Capítulo 4: Regret

Back at Emily's place, I found myself enduring her relentless nagging as she went on and on about the video circulating on the internet. To add fuel to the fire, I had gone live burning all the pictures and gifts I had received from Jackson. It was a cathartic release, but now the consequences were sinking in.

Eventually, Emily gave up her attempts to reason with me and switched gears to damage control. "This is a plane ticket to the Maldives, go lay low for some time," she said, handing me my passport, the ticket, and a small suitcase she had packed.

Taking her advice, I donned a wig and fake mustache, determined not to be caught by the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

Walking on the beautiful sand of the Maldives, a huge sun hat shielding me from the scorching sun, I gazed out at the stunning sunset casting its reflection on the calm waters. Clad in white shorts and an unbuttoned white shirt, I couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over me. It had been ages since I had taken a moment to simply enjoy the beauty of nature; my life had been consumed by work and Jackson.

As I stood there, lost in thought, the sound of a child's laughter caught my attention. Turning towards the sound, I watched with a pang of longing as a little girl was lifted up by her father, their joy infectious. It reminded me of the family I had dreamed of having, the family Jackson had tossed aside so easily.

Suddenly, the serene atmosphere no longer held its appeal. With a heavy heart, I made my way back to the beautiful resort. Entering the room, I collapsed onto the comfortable bed, exhaustion weighing heavily on me. The events of the past few days had taken their toll, and I promptly fell into a deep sleep, seeking solace in the oblivion of dreams.

The news of the renowned model Ivan Orlov's sudden passing at the age of 33 shocked the world. "Found dead in his sleep while on vacation at a luxurious island," the news anchor's voice droned on as Emily sat in her living room, her eyes fixed on the television screen. "Investigation has proven there was no foul play involved, and he passed away peacefully in his sleep…."

With a heavy heart, Emily reached over and angrily turned off the TV. Exhaustion and immense sorrow were palpable on her face, the weight of the loss pressing down on her.

As the news settled in, Emily found herself thrust into a role she never expected. She was now the sole inheritor of Ivan's fortune, a responsibility that weighed heavily on her shoulders. In addition, Ivan had designated a generous college fund for her son, a gesture of his care and thoughtfulness.

Days passed, and Emily found herself immersed in the arrangements for Ivan's memorial service. The outpouring of condolences from fans, a few coworkers, and brand representatives highlighted just how lonely Ivan had been in his final days. The absence of close friends or family was stark, and it left Emily with a deep sense of sorrow for the loneliness Ivan must have endured.

As the memorial service approached, Emily's grief turned to anger when she saw the event being turned into a mockery by some models who showed up hoping to gain publicity. Their presence felt disrespectful, and Emily couldn't contain her fury.

Her anger reached its peak when she spotted Jackson among the attendees. The man who had betrayed Ivan and caused him so much pain had the audacity to show his face at the memorial. Without hesitation, Emily marched over to him and promptly kicked him out, refusing to allow him to tarnish Ivan's memory any further.

In that moment, amidst her sorrow and anger, Emily vowed to protect Ivan's legacy and memory with everything she had. His passing had left a void in her life, but she was determined to ensure that his memory was honored with dignity and respect.

Jackson mechanically eats the bland food in front of him, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. For the past few months, ever since Ivan's passing, he had been unable to feel anything but a deep emptiness. He glanced at his parents and his wife, their faces blurred in his vision.

Looking at his wife, he noticed how thin she was. What he once found attractive about her now felt jarring, a painful reminder of what he had lost. He often found himself searching for traces of Ivan in her, but she was not Ivan. She could never be.

His mind drifted back to Ivan, the man he had loved and betrayed. How he longed to turn back time, to have Ivan's beautiful blue eyes look at him with adoration once more. The last memory he had of Ivan was the anger and hurt reflected in his eyes in the church, a memory that haunted him day and night.

"I wish I could get back in time and beg him for forgiveness," Jackson whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the din of the dining room. "Had I known that's the last time I saw him again..."

The thought of Ivan's once lively body now cold and lifeless destroyed something inside Jackson. Unable to bear the weight of his guilt and grief any longer, he pushed his spoon aside and stood up abruptly. His parents and wife looked at him with concern, but their words fell on deaf ears.

Without a word, Jackson made his way to the bathroom and dropped to his knees. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably, his body racked with sobs. It hurt so much, the pain of losing Ivan consuming him from the inside out.

After what felt like an eternity, Jackson composed himself enough to stand. The weight of his grief still heavy on his shoulders, he grabbed his car keys and headed out, ignoring the cries and calls from his family.

Driving aimlessly for hours, the road blurred beneath him as he sped down the highway. In his heart, he carried a desperate hope to join Ivan, to escape the pain and emptiness that now defined his existence. Each mile brought him closer to the edge, his mind consumed by thoughts of Ivan and the irreversible damage he had caused.

Eventually, Jackson found himself in an apartment. It was a place Emily didn't know about, hidden away from prying eyes. She had already cleared out the other properties, but this one remained untouched, a secret haven where memories of Ivan still lingered.

Walking through the familiar rooms, Jackson felt a pang of nostalgia wash over him. This was their first apartment, a place filled with laughter and love. He had bought it as an anniversary gift for Ivan, a symbol of their commitment to each other.

As he walked around the one-bedroom apartment, he came across a picture displayed prominently on the dresser. It was a photo of him and Ivan on his graduation day, Ivan's bright smile lighting up the room. Jackson's heart ached at the sight, memories flooding back with overwhelming force.

Contrary to how the world viewed him as a villain, Jackson had loved Ivan with every fiber of his being. He meant every word he had ever said to him, every promise of a future together.

Walking towards the bedroom, Jackson opened the closet and found Ivan's old shirt. It was a shirt that had once been his, now a poignant reminder of the man he had lost;

"Like it?" Ivan's voice echoed in his mind, the memory so vivid it felt like yesterday.

"Ivan, I don't know if I can accept this," Jackson had replied, his heart overflowing with love for the man before him.

"It's an investment," Ivan had said, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he pulled Jackson to sit on the bed.

"When you're all big and huge and such a big shot. Take me all around the world and give me my home," Ivan had teased, his accent slipping through in his English.

"I'll give you the world, Ivan," Jackson had promised, his heart swelling with love.

"I know you will," Ivan had said, planting a gentle kiss on Jackson's forehead before dragging him to the tiny kitchen.

The memory was so vivid, so real, that Jackson could almost feel Ivan's presence beside him. But then reality crashed down on him once more, the pain so immense he could hardly breathe.

"I'm so sorry, Ivan," Jackson whispered to the empty room, his voice choked with emotion.

He grabbed the shirt, the fabric faint with Ivan's scent, and held it close to his chest. Tears streamed down his face as he clung to the shirt, hoping to feel even a ghost of Ivan in his arms once more.

In that moment, alone in the apartment filled with memories of their love, Jackson allowed himself to grieve. Grieve for the man he had lost, for the love they had shared, and for the future that would never be.

Millionaire Jackson Smith was notorious for his fleeting marriages and romances with blonde and blue-eyed models, all in a futile attempt to find his lost lover, Ivan Ororv. Rumors circulated that Jackson had commissioned a large oil painting of the beautiful male model, which he would stare at for hours, drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

Despite all his efforts, Ivan Ororv would never return, leaving Jackson to spend the rest of his days searching for traces of his former lover in the arms of others. The painting stood as a haunting reminder of the love he had lost, a bittersweet memory that would forever remain out of reach.