Jealousy had never felt like this.
It wasn’t sharp or explosive. It was slow, aching, mixed with regret so deep it felt physical. Lucas stared out of the plane window as clouds passed beneath him, his reflection faint in the glass—older, heavier, carved by years of guilt.
Five years.
Five years of believing the wrong people.
Five years of letting silence decide his fate.
And now Marilyn was everywhere—on screens, magazine covers, red carpets—alive in a world he had lost the right to touch.
' And she has a child , ' his mind whispered again.
His child.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, not knowing whether he was apologizing to the sky, to fate, or to the woman he had loved too late.
He feels unlucky as he never get to witnessed his children baby period
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Marilyn That Night
