My Cheating Husband's Regret

(Isla's POV)

I should've ignored the doorbell. Should've left it ringing and kept stirring the damn pot. But I didn't. I wiped my hands on a dish towel and hurried across the marble floors of the Edinburgh mansion Lachlan insisted we live in-big, cold, perfect. Like him.

Dinner was half-cooked. My head? Miles away. I'd been thinking about the old days. Five years of marriage. Some of it good. Most of it... routine. But tonight felt different. Quiet. Like something was coming.

Then my phone buzzed. It was Fiona. I hadn't heard that name in a long time. "Hey, Isla. I'm on my way to your place. Just landed." I blinked. "What? Wait-right now?" "Can't wait to see you. It's been too long." I said excitedly.

The line cut. Just like that. Typical Fiona-no warning, no filter. But I smiled anyway. Minutes later, the doorbell rang again. And I opened it. There she was. Fiona Stewart. Blonde, glowing, suitcase in hand, smile that could sell a lie and make you thank her for it.

"Isla," she breathed. "Still gorgeous as hell." I laughed. "You look the same. Maybe hotter. God! It's really you." We hugged like we hadn't been ghosting each other for years. "Come in," I said, dragging her suitcase inside. "Ignore the mess. Well, not that there is one-Lachlan hates mess."

Her smile twitched. "Still the control freak?"

"Worse."

She followed me inside, eyes drifting across the polished interior like it was a museum. "This place is beautiful." She said. "Thanks bestie, it's a house he bought few years ago." She turned serious. "I wouldn't be here if I had anywhere else, Isla. Things... fell apart abroad and I lost my job. Lost everything, really." She mumbled as her eyes began to flood up with tears.

"You could've called." I snapped. "I was ashamed." Her voice cracked. I hated that sound on her and the tears in her eyes. Fiona wasn't built to break. She was the one who used to pull me out of the dark. I reached for her hand. "You're staying here. No questions."

"But what about-?"

"Lachlan?" I forced a smile. "I'll handle him." She nodded, relief softening her face. "Just a few weeks. I'll be invisible." I didn't believe that. Because Fiona I know had never been invisible a day in her life.

We sat on the couch chatting about the past, our individual accomplishments, and regrets. We joked, drank wine, and immediately got back in touch. She seemed to still know me better than everyone else, yet I kept staring at her, wondering how we had drifted apart for such a long time.

Until I heard the front door open. I froze.... Lachlan. He stepped inside, dark suit, colder eyes. Dropped his briefcase without looking at it. His gaze locked on Fiona. The air constricted, but his face remained unflinching.

"This is Fiona," I said carefully. "You remember her?" His nod was slow. Calculated. "Of course." He answered. "Hi, Lachlan," Fiona said, too sweet. "Been a while." "Sure has." His voice was dry. Dead. "Can I speak to you, Isla?"

I followed him into the dining room, heart already bracing. "How long?" he asked, eyes sharp. "She just arrived." I muttered. "I didn't ask when. I asked how long she's staying." I swallowed. "A few weeks. She needs a place." I said with a whisper. "We're not a hotel." He thundered. "Off curse you know she's my friend, Lachlan." I countered.

He ran his hand through his hair, jaw locked. "You should've asked." "But you would've said no."

"Exactly."

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "She has nowhere else." He didn't respond. Just stared, like he was trying to read something behind my eyes. Something I wasn't even sure was there. "She can stay a week," he said finally. "That's it."

I kissed him before he could say more. It was automatic, rehearsed and a kind of a peace offering. He kissed me back-but his eyes were still on Fiona. And that's when I knew.

I shouldn't have opened that door.

(Asla's POV)

Fiona and I talked for hours. We laughed. Caught up on everything. It was late by the time she was ready to sleep. I crept back to my room after leaving hers. Lachlan wasn't sleeping; he was in bed. simply resting there. I climbed in beside him.

With a sigh into the quiet. "I had a good time discussing and sharing memories with my friend." I muttered. I could feel the warmth of his body on mine as I put my arm on his chest trying to get comfortable. But I couldn't sleep.

My mind wouldn't let me. Fiona needs help. I swiveled around, looking at him passionately in the lamp's faint light. It was as if he could sense my worry even though he was partly sleeping. His right hand moved over my hip and drew me closer to himself.

"Ohh, I disturbed your sleep? I'm sorry," I whispered.

It took some time for him to open his eyes. "Hmmm, so you decided to stay with your friend for so long?" he murmured in a low voice. But not cold. Not exactly. I felt it-the edge. Not anger, not quite. But something close. Maybe jealousy.

I answered, "I had to be with her." "It has been a while." Now he really reached for me and pulled me into his chest. I rested on my elbow and sat up a little. "We need to talk, Lachlan." His firm, soft hand remained on my hip. Before his gaze met mine, he blinked several times.

