Regret

“When he got tired sucking my nipples and squeezing

my breasts…”

“He slowly traced his lips back up my neck before capturing my lips in another deeply kiss.”

“I responded to him with equal passion after a few moments. I felt he gently parted my thighs, and before I could realize what he was going to do next, he roughly thrust his hard cock inside me.”

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as shock and pain overwhelmed me. My whole body tensed, and for a moment, I could barely breathe. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to process what was happening, caught between fear, confusion, and the unfamiliar intensity of the moment.

His expression immediately changed when he realized what had happened.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I didn’t know you were still a virgin. I should have asked. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

I could only stare at him, overwhelmed by everything I was feeling. The pain, the embarrassment, and the sudden realization that neither of us had expected things to go this far.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, trying to steady my trembling voice. “Please… continue.”

He searched my eyes for a moment, making sure I truly meant it before gently taking my hand in his.

He remained still for a moment, watching my expression carefully. When he saw that I was no longer hurt, he gently brushed a strand of hair away from my face.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

I nodded, taking a slow breath as I held his gaze. A soft moan escaped my lips as the room fell quiet, and for a moment, neither of us said another word. He pulled me closer, and I closed my eyes, letting the tension between us slowly fade. Quiet gasps escaped me as I surrendered to the intensity of the moment.

For a while, I tried to convince myself that I could still stop. That I could pull away, walk out of the room, and pretend that none of this had happened.

But I didn't.

Something inside me had already given in, and with every passing moment, the voice of reason became harder to hear. I knew there would be consequences when the night was over. I knew I would have to face the guilt waiting for me afterward.

Yet, despite everything I knew was wrong, I stayed.

I let myself forget my doubts, my fear, and even the promise I had made to myself. For that night, I stopped thinking about tomorrow and simply allowed myself to remain in the moment.

That night, I allowed myself to surrender to him repeatedly, even though it was supposed to be a night I spent with my husband.

When the night finally grew quiet, I remained beside him, staring at the ceiling as the reality of what I had done slowly settled over me.

The warmth I had felt moments ago began to disappear, replaced by a heaviness in my chest.

I turned my head and looked at him.

He seemed calm, almost as though nothing had changed. But for me, everything had.

Morning came quietly.

I slowly opened my eyes as pale morning light filtered through the curtains. For a few seconds, I simply stared at the ceiling, trying to remember where I was.

Then everything came rushing back.

The memories of the previous night settled heavily in my mind, and I immediately felt a knot form in my stomach.

I remained still beneath the blanket, afraid that even the smallest movement might bring back more memories than I was ready to face. My body felt tired, but it was the heaviness in my chest that troubled me more.

A cool breeze slipped through the slightly open window, brushing against my skin. The crisp morning air of Tagaytay was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the room.

I pulled the blanket closer around myself and took a deep breath.

What had I done?

I slowly turned my head.

The stranger was still asleep beside me, his face peaceful as though the night had left no trace of what had happened between us.

I stared at him for a long moment.

There was something unsettling about seeing him like that. Last night, everything had felt complicated and overwhelming. This morning, reality had returned—and with it came the painful reminder that I had a husband waiting for me.

I looked away.

I couldn't stay here.

Whatever had happened between us, I couldn't allow myself to remain trapped in that moment forever. Eventually, I would have to leave this room and return to the life I had left behind.

I carefully pushed the blanket aside and sat on the edge of the bed. I stayed there for a moment, gathering myself before standing.

Without making a sound, I picked up my clothes and got dressed.

Before leaving, I looked back at him one last time.

He was still asleep.

For a brief moment, I wanted to say something a goodbye, perhaps, or anything that would give meaning to what had happened.

But no words came.

Maybe it was better this way.

Whatever happened between us belonged to that night. If I walked away without saying anything, perhaps I could convince myself that it had never meant anything more.

I quietly gathered my things and walked toward the door.

My hand settled on the doorknob.

I paused.

Then I took one final breath and opened the door.

The cool morning air greeted me as I stepped outside.

I hugged my arms around myself and walked toward the main road. A few people were already waiting along the roadside while vehicles passed by one after another.

After several minutes, a taxi finally approached.

I raised my hand, and the driver slowed down beside me.

I stood there for a moment before opening the door.

Part of me wanted to go home immediately—to leave Tagaytay behind and pretend the previous night had been nothing more than a terrible mistake.

But another part of me was afraid of what would happen once I was alone with my thoughts.

I took a deep breath and got into the back seat.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

I gave him the address of my condominium.

As the taxi pulled away, I looked through the window. The familiar view of Tagaytay slowly disappeared behind me.

I rested my head against the glass and closed my eyes.

I was going home.

But deep down, I already knew I wasn't returning as the same woman who had arrived the night before.

---

When I finally arrived at my condo, the weight I had carried throughout the journey seemed to become even heavier.

I stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind me.

For several seconds, I simply stood there.

Everything looked exactly as I had left it.

The furniture was in its usual place. The curtains were slightly open, allowing the morning light to spill across the room. Nothing had changed.

Except me.

I slipped my bag from my shoulder and placed it on the table beside my bed.

Then I stood there in silence.

Home.

I should have felt relieved.

Instead, I felt strangely empty.

My eyes wandered around the familiar room, but my mind was already somewhere else.

Tagaytay.

The night before.

Him.

I immediately shook my head.

“No.”

I didn't want to think about it.

Not anymore.

I walked toward the bathroom and closed the door behind me. A moment later, the sound of running water filled the room.

I stood beneath the warm shower and closed my eyes.

For the first time since leaving the rest house, I allowed myself to breathe.

The warmth helped ease the tension in my body, but it couldn't quiet my thoughts.

No matter how hard I tried to push the memories away, they remained.

I pressed a hand against my forehead and sighed.

I had come home.

But I realized something I didn't want to admit.

I hadn't really left that night behind.

I had brought it home with me.

And no matter how badly I wanted to forget what happened in Tagaytay, a small, frightening part of me already knew I never would.