Revenge: Once His Wife, Now His Regret - Chapter 142: Chapter 142
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A cold, mocking smile touched Sally's lips.
She shook her head, trying to clear it, before stripping down and sinking into the hot water.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Jaxon was on the balcony, his voice low and gentle as he spoke on the phone.
She knew who it was just from his tone.
'It has to be Kendall,' she thought, a knot tightening in her stomach.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, his voice dropping even lower. "You said you weren't feeling well," he murmured into the phone. "It's late. You should get some rest."
That confirmed it. He was definitely talking to Kendall.
A wave of resentment washed over her, bitter and suffocating.
Fuming, she snapped off the bedside lamps, plunging the room into darkness.
She slipped under the covers and rolled over, turning her back to the balcony.
A moment later, she heard his footsteps.
A shadow fell across the room as he came back inside.
Jaxon settled onto the sofa with a blanket, his eyes finding hers in the dim light.
Even in the near darkness, she could feel his gaze on her.
Sally instinctively rolled over again, presenting him with her back.
A low, husky chuckle came from the sofa. "What did I do now?" Jaxon asked. "You keep rolling away from me like that, you're going to wear a hole in the mattress."
Sally fought back a smile. She shot back, her voice muffled by the pillow, "Good. Then you'd have to buy a new one."
"But this is the bed we've shared," he said, his voice a low purr. "I could never get rid of it."
Sally's back went rigid. The sudden intimacy of his words caught her completely off guard.
"Save the sweet talk," she snapped. "I'm immune. I'm sure it works better on Kendall."
The words were barely out of her mouth when the mattress dipped beside her.
A moment later, a large hand settled on her waist.
His presence was overwhelming, wrapping around her, all heat and raw masculinity.
Sally whipped her head around. "What are you doing? Get back on the sofa."
Before she could finish, he cut her off. "Are you jealous about that phone call?"
'Jealous.' The word hung in the air, and Sally's heart did a little stutter-step.
'Am I jealous?' she wondered, the thought startling her. She hadn't even considered it.
But hearing him talk to Kendall had definitely stung.
"Well?" Jaxon whispered, his lips brushing her ear.
His warm breath ghosted across her neck, and a shiver ran down her spine. A tingling heat spread through her.
Sally instinctively tried to pull away. "Jaxon, get off the bed."
"I'm not going to do anything," he said, releasing her.
He settled onto his back beside her, pulling a section of the duvet over himself. "Relax."
Sally glared at his profile in the dark. "You said we'd sleep separately. You're a liar."
"I did," he admitted, his voice soft. He wasn't looking at her, just staring up at the ceiling. "But I don't think you should be alone tonight."
Sally's knuckles whitened as she clutched the duvet. 'He saw right through me.'
Truthfully, the nightmares about prison usually meant a sleepless night. But with him lying here, the gnawing anxiety was already fading.
Sally settled back down, silent.
It was the first time they'd ever just lain in bed together, not touching, not fighting.
The quiet intimacy made her heart pound.
After a long silence, Jaxon's voice cut through the darkness. "Did they hurt you a lot in prison? What did they do to you?"
Sally's eyelids fluttered. A sharp pain lanced through her chest.
It took her a moment to find her voice. "You told me once you drove by the prison and saw a woman getting beaten... you said she looked a little like me." She took a shaky breath. "That was me."
It took every ounce of her courage to admit it. She'd never spoken about her past so openly with anyone.
At her words, Jaxon turned his head, his gaze tracing the shape of her back in the moonlight.
He'd never realized how delicate she was, how fragile she seemed.
"I lost count of how many times they beat me," she whispered. "A few times, I was sure I was going to die. I don't even know how I made it through."
Her voice grew thick with unshed tears, finally cracking on the last word.
A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her temple and soaking into the white pillowcase.
A strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her back against his chest.
He didn't say a word, just found her hand in the dark. His thumb gently traced the raised, jagged scar on her wrist, as if trying to feel the memory of the pain itself.
Exhausted, she finally drifted off to sleep in his arms.
Just before Sally went under, she felt a thumb gently wipe a tear from her temple, followed by the soft, brief press of his lips against her skin.
The last thing she heard, floating in the haze between wakefulness and sleep, was his voice, a low promise. "I'll clear your name, Sally. I swear it."
The next morning, Sally woke to an empty bed.
She reached for the spot where he'd been, but the sheets were already cold. 'He must have left early.'
When she got up, she found a new towel, toothbrush, and cup laid out for her on the bathroom counter.
The simple gesture made a warmth spread through her chest.
'Such a good man,' she thought with a pang of sadness. 'And he'll end up with someone else.'
Shaking off the thought, Sally washed up and headed downstairs.
Wendy, the housekeeper, greeted her with a warm smile. "Good morning, Sally!"
Sally managed a small smile. "Morning, Wendy."
Sally had been to Jaxon's home enough times to know that his staff-from Wendy to his driver and his assistant-were all aware of their complicated relationship. But no one ever said a word.
Jaxon clearly paid them well enough to ensure their discretion.
"Mr. Zale called and said you like oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon," Wendy said, setting a bowl down. "He said it's a good way to start the day."
"Thank you, Wendy," Sally said, her expression softening as she pulled out a chair. "Did Jaxon leave a long time ago? It's only just eight."
