Regretting You (Lionheart Academy Book 3), page 1
Regretting You
T. Ashleigh
Copyright © 2023 by T. Ashleigh
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
Cover Designer: Ariadna Basulto
Editor: Proofs by Polly
Formatter: Willow Thomas
Regretting You - playlist by T. Ashleigh | Spotify
Follow Me Bring Me- The Horizon
Bored- Billie Eilish
Cruel Kids- Yungblud
Honest Kyndal- Inskeep
Think about me- JXDN
Lie To Me- 5 Seconds Of Summer
Always Been You- Jessie Murphy
Worst of You- Maisie Peter's
Hate Me- Juice WRLD &Ellie Goulding
Now or Never- Halsey
Ruin My Life- Zara Larsson
In My Veins- Andrew Belle
Arcade- Duncan Laurance
Monsters- Timeflies & Katie Sky
Carry You- Ruelle & Fleurie
Care enough for two- ashley Kutcher
Broke Me First- Conor Maynard
Shameless- Camila Cabello
I'd hate me too- Gavn!
At Least- Jessica Baio
Emotionless- Ashley kutcher
To my dad
“I miss you a little. A little too much, a little too often, and a whole lot more each day.”
Rest peacefully.
Blurb
Tyler-
Some days I wish I’d never met Gregory Baldwin. Then there are days when I feel like I’ll die if he’s away for too long.
It’s like I’m addicted to him. Addicted to the attention he gives me and what he does to me in secret. He has lips made for sin and a body I can’t keep my hands off of, but mostly, I know he has a heart. That’s what keeps me coming back.
Now he’s cruel, malicious, possessive… nothing like the boy I once knew. And yet, deep down, I know that guy is still there under this bad boy exterior. He has to be, or everything we’ve been through is pointless.
Being with him feels like dying and surviving all at once. It’s wild, manic, and soul-crushing, but it’s us. He’s all I’ve ever had and the only thing I’ll ever want.
Because even when I hate him…
I love him ten times harder.
Greg-
I’m broken beyond repair, too fucked up to be saved. My mind fights demons daily, while the shattered organ in my chest only causes me pain.
I wish I could just end it all. Say goodbye to this miserable existence.
Only, to leave this life would mean leaving him, and that’s not something I can do.
Once I made a promise to a boy that I plan on keeping. The years may have dragged us apart, and I know he hates me now, but that’s okay. I don’t blame him; I hate myself, too.
Regardless of the animosity, one thing remains the same: Tyler.
He’s the constant in a haze of self-destruction. The one who somehow, after everything, is still there for me, no matter how badly I mess up.
I don’t deserve him. I never did, but I’ll never let him go either.
He is mine, and I am his.
Content Warnings
Homophobia
Depression
Depressive thoughts
Loss of a parent/character death
Underage drinking
Drug mentions
Bullying
Mental Illness
Complicated Grief
Suicidal thoughts
This book is intended for 18+ audience due to sexual and graphic content. If you have any questions, email me at Authort.ashleigh@gmail.com
Introduction
Regretting You is book three in the Lionheart Academy series. This interconnected series can be read as a standalone, as each book revolves around a different couple. However, reading them in order is recommended due to world building and background information you learn over the course of the series.
Contents
Prologue
How it started:
The beginning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Start of Senior Year
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Also By T. Ashleigh
Stalk T. Ashleigh
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Greg
For a long time, I thought I’d come back from the shell of a person I’ve become. I thought maybe, just maybe, the old me would revive and come bursting through the depressive fog I’ve hidden under for so long, ready to be set free…
It’s been three years, and that hasn’t happened yet.
Depression is a real bitch. Then tack on the bit of anger and resentment I carry because why not just add to the never-ending shit pile that is my life?
Three years.
It’s been three years since I lost my mom, and nothing has been the same. My online therapist would say ‘Just take it day by day,’ ‘Your mom would want you to be happy,’ ‘Healing takes time.’
Well, fuck time and fuck that quack job of a therapist too.
I bring the bottle of vodka to my lips, enjoying the burn as the liquid slides down my throat.
‘No one said life was easy,’ he’d said during our last phone call.
I hung up.
Yeah, no one said it’d be easy, but no one said it was complete and utter hell either. Like how about a fucking warning?
I’m not naïve. Bad things happen to good people all the time. I’m just saying, you never think it’ll happen to you…
Until it does.
And that’s what I’m talking about. I wish someone had warned me about how utterly painful loss could be. I received so many sorrys, so many hugs, and so many texts of worry. Yet not one single person explained the process of grief to me. I knew the days would be hard and the nights would be bad, but over time I had assumed it’d get better… It just had to get better.
