Mr billionaire's regret chasing his irresistible wife by Gabby Emmanuel

Discovery and regret

(JARED'S POV)

closer to understanding what I had lost.

Her name, in her handwriting. Keeping a diary? This is too old-shool, just what Arielle would do. How could I never realize she had this habit? My pulse quickened as I skimmed through the next few pages, my eyes searching for anything-anything that would bring me I came upon an entry, and the words on the page seemed to leap out at me.

"I discovered I was pregnant today. I've been having the symptoms, so I went to see a doctor. It's confirmed, I'm going to be a mother! I can't wait to tell Jared... he's going to be so happy."

The excitement in her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I could almost hear her voice in my head, the same way she used to look at me with that hopeful smile. My hands tightened around the diary as my chest constricted painfully. Our child.

I flipped to the next page, my eyes scanning the next entry.

"I was going to break the news to Jared tonight at our anniversary dinner, but he left on a work call and hasn't come back yet."

I paused, my breath catching in my throat. That night... I remembered it. I had left her, abandoned her at that dinner, not for work, but because Sofia had called me from the airport, and I'd rushed to her side. I didn't even think about what Arielle had planned. Didn't think about her at all. My jaw clenched. I always thought...we had time.

than the last. The entries were raw, filled with Arielle's pain, but not the jealousy I would have expected. No, it was worse-so much

had slowly crumbled while I was too wrapped up in Sofia's mess to even notice. Back then, I never

back. It feels like he's slipping away

anger that spilled from the pages-it was sorrow. Quiet, relentless sorrow. Arielle wasn't fighting for control. She was fighting not to lose everything we had built, to not be forgotten. I continued reading, each

left again. I just... I can't bring myself to tell him now. Not when he's

I can trust him anymore. I love

winced at that line, a

I remembered that fake kiss. It hadn't meant anything to me at the time, but to Arielle, it had meant

in ways I hadn't even

managed to read through more pages until I

turned to was torn, jagged edges left behind where words had once been. My heart sank at the thought of what she had written and why she'd torn it out. What was too painful for even

I pressed my fingers lightly against the next blank page, noticing faint impressions left

was barely visible, but as I angled the diary toward

I slowly pieced together