"About what?"

"I need you to help Fiona," I said quietly. That got his attention. "She needs a job," I added. "She's drowning no matter how hard she tries, and I know this is too much for me to ask, but could you please assist her?

His eyes faltered. He seemed to be attempting to read the portion I wasn't speaking as he looked at me.

His voice came slow. "I thought she was just staying for a week?" He inquired. "Yes, she is. I answered. This isn't about her living here. She needs to stand up again. I don't want her to see as a bad friend who doesn't give a damn about her friend's problems.

He shifted. "You care a lot," he said, almost to himself. "Too much, maybe."

"What do you mean?" I scowled, expressing my discomfort without being too overt. "I don't like the fact that she wants to be living with us for a long time." He said in a low voice,

He was honest in his judgment, but that stung. I didn't back off, though. "I'm asking you to help her because of me. She's not just anyone. She had been there for me several times. Right now, I want to return the favor. He tried not to look at my face for a moment. "Isla, it's not that easy. Just providing her with employment is not enough; other things need to be in place. I mean..., It's... everything else that comes with it."

"What else?" I asked.

He didn't answer. I pressed my hand to his chest. "Please. She won't stay long. She just needs a start. I can't stand by and watch her go down without a helping hand. He stared at the ceiling for a while, then at me. "I'll consider it," he said finally.

My heart softened. "I'll do it because of you. Because I love you." Relief hit me hard. leaning in, "thank you," I whispered.

Whatever hesitation I might have had was dispelled by the kindness in his eyes as he held my face passionately with his eyes locked on mine. His hands followed the curves of my body, and his touch made my flesh tingle, sending electric waves down my spine. I gave him a passionate and deep kiss.

Everything else disappeared-time, sound, and thought. It was just us. Flesh and heat. As if we were meant for this moment, our bodies moved in one as his breath blended with mine. When he entered me, I closed my eyes. Felt everything. Wanted everything. We held each other like the world didn't exist.

*****

The morning arrived too soon. I sat at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee in my hands. I felt lighter than I have in days. Fiona was going to get her shot. I told her about the job-an opening as executive secretary. She'd report directly to Lachlan.

Her whole face lit up. "Thank you, Isla. You're more than a friend." Fiona said in a low voice laced with emotion. "you're welcome," I replied, "I'm doing my best, dear." She went outside to prepare herself.

I sat there thinking and smiling stupidly. For the first time in a long while, everything appeared to be coming together. The sense of fulfillment was unimaginable.

I had a tap on the door. I put down my coffee and went to get it out. Fiona stood there, hair brushed, eyes bright. The same old spark. She murmured quietly as she entered the kitchen, "I just wanted to say thank you again." "I realized it's a lot."

"Of course, "Have you eaten?" I asked. She nodded. Then she looked at me, gaze dropping to the floor. "I didn't think you'd still care. After everything."

"We've been through too much for me not to care," I said. "You'll do great." She gave a small smile. "I'll head to the office now. I'll let you know how it goes."

I motioned to a staff member to summon the driver for her. I stood there watching the car drove away. Part of me was happy. Another part was worried. I hoped Lachlan could keep his distance. I trusted him-but trust had limits. And Fiona...hmmm, Fiona had history.

Still, Lachlan had always been honest with me. That's one thing that made this marriage work. We were waiting for our time, for our baby, and I held on to that hope like air.

My phone buzzed. It was Lachlan. "Hello, sweetheart." "Hey," I said.

"She's here. HR's setting up her paperwork."

"Really?" I grinned. "Didn't you ask for it?" he teased. I laughed. "Thank you." "Get over here. You've got paperwork too, Mrs. Conglomerate." I grabbed my bag and called the driver, saying, "on my way." I let the moment to settle as I got into the car.

Fiona had her shot. Lachlan kept his promise. And for now... that was enough.

(Fiona's POV)

The moment the car stopped in front of Lachlan Conglomerate; my stomach twisted. Glass, steel, and silence. Edinburgh's skyline towered above, but it was this building-the name carved into the sky like a threat-that made my lungs tighten.

The driver glanced at me. "We're here, ma'am."

Ma'am. God. I wasn't ready for that kind of weight.

"Thanks," I whispered, voice hoarse. I stepped out. The wind slapped my coat open. I fixed my eyes on the lettering across the doors-Lachlan Conglomerate-and muttered under my breath, "Fiona, you're here. Now stand the hell up."

I didn't feel brave. I felt like a liar.

Inside, everything gleamed. Polished floors and Sharp lines. The smell of clean money and colder power. The security guard greeted me. "Welcome to Lachlan Conglomerate."

I forced a smile. "Thanks."

At the front desk, I kept my tone even. "Hi. Fiona Stewart. I have an appointment." The receptionist barely looked up. She made a call. A young guy with dead eyes and a polite smile showed up to walk me down.

