Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 21: Chapter 21
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 21: Chapter 21. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
So that is what it means when someone doesn't love you: she had chased Victor for years, and all she ever received in return was a cold stare.
What baffled her was that Victor clearly didn't love her, yet the night Lawrence Bennett proposed Annabelle's engagement, Victor had opened his mouth and refused.
All these years later, she still couldn't read his mind.
But now she no longer wished to try.
The moment Victor personally suggested shipping her off to the prison, her heart had turned to ash.
Dressed in torn street clothes, Elena looked absurdly out of place amid the glittering gowns of the boutique; standing behind Victor and Annabelle, she could easily have been mistaken for a maid.
Resting wearily against Victor's chest, Annabelle pouted, "Victor, I'm hungry. I want pastries from Noms'—will you buy some for me?"
"All right. Wait here," Victor replied.
After Victor walked away, Annabelle rose, carried her water glass over to Elena, and smiled in triumph. "Sister, watching Victor spoil me like this must sting, doesn't it?" she said.
"You used to trail him like a lapdog, pressing your warm face against his cold back. But with just one word from me, Victor became mine!"
She laughed aloud. "Sister, when Victor and I marry, we'll need you as our bridesmaid! Make sure that injury on your hand heals quickly—I don't want you embarrassing me."
"Oh, and as proof of your sisterly love, you won't mind hand-sewing my wedding gown, will you? Be sure to stitch every seam nice and neat."
Elena lifted her eyes and met Annabelle's poisonous stare.
Annabelle hissed, "I'll let you taste what it's like to lose the one you love most—and to make a bridal dress for the person you hate most."
Elena chuckled. "So, Victor matters that much to you."
Annabelle's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. I stopped loving him long ago. Even without you, I would have broken off the engagement," Elena said calmly.
Ever since Victor, to protect Annabelle, had dragged her before Madam Whitmore to "confess," since he'd personally announced she'd be sent away to be remade, her hopes had died completely.
She was already covered in unseen wounds—why keep loving a man whose heart held no place for her?
Annabelle frowned, and at that moment she spotted a tall figure pushing open the glass door.
She darted forward, seized Elena's wrist, and in the scuffle poured the entire cup of water over herself.
"Ah! Elena, I'm sorry—I didn't mean anything. Please don't hit me..." she cried pitifully.
Elena's gaze turned icy. She glanced back and indeed saw Victor striding toward her, rage written across his face.
Victor grabbed Elena's wrist. "I was gone for one minute and you're already bullying her, aren't you?" he snapped.
His fingers clamped down on her wound; pain shot up her arm, and Elena's brows knit as her hand trembled.
"I didn't!" Elena lifted her head, meeting his eyes with a stubborn glare that made Victor's pupils shrink.
Annabelle tugged his sleeve. "Victor, Sister's still angry about breaking off the engagement. Don't be mad at her... If you like, I— I can give you back to her."
Elena clenched her teeth, staring at Victor.
Victor looked at the red marks on her wrist, then abruptly released her. "Behave yourself," he warned.
What baffled her was that Victor clearly didn't love her, yet the night Lawrence Bennett proposed Annabelle's engagement, Victor had opened his mouth and refused.
All these years later, she still couldn't read his mind.
But now she no longer wished to try.
The moment Victor personally suggested shipping her off to the prison, her heart had turned to ash.
Dressed in torn street clothes, Elena looked absurdly out of place amid the glittering gowns of the boutique; standing behind Victor and Annabelle, she could easily have been mistaken for a maid.
Resting wearily against Victor's chest, Annabelle pouted, "Victor, I'm hungry. I want pastries from Noms'—will you buy some for me?"
"All right. Wait here," Victor replied.
After Victor walked away, Annabelle rose, carried her water glass over to Elena, and smiled in triumph. "Sister, watching Victor spoil me like this must sting, doesn't it?" she said.
"You used to trail him like a lapdog, pressing your warm face against his cold back. But with just one word from me, Victor became mine!"
She laughed aloud. "Sister, when Victor and I marry, we'll need you as our bridesmaid! Make sure that injury on your hand heals quickly—I don't want you embarrassing me."
"Oh, and as proof of your sisterly love, you won't mind hand-sewing my wedding gown, will you? Be sure to stitch every seam nice and neat."
Elena lifted her eyes and met Annabelle's poisonous stare.
Annabelle hissed, "I'll let you taste what it's like to lose the one you love most—and to make a bridal dress for the person you hate most."
Elena chuckled. "So, Victor matters that much to you."
Annabelle's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. I stopped loving him long ago. Even without you, I would have broken off the engagement," Elena said calmly.
Ever since Victor, to protect Annabelle, had dragged her before Madam Whitmore to "confess," since he'd personally announced she'd be sent away to be remade, her hopes had died completely.
She was already covered in unseen wounds—why keep loving a man whose heart held no place for her?
Annabelle frowned, and at that moment she spotted a tall figure pushing open the glass door.
She darted forward, seized Elena's wrist, and in the scuffle poured the entire cup of water over herself.
"Ah! Elena, I'm sorry—I didn't mean anything. Please don't hit me..." she cried pitifully.
Elena's gaze turned icy. She glanced back and indeed saw Victor striding toward her, rage written across his face.
Victor grabbed Elena's wrist. "I was gone for one minute and you're already bullying her, aren't you?" he snapped.
His fingers clamped down on her wound; pain shot up her arm, and Elena's brows knit as her hand trembled.
"I didn't!" Elena lifted her head, meeting his eyes with a stubborn glare that made Victor's pupils shrink.
Annabelle tugged his sleeve. "Victor, Sister's still angry about breaking off the engagement. Don't be mad at her... If you like, I— I can give you back to her."
Elena clenched her teeth, staring at Victor.
Victor looked at the red marks on her wrist, then abruptly released her. "Behave yourself," he warned.
End of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back Chapter 21. Continue reading Chapter 22 or return to Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back book page.