Right?
That’s what I thought, anyway. Except it’s not.
Three years.
It’s been three years and I still feel like I’m bleeding out. Why did no one tell me the true depth of this insanity? That there would be days when I ached so deeply it took everything in me to get out of bed. That my head would pound from the soundless tears I tried to hide in the hopes of not disturbing my roommate. That nothing in the world would smell the same, taste the same, sound the same. That something as simple as taking a shower would be a giant feat. That there would be days when I was so clouded with anger that I hurt the only people in the world that ever meant anything to me…
No one tells you how isolating depression is. How it makes you do things to push people away. How it alienates you. It’s a disease that’s eating away at me from the inside out. I know this. I know I need help and yet I won’t ask for it because drowning somehow just feels easier than cracking open my fucked up head and letting everyone see what’s inside.
I’ll blow off my friends, blow off my doctors, blow off the thought of medication because fuck all that.
I’m fine…
That’s what I say. I’m fine.
But I’m not.
It’s like I’m sitting on the precipice of an explosion. My instincts are telling me to run like hell and get out of dodge before all this shit turns sideways; only I don’t want to move. Instead, I welcome it with open arms and let the destruction wrap itself around me in a smothering vise, taking from me until there’s nothing left.
I lean back against the fallen log and take a toke from my lit but forgotten joint, staring unseeing at the water. It’s been like this for days. I’m numb. I’m tired. I’m defeated. And I feel like there’s nothing left.
“Greg.”
I hear my name, but I don’t turn toward the sound. I can’t. Well, I can, but I don’t care to. No one wants me anyway, not really, and I don’t blame them, not after everything I’ve done to them all.
I flick the burnt-out joint to the dirt before tipping back the bottle.
I’m a fuckup. That’s all I do. I fuck up and hurt people. I should just disappear. It’d be better for everyone if I did. Better for him.
Tyler.
The only person in the world who has the power to break me open and destroy the last bit of my battered heart there is left. So what did I do? I destroyed him first. I had to. It’s not like I could let him in, could let him get close enough to see how truly empty and useless I am inside.
“Greg.” There goes my name again. It sounds louder this time, more frantic, but I don’t have it in me to respond.
I tip back the bottle again, wanting to take a few more gulps, but it’s empty. That’s strange. I just opened it. Or at least, I thought I had. I drop it down, looking out to the water, only to realize it’s now dark too. When the fuck did that happen? Was there a glitch in the matrix? The absurdity of my thoughts causes me to laugh out loud.
Okay, it’s time to go. I need to get something to eat and sleep because I’ve clearly lost my mind on top of everything else.
Moving to stand, I trip over my legs and fall onto my ass. Damn, I feel heavy. Everything feels heavy, even my eyes. I blink lazily, trying to gain some clarity. Maybe I should just take a nap here first.
Leaning back, I expect to fall into the log only to meet the hard, cool ground instead. Fuck, that’s going to hurt tomorrow. Not like I'll be able to tell though. Everything hurts every day anyway.
But not right now. Not with the alcohol and weed coursing through my veins. Warm. I’m warm inside. I like that feeling. It’s nice. It’s like being with Tyler. Warm, safe, home. A security blanket.
Tyler. I smile when I think about his big blue eyes, sweet, pouty lips, and sassy attitude. He’s too good for me. Always has been and always will be. He’s everything I ever wanted, and in another life, maybe he’d truly be mine.
But sadly, this isn’t a fairytale and I’m not a prince, so happy-ever-afters don’t exist.
“Greg!” Tyler’s closer, sounding almost on top of me now. I know that voice so well. I’ve heard it hiss in anger and cry out in passion.
I blink, wanting to see the face of an angel. My princess. I don’t deserve to look at him, but it doesn’t stop me from seeking him out. Too bad my eyes shut almost instantly. It’s okay though, he’ll be there in my dreams like he always is. At least we’re happy there.
A beat passes. Two. Three.
Hands.
Hands running across my stomach, grabbing onto my shoulders and giving me a shake. “Greg, please, open your eyes. I need you to look at me.” His soft sobs break through my haze, and it makes me frown. I don’t want to make him cry anymore. I promised myself after the last time that I’d never hurt him again.
Tyler.
I mean to say it aloud, only I can’t because my lips aren’t cooperating. Fuck. I’m so drunk. Completely fucked up.
“Greg?” He’s panicking, and I want to reassure him, but I can't. I'm slipping away; everything just feels too good. “Greg.”
