Chapter 175 No Divorce, Only Bereavement

The man stood by the sofa. He picked up a cigar from the tea table, lit it up, and smoked it to a good depth of his lungs.
I looked at the fine lines between his eyebrows. Things that happened recently had obviously tired him. I put away my worry and looked at him tenderly, “Wayne Gilbert, do you regret it?”
He might regret that he and I got married. He might regret that he pushed the woman he loved far and father away.
He didn’t reply. I looked at his gloomy face carefully and...