Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 22: Chapter 22

I wanted to refuse, but the intimacy of the request made my heart race, hammering against my ribs.
Quinn sat in the chair, picking up his fork with that calm, composed air of his, like nothing was out of the ordinary. He lowered his gaze, quietly eating the tomato pasta I'd made him.
I grabbed the hairdryer and stood behind him, letting the warm air flow through his damp brown hair. My fingers brushed against the soft strands, and for a moment, I got lost in the sensation.
How long had it been since we'd shared such a quiet, calm moment like this? It felt like forever—so long, in fact, that I was seriously thinking about walking away from him for good.
By the time he finished the pasta, his hair was dry. Just as I was about to put the dryer away, Quinn suddenly reached out, wrapping his arm around my waist. In one swift motion, he pulled me onto his lap.
Startled, I looked up—right into his deep, brown eyes. His handsome face leaned closer, his cool fingers trailing up my back from my waist, igniting a shiver that ran through me.
"Quinn..." I murmured, my voice trembling, confused by his sudden intensity.
"Didn't you want me to leave?" His voice was rough, thick with something that made it hard for me to breathe, let alone resist.
I bit my lip, my heart tightening. He wasn't wrong—I didn't want him to go. Even if we were meant to part, even if things were beyond repair, I wanted to leave some mark on him.
Whether it was hate, love, or something in between, I wanted Quinn to never forget me, not for a single day of his life.
Without thinking, I reached out, wrapping my arms around his neck, and kissed him hard, desperate for something to hold onto.
For a second, his body stiffened, but then his eyes narrowed with something darker. He pulled me closer, his grip tightening as he lifted me effortlessly, deepening the kiss.
Our breaths mingled, and the kiss went on, each second filled with a heat neither of us could deny.
Hours later, the room was still. The only sound was the steady rise and fall of our chests as we lay in silence on the bed.
But this time, Quinn didn't leave right away. He stayed there, his back to me, quiet and still.
The soft moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow across his broad back. For a fleeting second, I felt an overwhelming urge to curl up against him, to let his warmth pull me into sleep. To let myself rest in his arms, even if only for this one night.
But the sound of Diana's phone ringing sliced through the fragile calm. The ringtone barely rang for three seconds before Quinn picked up. "Diana, what's going on?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.
I couldn't make out what she said, but the moment Quinn hung up, he grabbed a random set of clothes from the couch and tossed them on. "Wait there. I'll be right down," he said quickly before rushing out the door.
I froze for a moment, the knot in my stomach tightening. Then, I quickly threw on some clothes and made my way toward the stairs, only to see Quinn ushering Diana inside.
She stood in the living room, clutching a thermal food container, her face blotchy from tears. Her voice was soft and shaky, like a frightened kitten begging for help. "Quinn, I don't have anyone else. Please... don't leave me."
Her words cracked, pitiful and desperate, as though she were some wounded animal pleading for kindness. "Don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to disturb you... I just—I was worried you'd be hungry. You promised we'd have a late-night snack together..."
Quinn didn't seem to have the heart to snap at her. Gently, he took the thermos from her hands, his voice softening as he murmured, "Alright, stop crying now."
Diana burst into tears again, throwing herself into his arms like he was her lifeline.
From the top of the stairs, I watched it all unfold. Diana was so dramatic, she could've won an Oscar for "Best Performance by a Damsel in Distress."
Never in a million years would I have imagined her showing up uninvited in the middle of the night—and for Quinn to actually let her stay.
"Quinn," I called out, unable to hold it in any longer. "Don't forget what your grandfather said tonight." I frowned, gripping the only leverage I had left. My voice was sharp as I descended the stairs. "Even if you want her to move in, you'll have to wait until after we're divorced!"