Don’t cry, princess….
It’ll be okay…
I love you…
That’s the last thought I have before everything goes black.
How it started:
The beginning
Chapter 1
Tyler
9 years old
I’ve always liked pretty things.
Dolls, dresses, bows, sparkles, flowers. I love them all, but boys aren’t allowed to like pretty things. At least, that’s what Dad says. That’s so stupid. Who made that rule anyway? I don’t get it. What’s wrong with the color pink? It’s bright and bubbly and makes me feel happy inside. Who cares if it’s a ‘girl’ color?
I sigh, fastening the pink skirt on Barbie's waist before holding it up for my friend Jenny to see. “Do you like this with the blue shirt, or should I go with white instead?”
She purses her lips and taps her chin before reaching out and grabbing the glittery one. “I think you should do this one instead, and don’t forget the pink shoes. She needs those too.”
I look it over, nodding my head in agreement. “Good thinking,” I say, changing the top and adding the shoes.
Wednesdays are my favorite day of the week because my parents work late and my nanny has class, so I get to go home with Jenny after school. I love Jenny’s house. Well, I mostly love her room. It’s huge and has everything I wish mine did. Pink-painted walls, a pink bed, a giant Barbie house, and a dress-up corner filled with every princess dress and matching plastic heels ever made.
We already played dress-up today. I'm currently sitting on the floor wearing Aurora’s pink dress—that’s my favorite color—silver princess heels, and a matching crown. My hair is getting long, just past my chin finally, and I love it. I can almost pull it up in a ponytail! Mom keeps trying to get me to cut it, but I don’t want to. I want long, pretty hair like Jenny’s.
I grab the mini brush, dragging it down Barbie’s hair before holding her up for Jenny again. “What do you think now? Is this better?” Still unsure if it’s good enough.
She looks up from what she’s working on, a huge smile blooming across her face. “It’s perfect. I think it matches your dress better too. Do you think mine looks good?”
I don’t know why she asks me; she has a good eye for this stuff. I look over at her Barbie, nodding at the pink and yellow flower dress and white heels. “She looks great.”
Then we play ‘runway’ in her Barbie Dream House. I don’t like this game much, but it’s Jenny’s favorite, so I don’t mind. We take turns, one of us pretending to be the model while the other pretends to take the pictures. Jenny makes the best clicking sound for her camera. She says it’s because of her lisp, but I like it… I like the way she talks.
The kids at school are mean to us. They call me names because I’m too skinny, too short, and have longer hair, and they pick on Jenny because of the way her voice is. We hate school. Well, I like the art part, but that class never lasts long enough.
“Do you wanna be the cameraman this time?”
I look at Jenny and shake my head. “Can we play something else now?”
She gives me a small shrug before setting down her doll in the house. “What do you want to do?”
“Want to have a tea party?” I ask excitedly. I love Jenny’s tea set. It’s one of my favorite things to play.
“Let’s do it.” She pulls me toward the small table in the corner, and I sit down, grabbing the mini teacup from the plate immediately. “I got you something,” she says, going over to her jewelry box before coming to sit beside me. “Here, let me see your hand.” I do so easily, holding out my hand to her. She wraps a silver bracelet around my wrist, clipping it on and giving me a big smile. “Now we each have one. Only mine says ‘Best’ and yours says ‘Friends.’” She gives her wrist a shake to show it off.
I bring the bracelet to my face and smile at the princess crown with the word ‘Friends’ in the middle in pink writing. It’s absolutely perfect, even though it’s a little too big. I’ve always wanted pretty jewelry. “I love it,” I say, then launch forward and wrap her in a hug. “Thank you so much.”
She hugs me tightly, and I hear the laughter in her voice when she pulls away. “You’re welcome,” she replies with a giggle. “Now you need this.”
She passes me a pink boa and I put it on, getting into my princess character. “Do you want sugar with your tea?” I tease, raising my voice a little, trying to mimic a fancy accent.
Holding her teacup out for me, she nods before saying, “I would love some sugar, please.”
I grab the little spoon on the table, then open the sugar and pretend to scoop some up before dumping it into each of our cups.
“Thank you.” Jenny brings the cup to her lips and pretends to blow on it before taking a sip. “I love tea.”
Her slurping noises cause me to laugh, and I mimic her. “So good.”
She laughs too and we go back and forth, drinking, and ‘eating’ her play scones. We get so lost in playing that I forget to keep an eye on the time. I forget that I have to be back in my boy clothes before my dad picks me up.
