Lost Me Gained Regret

Chapter 17

Every move felt like a slap across my face. My heart ached with the sting of it. I had played out scenes like that in my head over and over again. Yet, standing in my home, I couldn’t help but feel a chill run down my spine.

“Jane, you’re awake?” Margaret turned to see me and greeted me with a smile, “Come on, try some of Bry’s cooking. It’s to die for.”

With that, she carried a dish to the table, acting every bit the hostess.

I took a deep breath, stepped past her, and asked Bryant straight up, “Why is she here?”

Finishing up in the kitchen, Bryant removed his apron and said coldly, “She’ll be gone after this meal.”

“You want me to leave, huh?” Margaret glared at him.

“Margaret, take the hint! Stop stirring trouble,” Bryant’s tone was icy, his patience wearing thin.

“Whatever,” Margaret muttered and pulled me to join the meal as if the person who had been crying and begging my husband to divorce me wasn’t her and as if she wasn’t the one trying to whisk my husband away

Bryant’s cooking was indeed excellent, a full spread that was a feast for the senses.

hungry, but the baby inside me needed to eat.

did I have to fear if she could shamelessly be my home? So, I sat down

to make conversation.

great. Whenever he’s home, he’s in the kitchen.”

was a lie. But I just wanted to mark my territory

fleeting glance at Bryant. “Never knew you were

shut up when you’re eating?” Bryant scoffed and served

huffed and turned to me, “Do you know why he can cook? I taught him, especially tomato sauce pasta, my favorite. He puts his heart into it! But

knuckles turned white, nails digging into my So, the pasta that I cherished was leftovers

flesh.

him where he learned to cook on our anniversary night, and he zoned out

Chapter 17

whole

he thinking about? Margaret? Or the memories of learning

me. If it weren’t for me, how would you have ended up

didn’t work out, so you thought he’d clean up your mess? Bryant, I didn’t know you had a thing for being a rebound guy and a garbage collector,” I said, my gaze