Love Gone: Regret Too Late

I was such a coward. I didn't even have the guts to storm in and demand an explanation. With trembling fingers, I scooped the pregnancy test off the floor and turned to run.

It wasn't until I cleared the building's main entrance that I finally remembered to breathe. Crouching beside a flower bed, I dry-heaved, but nothing came up.

My palms were slick with sweat as I crumpled the medical report into a tight ball and shoved it into my bag. I wandered the streets like a lost soul, walking until darkness fell before finally heading home.

The house was empty; my husband, Brian Stanton, hadn't returned. As I was changing out of my shoes, I found myself walking toward his study, drawn by some strange impulse.

He usually never allowed me inside, and true to my word, I hadn't set foot in there for five years. But this time, the door was unlocked.

I pushed it open. The desk was spotless, with only an old cell phone sitting on it. I plugged it into a charging cable and powered it on, finding the chat history of only one person.

The top message was a voice memo from four years ago. I tapped it open, and a woman's laughter drifted through the speaker.

"Reginald learned to say 'Daddy' today. Do you want to hear it?"

I scrolled through the records. For an entire year, Brian had been a constant fixture in the lives of Olivia Parker and their son, Reginald Stanton, watching him grow without a single day's interruption.

Daily morning and night greetings, weekly visits meticulously arranged, Reginald's first steps, his first day of preschool... Brian had saved every single milestone.

I placed the phone where I had found it, sank to the floor, and let my tears fall silently.

Five years ago, Olivia had shown up at our wedding, heavily pregnant. Brian had dragged her away, returning hours later covered in blood. He had collapsed before me, tightly gripping my hands.

"Lena, I'm sorry I made a stupid mistake. But rest assured, I've taken care of her. She'll never appear in our lives again. Please, just give me one more chance."

I had told myself that all men made those kinds of mistakes, so I gave him a chance. I never could have imagined that he hadn't settled anything at all. He had simply hidden them away.

Instead of confronting him, I left the phone in its place.

It was very late when Brian finally came home. He didn't smell like alcohol; instead, a faint scent of cake lingered on him. Seeing me sitting on the couch, he walked over and wrapped his arms around me.

"Honey, why are you sitting here all alone?" he said softly. "It's too cold out here. Let me carry you up to the bedroom."

My tone was entirely flat. "Yesterday was our anniversary. Did you remember?"

He froze for a second, then quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry, honey. It completely slipped my mind. I'll order you a gift right now. Don't be mad."

I pushed him away. "No need. What's past is past."

Ignoring his reaction, I turned and walked upstairs. Back in the bedroom, I sent a text message to my best friend: [I want a divorce.]

The message had barely been sent when the bedroom door was pushed open. Brian walked in and pulled me straight into his embrace.

"Honey, don't be upset," he murmured. "I really just forgot because I've been overwhelmed with so many business dinners lately."

An unfamiliar perfume drifted from his clothes. Unable to hold it in, I shoved him away, doubled over, and dry-heaved.

Brian stood frozen in place, his face darkening inch by inch. He sulked, "I already told you the truth. I was out entertaining clients and forgot. What are you trying to make a scene about now? After all these years, haven't I treated you well enough?"

His words struck a nerve. I looked up at him, tears pooling in my eyes, but no words came out.