Chapter 2 Don't Regret It!

Abigail looked down, not wanting him to see her tears. "I'm going on dates. I'll find someone else."

Edward laughed. "After being with me, you think you'll find another guy interesting?"

He was always so full of himself, and he had every reason to be.

But Abigail felt a wave of bitter resentment.

He wouldn't marry her, but he was sure she couldn't marry anyone else?

Abigail grabbed her underwear, her voice icy. "We're done. Who I end up with is none of your business."

Edward's eyes darkened, and his voice turned cold. "So, are you sure about leaving me?"

Abigail’s fists tightened, her knuckles turning white as her nails dug into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks.

She had told him it was over, but his arrogant gaze never wavered, as if her feelings were nothing more than a joke to him.

Abigail closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down. After taking a deep breath, she placed the black card and the villa key he had given her on the coffee table. "Mr. Harrison, I hope you and your fiancée are happy together."

With that, she turned to leave. But after a few steps, she added, "Mr. Harrison, if you'd rather I stay away from Miss Bennett, just have her say she's unhappy with my designs and wants someone else. I won't argue."

Edward stared at her, his eyes cold.

After a moment, he said flatly, "You don't need to return anything I gave you while we were together. As per our agreement, I'll give you another two million dollars. I'm not that petty with my lover."

Abigail thought she had no feelings for him, but hearing him call her lover made her heart ache.

Trying to hide her sadness, she turned and left.

As she reached the door, a cold voice called out behind her, "If you walk out that door, don’t come back regretting it."

Abigail, seemingly not having heard it, left without looking back.

She didn't take any expensive jewelry Edward had bought or his money.

As she walked out of the villa, she looked at the heavy rain and got lost in thought.

She walked in the rain, quickly soaked to the skin. Her hair dripped with water, and her vision blurred as the rain streamed down her face.

Her mind drifted back to the first time she met Edward.

She was only eighteen then, a freshman in college. Her alcoholic father had fled, leaving her and her mother behind with a mountain of gambling debts. Debt collectors would come to their house daily, smashing things and threatening to sell her and her mother into prostitution if the money wasn't repaid.

Her mother, who had been in poor health for several years, fell gravely ill due to the strain.

In desperation, Abigail secured a job at a nightclub.

On her inaugural shift, she accidentally spilled drinks worth a fortune on Edward's tailored suit.

He was drenched in alcohol, his shirt clinging to his skin, yet he didn't look the least bit disheveled. He simply said coldly, "You've got some nerve!"

Terrified, she quickly apologized with her red eyes, "I'm really sorry, sir. I'll pay for a new one. Please, forgive me."

The manager heard and rushed over, shoving her aside. "You think you can afford this? Get out of my sight!"

The manager bowed, hastily apologizing to Edward, "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Harrison. She’s new and clueless. I’ll fire her on the spot!"

Hearing that, Abigail abruptly looked up. "I'll pay for it! Please don't fire me. Please."

She couldn't afford to lose this job—the debt collectors were coming tomorrow!

In desperation, she lunged forward and grabbed the soaked hem of Edward's shirt, her hands now stained with red wine, some even dripping onto her face.

She didn't care about her dignity. She lowered her head and begged, "Please, please forgive me."

She was so scared that she didn't notice the coldness in Edward's eyes.

The next moment, her chin was abruptly lifted, and her neck ached as if its muscles were being torn apart.

She let out a pained whimper, and Edward, as if burned, quickly released her.

Yet, Abigail noticed a flicker of panic in his movements—was it because he had hurt her?

"Do you know how much this shirt costs?" he asked coldly.

Abigail shook her head, her expression blank, and from his thin lips came a staggering figure.

Her face instantly turned pale. Edward studied her for a moment, then suddenly asked, "How old are you? Why are you working here?"

The abrupt change in topic caught her off guard.

Choking back tears, she told him she was eighteen and explained her family's debt.

While his friends teased that most nightclub tales were fabricated, Edward remained silent.

He looked her up and down, then took off his shirt and tossed it at Abigail. "Think it over," he said. "If you want it, come find me." As the soaked shirt landed, a business card slipped out, along with a card with a password written on it.

She knew it was an offer to be his mistress. People envied her for having such a wealthy benefactor, but why did she fall for his daily affection and develop feelings for him?

If she had known she was just a stand-in, she wouldn't have dreamed, only to be shattered in the end.

The next day, a Saturday, she went to visit her mom, Tracy Griffin, in the hospital.

As soon as she walked in, she spotted Tracy chatting with a young doctor. "My daughter is a designer, very talented and beautiful, but she never gets married, which worries me to death. If I could have a son-in-law like Dr. Marshall, I'd die happy."

The doctor, tall and slender, possessing a soothingly familiar voice, responded, "Marriage is a matter of destiny. Just prioritize your well-being."

Feeling awkward as Tracy unexpectedly broached the topic of marriage with a stranger, Abigail hesitated, only for the doctor to turn around and unveil a handsome, refined face.

She froze, then hesitantly said, "Stuart?"

The doctor looked at her, then smiled. "Abigail? It's really you. When Tracy said her daughter was named Abigail, I wondered if it was a coincidence."

Tracy, puzzled, asked, "Abigail, you know Dr. Marshall?"

Abigail smiled. "He was a senior in high school."

Stuart Marshall, a senior to her, had been a well-liked presence in school. They were both part of the same club, and he had been a protective figure towards her. However, upon going overseas to pursue medical studies, they drifted apart.

Stuart looked at her warmly. "It's been years, and you've grown into a beautiful woman. Your mom's worry about you not getting married seems unnecessary. You must have many suitors."

Abigail was speechless.

She had no suitors, and Edward had scared off any potential ones. Tracy thought she was single, not knowing she was someone's mistress.

She said, "No, but you're still as charming as ever."

She casually brushed her hair and changed the subject. "I thought you'd stay abroad. Why did you come back?"

Stuart sighed. "Family pressure to get married."

They left the room and chatted about old times, exchanging contact information. Abigail learned he was now Tracy's primary doctor.

Having a familiar friend made things easier. Abigail felt more warmth towards Stuart. "Next time, I owe you a meal."

"No need to wait. If you’re free, why not come to a party with me tonight?" Stuart grinned. "My parents are on my case about dating. If I don’t bring someone soon, I’ll be stuck going on a million blind dates."

Sensing her hesitation, he added, "It's just a regular party. You'd be my date."

Abigail hadn't expected such a request, but being a date wasn't a big deal.

After a moment's thought, she agreed.

Stuart arranged to pick her up at six and even had a dress prepared for her.

After getting dressed, they arrived at the hotel hosting the party.

Walking in with Stuart, Abigail's face paled when she saw the two people in the center of the room.