Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 47

Seren followed Lennon up to the rooftop of The Grand Seaside Hotel.

Lennon called for a waiter to take their order, while Seren gazed out the window at the vibrant city below—neon lights flickered, the streets glowed with promise, and the nightlife thrummed with energy. It was a sparkling, bustling scene.

When the waiter had finished taking their order and discreetly closed the door behind him, Seren finally broke the silence.

"Don't you think I'm too cold and heartless toward my family?" she asked quietly. "I refused to let them arrange a marriage for me, and I never even mentioned our engagement to my parents or introduced you to them. I've kept you completely apart from my family."

She listed each point, her voice steady but laden with guilt.

To the average person, any one of these things would be almost unthinkable—enough to have people whispering behind her back, calling her ungrateful, heartless, even ruthless.

In moments like this, she felt the gulf between herself and Lennon widening. He was the very image of a gentleman—reserved, self-disciplined, unfailingly polite.

She bowed her head, eyes lowered, unable to meet his gaze. Her voice was barely audible. "Compared to your family, with all its traditions and manners, I must seem completely out of place."

In her mind, someone raised as well as Lennon would surely resent her for this.

But Lennon's tone was calm and reassuring. "I have eyes, Seren. I've seen how you treat my grandfather—with nothing but respect and patience. And you're always polite and considerate with my cousin, too. That's more than enough to prove that you're not cold-hearted at all."

He continued, his baritone voice gentle, every word measured and steady. "If you're distant from your own family, it's because they must have done something to hurt you. You're not heartless, Seren. You simply know right from wrong. That's not a lack of manners."

Time seemed to slow in that moment. Somewhere, the night breeze drifted in, sweeping away the clutter of her thoughts.

Seren finally looked up, cautiously meeting Lennon's gaze. His eyes were deep and dark, like a still lake at midnight, full of concern and tenderness—worry, yes, but never a hint of contempt or disappointment.

The anxiety that had been knotting inside her began to melt away.

In the quiet that followed, Lennon spoke again, his voice soft. "You must be hungry. Did you skip lunch?"

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