Chapter 108 Regret What?
After dinner, they moved to the living room. Derek kept his arm around her shoulders the entire time.
Rebecca leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. They stayed like that quietly for a while.
Then, unexpectedly, she spoke. “Can I ask you something?” she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice like she needed to clarify something.
“Of course,” Derek answered even though a part of him was hoping she wouldn't ask about Celia again.
She lifted her head slightly to look at him. “When we met after you saw the ultrasound result… you said you didn’t want love in this marriage.”
He went still, wondering where that was coming from.
“You were very clear,” she continued softly. “You said it would be practical. Clean and no strings attached.”
He remembered because he knew he had meant every word back then. “I did,” he admitted.
Rebecca studied his face carefully. “So what changed?”
The question was gentle. It wasn't sounding accusing or anything of the sort, instead, it just felt honest.
Derek swallowed. He gazed at her and the look in her eyes told him she really wanted to know.
“it was you who changed my decision,” he said quietly.
She blinked, surprised. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“How?” she asked curiously.
He leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful now instead of tense.
“When I first found out that you and I had… been together through my driver,” he said slowly, “I was angry.”
She looked down briefly, guilt flickering across her face at the memory of her lie.
“I felt deceived,” he continued. “Not because of what happened. But because you hid it even after I asked you several times.”
Rebecca nodded faintly.
“At first,” he admitted, “it was curiosity. I wanted to understand why you lied. Why you acted like nothing had happened a d if truly the baby was mine.”
He paused. “And then you were taken.”
Her breath caught slightly at the memory.
He remembered that moment clearly. The fight and her storming off. The realization that she was missing.
“I didn’t think,” he said quietly. “I just reacted. I didn’t care about pride. Or anger. Or the lie. I just kept thinking… what if something happens to her?”
Rebecca’s eyes softened. “In that moment,” he continued, voice lower now, “I realized I didn’t want anything to happen to you. Not because of responsibility. Not because of obligation.”
He looked at her fully. “But because the thought of losing you felt wrong.”
Her heart began to beat faster at his confession.
“I told myself,” he added, “that if you survived… if you came back safe… I would come clean. About everything. About my past. About my mistakes. I didn’t want to keep living halfway.”
Rebecca stared at him, absorbing every word. “So it wasn’t guilt?” she asked quietly.
He hesitated. “It started as confusion,” he admitted. “Maybe even ego. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being that.”
He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
“You made me see that I didn’t want a cold marriage. I thought I did. I thought it would be easier.”
He gave a small, almost bitter smile. “But it wasn’t.”
Rebecca’s eyes glistened slightly. “You don’t regret it?” she asked.
“Regret what?”
“Letting it become more.”
He shook his head slowly. “No.”
That answer came without hesitation and for the first time that evening, it felt completely honest.
Rebecca let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
She leaned forward and rested her forehead lightly against his chest.
“I’m glad,” she whispered.
He held her tighter, and yet, beneath that warmth, the unspoken truth still sat between them.
Because while he had told her about the change in his heart, he had not told her about today.
He had not told her about Celia or about the kiss. That omission pressed quietly against his ribs.
Later that night, they lay in bed facing opposite directions. The room was quiet but comfortable.
Rebecca’s breathing slowly evened out as she drifted toward sleep.
Derek stared at the ceiling.
‘You should tell her.’
The thought came again.
You just told her you promised to come clean.
His jaw tightened. But telling her about Celia now would ruin this moment.
It would reopen wounds. It would make her question everything he had just said. It would hurt her and she wouldn't think it meant nothing.
He turned onto his side and looked at Rebecca’s back. She looked small and peaceful in the dim light.
He reached out slowly and brushed his fingers lightly against her arm.
She stirred slightly but didn’t wake. “I love you,” he whispered under his breath.
This time, the words felt steadier. But still incomplete. He almost said her name, almost woke her up and almost confessed everything.
But then he imagined her expression changing. The trust fading. The careful progress they had made cracking open again, and he couldn’t do it.
So he stayed silent. That was the second lie. A lie not spoken, but kept.
Beside him, Rebecca shifted slightly in her sleep and unconsciously moved closer. Her hand rested lightly against his arm.
He swallowed hard. She still felt safe, she still trusted him, and he had just placed the first invisible crack between them.
He told himself again that it meant nothing, that it would go away, that Celia would stop after he'd warned her that way. That today had been a mistake that would never repeat itself.
He forced himself to believe it but somewher
e deep inside, a quiet voice whispered something he didn’t want to hear:
If you promised to come clean… Why are you silent now?
He shut his eyes tighter, and chose not to answer.