His Regret Can No Longer Touch My Heart Chapter 04
Three days later, Delilah’s birthday banquet arrived.
The Hayes Family threw an obscenely lavish affair.
Invitations went out to every old family in Ohio.
Every lawyer, banker, and underground middleman who’d ever done business with the Hayes and Moretti families showed up.
I had zero desire to attend.
But Donna Rachel cornered me at my door, holding an exquisite evening gown.
“If you don’t show up, what will people say about the Hayes Family?”
“That our real daughter’s some kind of freak?”
I laughed.
Now I finally understood why they bothered finding me.
Everything was about the Hayes Family image.
At the banquet, Delilah took the stage in tears, thanking the Hayes Family for twenty years of love and care.
Caleb stayed by her side the entire night.
Wiping her tears, handing her the mic, shielding her from every question.
I sat in the corner, my glass of red wine untouched.
The noise crashed over me like a tide.
My chest ached so badly I could barely breathe.
I left early and returned to my room.
Pushing the door open, I froze.
My desk had been ransacked. Every drawer hung open.
I lunged for the nightstand.
My grandmother’s emerald brooch—the only thing she ever left me—was gone.
I stormed back to the banquet hall.
In the crowd, Delilah was holding up that emerald brooch, showing it off under the crystal chandelier.
She giggled to the girl beside her. “Hailey lent it to me. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Give it back.”
I walked up, my voice trembling.
Delilah flinched like she’d been spooked. Her hand slipped.
The emerald brooch crashed onto the marble floor.
Crack.
Shattered into pieces.
The entire room went dead silent.
Delilah’s tears started flowing instantly.
“Hailey… I didn’t mean to…”
Guests muttered.
Their eyes pinned on me like I was some unhinged lunatic.
Caleb approached and glanced at the fragments on the floor.
His voice was cold.
“Just an old brooch.”
I crouched down and gathered the pieces one by one.
Shards cut my fingers. Blood beaded over them.
But I felt absolutely nothing.
“My grandmother left this to me.”
Caleb’s expression finally shifted.
He knew better than anyone what my grandmother meant to me.
Because he was the one who stood beside me when I said goodbye to her.
Then, Delilah cried even harder.
Like a porcelain doll about to break.
Caleb paused—then reached out and wrapped his arms around her.
“Don’t cry.”
“It’s just a worthless brooch.”
“I’ll buy her a nicer replacement.”
Donna Rachel walked over, irritation thick in her voice.
“Hailey, Delilah didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Don’t be so petty. Stop embarrassing the Hayes Family in front of everyone.”
Don Hunter’s frown deepened.
“An old piece of jewelry. It’s broken. So what?”
“Don’t act so low-class in public!”
I stood up.
The shattered brooch clutched in my hand.
Fragments dug deep into my skin.
Blood dripped down between my fingers.
I walked straight to Delilah.
Raised my hand.
And slapped her hard across the face.
Smack!
The entire hall erupted in shock.
The next second, Caleb charged at me and grabbed my wrist.
His grip nearly crushed my bones.
“Hailey.”
His voice dropped dangerously low.
“You dare hit my fiancée!”
I locked eyes with him.
“She smashed my grandmother’s last keepsake.”
“I said I’ll compensate you.”
“You can’t afford it.”
The violence simmering in Caleb’s eyes ignited.
Slap.
His hand flew across my face—harder than the one I gave Delilah.
My cheek burned. Blood seeped from the corner of my lip.
Caleb’s eyes went glacial.
“Hailey, you’ve gone too far.”
I slowly turned my face back.
No tears.
No outburst.
I simply wiped the blood from my mouth.
Wrapped the shattered brooch carefully and tucked it into my inner pocket.
I looked at Caleb.
“I paid back everything I owed you.”
I turned to Don Hunter and Donna Rachel.
“I don’t need this family anymore.”
I turned and walked out of the banquet hall.
Back in my room, I packed my bags.
I owned very little. One suitcase held everything.
I took it all and left behind two pieces of paper.
An ultrasound—showing eight weeks pregnant.
A medical certificate for an accidental miscarriage—doctored by the photo editor I hired.
I placed both on the desk, dragged my suitcase, and left.
The maids and guards saw me go.
No one stopped me.
At the airport terminal.
I sent Caleb one message:
[Caleb, I repaid your kindness with five years of my youth and one life. From now on, we’re even.]
Attached both photos.
Sent.
Blocked.
Deleted.
Powered off the phone.
Tossed the SIM card into the trash.
The intercom chimed, “Flight to London now boarding…”
I stood up and walked toward the gate without looking back.