img Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson  /  Chapter 7 No.7 | 2.92%
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Chapter 7 No.7

Word Count: 562    |    Released on: 22/01/2026

was gone. Or rather, it was mask

broad, muscular chest covered in a grey t-shirt.

ns

as just his wife, and they were just sleeping. She breathed in

r body r

t it felt like a punch rol

rm away and scra

up instant

he bathroom, slamming the door. Sh

omach was empty. It was just dry heaving

oor open. Then the bath

messy from sleep. He looked at her huddl

ce har

ive? he asked. H

g her mouth with the ba

e and you vomit. Mess

rack and threw it at her. It la

elf up. Sto

ght is the Gala for the Children'

the towel off

sto

aid. "I'm sick, Jens

ill cut the funding to your grandfather's estate maintenance. I know Clark

od drain from her f

y

alke

ld tile floor. She c

ront door slam. Then she got dre

ce elevator down t

the elevator stoppe

h dark hair and eyes that held a calm intelligence

ng against the wall

oice was deep, gent

d, not trust

on to hold the door. "You don't look oka

him. The concern in his eyes felt ali

ispered. "Just..

g her space, but his g

is tone suggesting he wasn

opened to

t into the street.

told the driver

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