Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 21

Later, they all had lunch together in the dining room.

As soon as Shirley stepped inside, her gaze was drawn to a painting hanging on the wall.

The artwork depicted an oak tree growing defiantly from the jagged edge of a cliff. Its leaves stood in stark contrast to the rugged stone—a portrait of pride, resilience, and quiet strength.

Sketched in charcoal and graphite on textured paper, the oak achieved a striking balance—the play of light and shadow so deftly handled that the leaves seemed to rustle with a breath of wind.

Shirley found herself mesmerized, staring at the painting longer and longer, growing fonder of it with each passing second before finally turning to Old Mr. Rutledge.

"Mr. Rutledge, who's the artist behind this piece?"

Old Mr. Rutledge glanced at Seren, his eyes shining with unmistakable pride.

"It's not by any famous painter," he replied, "but by Seren herself. She painted this when she was twelve."

It was no secret that Old Mr. Rutledge had always wholeheartedly supported Seren's passion for art.

Every single piece she'd created—practice sketches, even the ones she'd wanted to throw away—he'd had framed and hung on the walls like precious treasures.

Now, nearly every hallway in Rutledge Manor was adorned with Seren's work from over the years.

Shirley nodded appreciatively. "To have such talent at twelve… It's truly a rare gift."

Old Mr. Rutledge suddenly turned to Lennon, his tone warm but earnest.

"I have no objections to your marriage with Seren," he began, "but I want you to understand something: painting isn't just a hobby for her. It's the future she wants to build—a calling she's determined to pursue. She won't be confined to a role she didn't choose, and she shouldn't have to. She will live by her own rules. I hope you'll respect her choices and support her dreams."

His words were heartfelt, carrying the weight of someone who truly understood Seren's unyielding spirit.

Especially when it came to her art, Seren had poured far more of herself into it than most could ever imagine.

She could give up anything—except painting.

Lennon nodded gently, his voice calm and sincere.

"You have my word, Mr. Rutledge. Respecting and supporting my wife is a core value in the Crestwell family, and it's the bare minimum any husband should do."

"I would never try to restrict her freedom, not as her husband or otherwise."

"After we're married, if Seren wants to help with the family business, she's more than welcome. If not, there are plenty of others who can handle it."

"She's marrying me to be my partner, not to be a servant to the Crestwell family."

Seren looked up, meeting Lennon's gaze. He was looking right back at her, his eyes deep and clear, reflecting her own image.

Their eyes met, and she was the first to look away, suddenly flustered.

Her face grew warm, her heart pounding so loudly she could hardly hear her own thoughts. For the first time, she felt completely off balance—something that had never happened with Sheridan.

She had once thought that marrying Lennon would just be a way to settle, to move on from a failed relationship and find someone to share the days with.

But now, something inside her whispered that maybe, just maybe, she'd found the right person after all.

After lunch, as the afternoon slipped away, Shirley personally walked them to the door. Before they left, she even asked for Seren's WhatsApp.

On the drive to city hall, Seren and Lennon sat side by side in the car.

Once inside, she tried her best to ignore Lennon's presence.

But for reasons she couldn't explain, her eyes kept drifting to his face.

Lennon had a sort of distant elegance about him, a coolness that could make him seem unapproachable at first glance.

Yet his features were striking—almost impossibly handsome, as if God had taken extra care in their design, leaving nothing to be improved.