My chest heaved with the effort of ke

urned, but they stayed dr

ir lies pressed heavy on my shoulders. Yet benea

, brand me with shame that was not mine. They could laugh

was n

t y

my lungs. Slowly, I rose. My legs were unsteady, my body weak, but I stood am

still