Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 121: Chapter 121
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 121: Chapter 121. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
Simon froze, breath forgotten, hands suspended mid-air lest the slightest movement scare her away.
Just as his arms lowered, Elena stepped back. The space—and the lingering warmth—vanished, leaving his chest strangely hollow.
Only then did Elena realize what she'd done; Simon's kindness had tempted her toward a warmth she hadn't felt in years, yet a lifetime of cruelty and coldness warned her not to trust so easily.
Elena whispered, her head bowed, "I'm sorry—I'm just a little cold."
Simon's Adam's apple bobbed. "It's all right," he replied.
He switched on the heater, guided her chilled fingers to the vent, and asked, "Warmer now?"
She nodded. Warmth gradually seeped back into her limbs, color blossoming on her cheeks again, and only then did Simon start the engine.
Warmth seeped back into her limbs and color returned to her cheeks; only then did Simon start the engine.
He glanced at the clock and said, "We're not going back to headquarters. There's a dinner tonight. Come with me—I'd like you to meet a few people."
"All right," Elena agreed.
Elena assumed he was dragging her to a stiff business dinner, the sort where she would be introduced to potential partners.
Instead, when they stepped into the private suite she discovered only three men—Samuel Shaw, whom she recognized, and two other well-heeled heirs about Simon's age whom she had never met.
Three men were already seated in the private suite—Samuel Shaw and two other trust-fund heirs about their age whom Elena had never met.
After guiding her to a seat, Simon made the introductions. "This is my cousin, Andrew Carter. That's Quentin Harris. And, of course, you already know Samuel."
Except for Samuel, the other two stared at Elena in open astonishment. In more than twenty years, Simon had never brought a single woman into their circle. She was the first.
For more than twenty years, Simon had never once appeared with a woman—until this moment.
Quentin was the first to recover; he rose quickly and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you."
Elena returned a polite smile and shook it. "Hello, I'm Elena Bennett."
Andrew blinked at Samuel, then at Elena, silently mouthing, What on earth?
The word "sis-in-law" stuck in Andrew Carter's throat; too scared to say it, he played it safe and greeted her with a meek, "Miss Bennett."
After all, everybody knew his cousin had carried a first love in his heart and stayed single nearly thirty years for her.
Andrew had just fished out a cigarette and was about to strike a lighter when Simon's voice cut through the room, cold and sharp. "Take it outside."
Glancing at Elena, Andrew stuffed the cigarette back into the packet, sulking but suddenly certain that this Bennett girl mattered to his cousin.
After dinner they opened wine and a deck of cards. Andrew, always a little reckless, managed to lose every hand and down every forfeit; within a few rounds he was well and truly drunk.
After several more rounds Andrew was already swaying drunk. He turned to Elena, eyes bleary, and slurred, "Come over here—I'll teach you."
"Bro, you can't keep the fun to yourself! Let Miss Bennett have a turn," Andrew slurred.
Elena raised her hands. "I don't know how to play."
Andrew cackled. "Perfect—then we can lose together!"
"I wouldn't count on that," Simon said coolly, then turned to her with a faint smile. "Come here, I'll teach you."
Elena slid onto the seat beside him. Simon taught patiently and she picked it up in no time. Beginners are blessed by luck; as soon as she learned the rules her winning streak exploded, and after a few more rounds Andrew had lost down to his metaphorical underwear, wailing, "I'm out, I'm out!"
Beginners are always favored by Lady Luck; the instant Elena grasped the rules her luck exploded. After just a few hands Andrew had lost even his shorts and surrendered, shouting, "I quit, I quit!"
Simon's lips quirked; he stuffed the pile of bills he'd won into Elena's hands.
Andrew sprawled half-reclined on the sofa. The alcohol had fuzzed his brain, and, out of nowhere, he blurted, "Bro, does this mean you're done waiting for your first love?"
Just as his arms lowered, Elena stepped back. The space—and the lingering warmth—vanished, leaving his chest strangely hollow.
Only then did Elena realize what she'd done; Simon's kindness had tempted her toward a warmth she hadn't felt in years, yet a lifetime of cruelty and coldness warned her not to trust so easily.
Elena whispered, her head bowed, "I'm sorry—I'm just a little cold."
Simon's Adam's apple bobbed. "It's all right," he replied.
He switched on the heater, guided her chilled fingers to the vent, and asked, "Warmer now?"
She nodded. Warmth gradually seeped back into her limbs, color blossoming on her cheeks again, and only then did Simon start the engine.
Warmth seeped back into her limbs and color returned to her cheeks; only then did Simon start the engine.
He glanced at the clock and said, "We're not going back to headquarters. There's a dinner tonight. Come with me—I'd like you to meet a few people."
"All right," Elena agreed.
Elena assumed he was dragging her to a stiff business dinner, the sort where she would be introduced to potential partners.
Instead, when they stepped into the private suite she discovered only three men—Samuel Shaw, whom she recognized, and two other well-heeled heirs about Simon's age whom she had never met.
Three men were already seated in the private suite—Samuel Shaw and two other trust-fund heirs about their age whom Elena had never met.
After guiding her to a seat, Simon made the introductions. "This is my cousin, Andrew Carter. That's Quentin Harris. And, of course, you already know Samuel."
Except for Samuel, the other two stared at Elena in open astonishment. In more than twenty years, Simon had never brought a single woman into their circle. She was the first.
For more than twenty years, Simon had never once appeared with a woman—until this moment.
Quentin was the first to recover; he rose quickly and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you."
Elena returned a polite smile and shook it. "Hello, I'm Elena Bennett."
Andrew blinked at Samuel, then at Elena, silently mouthing, What on earth?
The word "sis-in-law" stuck in Andrew Carter's throat; too scared to say it, he played it safe and greeted her with a meek, "Miss Bennett."
After all, everybody knew his cousin had carried a first love in his heart and stayed single nearly thirty years for her.
Andrew had just fished out a cigarette and was about to strike a lighter when Simon's voice cut through the room, cold and sharp. "Take it outside."
Glancing at Elena, Andrew stuffed the cigarette back into the packet, sulking but suddenly certain that this Bennett girl mattered to his cousin.
After dinner they opened wine and a deck of cards. Andrew, always a little reckless, managed to lose every hand and down every forfeit; within a few rounds he was well and truly drunk.
After several more rounds Andrew was already swaying drunk. He turned to Elena, eyes bleary, and slurred, "Come over here—I'll teach you."
"Bro, you can't keep the fun to yourself! Let Miss Bennett have a turn," Andrew slurred.
Elena raised her hands. "I don't know how to play."
Andrew cackled. "Perfect—then we can lose together!"
"I wouldn't count on that," Simon said coolly, then turned to her with a faint smile. "Come here, I'll teach you."
Elena slid onto the seat beside him. Simon taught patiently and she picked it up in no time. Beginners are blessed by luck; as soon as she learned the rules her winning streak exploded, and after a few more rounds Andrew had lost down to his metaphorical underwear, wailing, "I'm out, I'm out!"
Beginners are always favored by Lady Luck; the instant Elena grasped the rules her luck exploded. After just a few hands Andrew had lost even his shorts and surrendered, shouting, "I quit, I quit!"
Simon's lips quirked; he stuffed the pile of bills he'd won into Elena's hands.
Andrew sprawled half-reclined on the sofa. The alcohol had fuzzed his brain, and, out of nowhere, he blurted, "Bro, does this mean you're done waiting for your first love?"
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