She shook her head, trying to clear it, before stripping down and sinking into the hot water.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Jaxon was on the balcony, his voice low and gentle as he spoke on the phone.
She knew who it was just from his tone.
'It has to be Kendall,' she thought, a knot tightening in her stomach.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, his voice dropping even lower. "You said you weren't feeling well," he murmured into the phone. "It's late. You should get some rest."
That confirmed it. He was definitely talking to Kendall.
A wave of resentment washed over her, bitter and suffocating.
Fuming, she snapped off the bedside lamps, plunging the room into darkness.
She slipped under the covers and rolled over, turning her back to the balcony.
A moment later, she heard his footsteps.
A shadow fell across the room as he came back inside.
Jaxon settled onto the sofa with a blanket, his eyes finding hers in the dim light.
Even in the near darkness, she could feel his gaze on her.
Sally instinctively rolled over again, presenting him with her back.
A low, husky chuckle came from the sofa. "What did I do now?" Jaxon asked. "You keep rolling away from me like that, you're going to wear a hole in the mattress."
Sally fought back a smile. She shot back, her voice muffled by the pillow, "Good. Then you'd have to buy a new one."
"But this is the bed we've shared," he said, his voice a low purr. "I could never get rid of it."
Sally's back went rigid. The sudden intimacy of his words caught her completely off guard.
"Save the sweet talk," she snapped. "I'm immune. I'm sure it works better on Kendall."
The words were barely out of her mouth when the mattress dipped beside her.
A moment later, a large hand settled on her waist.
His presence was overwhelming, wrapping around her, all heat and raw masculinity.
Sally whipped her head around. "What are you doing? Get back on the sofa."
Before she could finish, he cut her off. "Are you jealous about that phone call?"
'Jealous.' The word hung in the air, and Sally's heart did a little stutter-step.
'Am I jealous?' she wondered, the thought startling her. She hadn't even considered it.
But hearing him talk to Kendall had definitely stung.
"Well?" Jaxon whispered, his lips brushing her ear.
His warm breath ghosted across her neck, and a shiver ran down her spine. A tingling heat spread through her.
Sally instinctively tried to pull away. "Jaxon, get off the bed."
"I'm not going to do anything," he said, releasing her.
He settled onto his back beside her, pulling a section of the duvet over himself. "Relax."
Sally glared at his profile in the dark. "You said we'd sleep separately. You're a liar."
"I did," he admitted, his voice soft. He wasn't looking at her, just staring up at the ceiling. "But I don't think you should be alone tonight."
Sally's knuckles whitened as she clutched the duvet. 'He saw right through me.'
Truthfully, the nightmares about prison usually meant a sleepless night. But with him lying here, the gnawing anxiety was already fading.
Sally settled back down, silent.
It was the first time they'd ever just lain in bed together, not touching, not fighting.
The quiet intimacy made her heart pound.
After a long silence, Jaxon's voice cut through the darkness. "Did they hurt you a lot in prison? What did they do to you?"
Sally's eyelids fluttered. A sharp pain lanced through her chest.
It took her a moment to find her voice. "You told me once you drove by the prison and saw a woman getting beaten... you said she looked a little like me." She took a shaky breath. "That was me."
It took every ounce of her courage to admit it. She'd never spoken about her past so openly with anyone.
At her words, Jaxon turned his head, his gaze tracing the shape of her back in the moonlight.
He'd never realized how delicate she was, how fragile she seemed.
"I lost count of how many times they beat me," she whispered. "A few times, I was sure I was going to die. I don't even know how I made it through."
Her voice grew thick with unshed tears, finally cracking on the last word.
A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her temple and soaking into the white pillowcase.
A strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her back against his chest.
He didn't say a word, just found her hand in the dark. His thumb gently traced the raised, jagged scar on her wrist, as if trying to feel the memory of the pain itself.
Exhausted, she finally drifted off to sleep in his arms.
Just before Sally went under, she felt a thumb gently wipe a tear from her temple, followed by the soft, brief press of his lips against her skin.
The last thing she heard, floating in the haze between wakefulness and sleep, was his voice, a low promise. "I'll clear your name, Sally. I swear it."
The next morning, Sally woke to an empty bed.
She reached for the spot where he'd been, but the sheets were already cold. 'He must have left early.'
When she got up, she found a new towel, toothbrush, and cup laid out for her on the bathroom counter.
The simple gesture made a warmth spread through her chest.
'Such a good man,' she thought with a pang of sadness. 'And he'll end up with someone else.'
Shaking off the thought, Sally washed up and headed downstairs.
Wendy, the housekeeper, greeted her with a warm smile. "Good morning, Sally!"
Sally managed a small smile. "Morning, Wendy."
Sally had been to Jaxon's home enough times to know that his staff-from Wendy to his driver and his assistant-were all aware of their complicated relationship. But no one ever said a word.
Jaxon clearly paid them well enough to ensure their discretion.
"Mr. Zale called and said you like oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon," Wendy said, setting a bowl down. "He said it's a good way to start the day."
"Thank you, Wendy," Sally said, her expression softening as she pulled out a chair. "Did Jaxon leave a long time ago? It's only just eight."
End of Revenge: Once His Wife, Now His Regret Chapter 142. Continue reading Chapter 143 or return to Revenge: Once His Wife, Now His Regret book page.