Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 62

Seren wanted to fire back, a retort already half-typed into the message box.

But after a moment's hesitation, she deleted each word, one by one, until the screen was empty again.

If she responded to Sheridan now, he'd only cling even tighter, and that wouldn't be fair to Lennon.

So she left the conversation unanswered, her expression icy as she blocked and deleted Sheridan's work number for good measure.

Once she was sure he was gone, Seren carefully scrolled through her WhatsApp contacts, double-checking for anyone remotely connected to Sheridan. All traces—gone. These were the hidden landmines threatening her relationship with Lennon, and she was determined to clear them all away.

*

Meanwhile, across Riverbend City—

"Seren, take me off your block list! I need to talk to you!"

Sheridan was fuming, his fingers flying as he hammered out the message and hit send.

But instead of the familiar "delivered" checkmark, a glaring red exclamation point appeared, with a line of text beneath:

**Message sent but rejected by recipient.**

Sheridan stared, dumbfounded.

She'd blocked him—again.

How dare she!

Still seething, Sheridan went back to Seren's latest WhatsApp status and took a quick screenshot. Without a second thought, he forwarded it to his group chat—a ragtag bunch of drinking buddies.

"Check out this girl—Seren's hilarious. Just to piss me off, she posts some random pic online and pretends it's her big announcement. Give me a break."

Sheridan's thumb hovered over Quentin's message, his anger faltering for a moment. He looked again at the photo. Just as Quentin had said, the timestamp was right there.

He stared hard at the image. Suddenly, his gaze caught on something—a thin, pale scar on the delicate wrist of the hand in the photo.

He froze.

That scar… he knew it. It was Seren's hand.

She'd gotten that scar years ago, back when he was at The Golden Age clinic—when his legs were paralyzed and he'd all but given up. The housekeeper had left a paring knife on the table, and Seren, desperate to stop him from doing something reckless, had grabbed the blade from his hand—cutting herself in the process.

Seren's skin had always scarred easily; it had taken months of special ointment before the mark finally faded to a faint line.

Now, seeing that familiar scar, Sheridan's suspicions were confirmed. But instead of enlightenment, his anger only deepened.

How dare Seren flaunt her new relationship right in his face!