We didn't talk. HR was bright and sterile. The kind of place where bad decisions wear good suits. The manager slid a folder toward me. "Congratulations, Ms. Stewart. Executive secretary to the CEO."

I nodded. "Thank you."

My mouth said it. My soul curled up like it was choking. "You'll be trained for a week. Then you'll report directly to Mr. Lachlan MacGregor."

Lachlan.

That name scraped the back of my throat. I didn't flinch. Not on the outside. But every part of me remembered. His voice. His eyes. His wedding vows to my best friend. I had no business being here, but I didn't have a choice because I need this job badly.

But I was broken. Out of options. And Isla-God! Isla had offered this job like it was nothing. Like she hadn't just thrown me into the mouth of the man I tried so hard to avoid.

I stopped by her office after I left the HR office, like I said I would. She pulled me into a hug like no time had passed. "My dear friend, congratulations!" She commented brimming smile. I hugged her back. Stiff and guarded. Lying through my teeth with every breath.

Training went fast. Blindingly fast. Files, protocols and policies were studied intensely. I stayed late. Said yes to everything and even smiled when it hurt.

On Friday, my trainer gave me a knowing look. "You're ready. Good luck. You'll need it." I didn't ask why. I already knew. That weekend, Isla came to my room with that grin of hers. "How are you feeling about Monday?"

I forced a casual shrug. "I'm ready."

"Perfect! We're going shopping. The bills on me. My treat."

I blinked. "You've done enough," I murmured. She laughed it off. "Don't be silly."

I didn't argue again. We came home with bags-designer, delicate, dazzling. All the things I used to afford before everything collapsed. Now, they just felt like shackles made of silk.

Monday came. I wore the war paint: heels, lipstick, confidence I didn't feel.

8:00 a.m. sharp, I knocked. "Come in," he said.

Lachlan.

God!... I hadn't seen him in over a year not only when I met him in his mansion few days ago. Not really. Just flashes-wedding photos, social posts, birthday dinners I ghosted. But now here he was. Right in front of me.

He looked... untouchable.

Our eyes locked and his mouth twitched into a slow but unreadable smile. "You're the new secretary." I straightened my spine. "Yes, sir. Fiona Stewart."

"Good," he said. "Let's begin." And just like that, I was under him and working for him. The first few days? All was business.

He barely looked at me. Barely spoke unless necessary. But I felt the the tension. The silent pulse between every word. The way my skin buzzed when his hand brushed mine during a file handoff. Too long, too soft and too dangerous.

Then one afternoon, everything cracked. "Close the door," he said.

I did.

He seemed unsure of whether he wanted to save me or ruin me as he gazed out from the window. "You're doing an amazing job." He commended.

I kept my voice flat. "Thank you." He turned. Crossed his arms. Leaned against the desk. That look in his eyes-quiet chaos. "You're smart. You're sharp. And..."

Pause.

"And you're beautiful." The air snapped. My spine went rigid.

"Sir-"

"Lachlan," he said. "Call me Lachlan." I shook my head. "I'm here to work." His smile was darker now. "I want to take you to dinner."

Silence.

"You're married," I said, barely breathing. His jaw tightened. "It's complicated." I looked down. Fists clenched at my sides. "I can't," I said. "I won't."

He shrugged like it didn't burn. "Think about it."

I left fast. If I stayed a second longer, maybe I would've said yes. That night, I didn't sleep but ruminating on the happenings on the previous day at the office. Lachlan haunted every part of my mind and I can hear his voice and smell his scent. The way my name sounded different when he called me.

Damn it..., and the guilt-God, the guilt was unbearable. Because Isla didn't deserve this kind of betrayal from her best friend. Hmmm....

The next week, it got worse. His looks lingered. His tone dipped lower. Every interaction burned like it wanted to leave scars. Then Isla started visiting his office more. Smiling. Bringing food. Laughing like the world hadn't shifted.

And I-

I started disappearing. One morning, I stood in front of Lachlan's desk, notebook in hand, armor barely holding.

"You're dodging me," he said. "I'm busy." He didn't laugh. Not really. "I know this is wrong. But I can't stop thinking about you."

I swallowed. "You have a wife. A good one."

"I know but you won't understand," he said, voice cracking. "I didn't come here for this. I don't want this." I snapped. "I can't," I repeated. "Don't make me quit."

He stopped. Eyes narrowed. Then a slow nod. "Back to work." And that was it. The next few days were colder than winter. He barely looked at me. I buried myself in admin hell. Coffee runs. Schedules. Emails and routine.

But every time Isla walked in with her sunshine smile and homemade lasagna- A little part of me cracked, conscience was pricking me and I felt so bad inside me. Because I hated the way he looked at me.

This thing between us wasn't an accident anymore. It was a choice.

And if someone didn't stop it soon....

Someone was going to get hurt.