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

The kind of moment she had once dreamt of

(ARIELLE'S POV)

The rest of the dinner passed in an uneasy silence, heavy and suffocating.

I focused on my plate, determined to avoid Jared's gaze and suppress the memories threatening to rise.

It was the scene the warmth of a family dinner, the kind of moment I'd once dreamed of-that had unraveled me. My defenses had cracked under the weight of it. I couldn't let it happen again. I wouldn't.

This should have been a reminder of what I could have had back then and a stark warning of what I now needed to protect.

About twenty minutes later, Jared excused himself, leaving me alone with Maverick.

I stayed, absentmindedly picking at the food as Maverick watched me with his curious, innocent eyes.

"Mom?" His soft voice pulled me from the tangle of my thoughts.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why don't you talk to Daddy?" he asked, his tone careful but direct. "Did I do something wrong? Is it the food? Did it make you unhappy?"

His question hit me like a punch to the gut. I forced a smile, even as my heart ached. "No, sweetheart. Nothing is wrong. Don't think like that. Mommy's just tired from work, that's all."

He studied me for a moment, stealing a glance as though trying to gauge the truth. I couldn't help but smile at his persistence. My boy. The one constant source of joy in my life.

"Alright, dinner's done for you, champ," I said, softening my tone. "Go play with your Legos. Mommy will join you soon."

He beamed at me, nodded, and left the table quietly.

But the silence didn't last.

Jared returned moments later, clearing plates without a word. His presence unsettled me, but his gesture wasn't offensive. It was kind. Maybe too kind.

"You don't have to do that," I said, keeping my tone neutral.

He paused, glancing at me. "Do what?"

I frowned, my patience already worn thin. "This. All of it. The chores, the dinner. None of this is necessary. I have staff for a reason. And if this is some misguided attempt to change my opinion of you, save it. It's not working. It only makes things worse for everyone, especially Maverick."

Jared's jaw tightened. His gaze darkened, a flicker of hurt crossing his face before his voice came, low and restrained. "Is it everyone... or just you?"

a nerve, and I

quiet but sharp. "I made a mistake one I regret every single day. Does that mean

table, my voice trembling as I retorted, "Make him happy? Or make yourself feel better? Where were you for the past three years, Jared? Do

them, my voice rising with the

with regret and something deeper-something

The room grew cold, and I busied myself with the dishes, refusing to look his way. When I finally retreated to my bedroom, a soft word

"Sorry."

voice lingering in

I didn't. I walked away,

too," I murmured,

ideas for my restaurant when

face as I saw the

dude," I said, answering with a playful

always made me feel lighter. "What's up? You took forever to pick up.

with mock gravity.

was a soft chuckle on the other end. "Should I be worried? Or should I start packing my bags to help you run A&M? I've heard about your 'great cause' all the way in Italy, boss." "Oh, please. Don't start with that,"

ever need backup in New York, you know where to

But I'm not ready to hire you yet. You might

do have expensive taste," he admitted with a grin, leaning into the camera. "But seriously, Ari. Need any advice? I've learned

I almost rolled my eyes at the understatement. This man and his false modesty-like he isn't the same guy our master chef couldn't stop raving

some cooking you mean

I said finally. "Just brainstorming some new decor. It's been... a day. A new

got a

his quips, grateful for the distraction he provided. Somehow, he always knew how to lift my spirits. Talking to him was effortless, light and refreshing, like a cool breeze on a

Unlike Jared.

one could deny that Jared Smith was in a league of

that argument, I might have swallowed my

was smiling, but there was a subtle shift in his tone. "I've

my brow.

it's nothing heavy." His voice softened, "What fragrance were you wearing

guard. I blinked, trying to recall, but came up blank. "Fragrance? I don't remember. I don't usually wear perfume when I'm working. It's not professional to overpower

though his emerald eyes glimmered with something

asked, laughing nervously. "Was it that bad? Maybe it was just

the screen, drawing me in with the kind of intensity that made my breath

My breath hitched.

miss me?" I blurted, my face heating up the moment the words