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2025-11-07 04:46:13Julian's POV
The night grows deeper. All of the lights in the hallway fade, leaving behind a soft glow.Maximilian's room is where Ophelia speaks softly as she reads him a story. Why?She emits a gentle, rhythmically slow sound that sounds like hypnotic dreamtromance.Through the small opening, I am watching my son's door from afar. The tiger-like creature holding his favorite pet is already making Maximilian feel sleepy. Ophelia pulls the blanket up to his chest with a smile on her lips and whispers softly,“Good night, sweetheart."The door closes quietly. I hear Ophelia whisper in her ear, "He's finally asleep.”After a brief respite, I proceed to walk towards the bedroom.She appears to be in a nervous state upon our entry, then retreats to her side of the bed. I won't stop her. I can’t think tonight. Maybe I’m just tired?'Even when the room is quiet and the lights are off, my eyes remain open.Something's missing. I don't know what. Th
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Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 93
Vivienne's POV Time moved slowly. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours. I opened my eyes again, staring at the same white ceiling with a small stain in the corner, the mark I always counted to distract myself. One, two, three I stopped counting when dizziness came, pressing against my temples from the inside.I took a deep breath, remembering Julian’s voice that morning. His firm tone, the way he stood beside me without asking whether I needed him or not. He was simply there. And for the first time in a long while, I let myself accept that presence without feeling guilty.There was a soft knock against the curtain wall. Another nurse peeked in, offering a brief smile before returning to her tasks. The world in this room kept moving, indifferent to how heavy my body felt now. But I was still here. Still conscious. Still holding on.I imagine Maximilian outside, sitting in the waiting room with Julian. Maybe they’re drawing. Maybe Maximilian i
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 92
Vivienne's POV Julian glanced briefly at the rearview mirror, his gaze softening. He didn’t say anything, but the silence felt full, not empty. I swallowed, holding back the emotions that suddenly rose. That simple picture house, beach, the three of us felt like a prayer drawn in crayon.I turned my gaze back to the window. Sunlight reflected off the surface of the sea in the distance, shimmering calmly. I remembered why I’d chosen to live near the beach: the sound of the waves that demanded nothing from me, only existed. But today, I realized that the presence of other people in this car gave me a different kind of strength.Julian slowed the car as we entered a busier area. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, then relaxed again. “If you feel dizzy or nauseous,” he said softly, almost in a whisper, “tell me.”I nodded. “Okay.”I didn’t know what would happen after the therapy later. I didn’t know how my body would react, or how long I could keep smi
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 91
Vivienne's POV “Are you ready?” Julian asked at last.I nodded. Ready wasn’t the right word, but I had no other choice except to move forward. I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs. Fear was coiled tightly in my chest, but there was something else too. I wasn’t going alone today.Maximilian tugged my hand gently. “Mom, I’ll sit in the back, okay? So I can see the ocean.”I smiled. “Okay.”Julian opened the door and stepped aside. I walked out, feeling the change in temperature and light. The apartment hallway felt longer than usual, or maybe my steps were slower. Every second felt precious, as if I wanted to hold time still so it wouldn’t rush me toward the place I knew would drain what little strength I had left.In front of the elevator, Julian stood a little closer. Not touching, but close enough for me to know he was there. I didn’t look at him. I kept my eyes on the floor, steadying my breath.The drive to the hospital was quiet,
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 90
Vivienne's POV That morning, the air in the apartment felt heavier than usual. Maybe because I knew what was waiting for me: another chemotherapy session. My body had already learned the exhaustion that would come afterward. But today, I didn’t want to let the mood turn gloomy. I wanted Maximilian to see his mother as strong, even though sometimes it felt like I was only pretending to be.I was putting a few things into a small bag of water, a light cardigan, and a book I almost never had the energy to read when the sound of small footsteps approached.“Mom’s going out again?” Maximilian’s voice was soft but clear.I turned and saw him standing in the doorway of the bedroom. His brown hair was messy, his cheeks still warm from sleep, but his eyes were already filled with a worry no seven-year-old should have.“Yes, sweetheart. Mom just needs to go for a little while,” I said as gently as I could. “You’ll stay with Dad first, okay?”Before Maximilian cou
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 89
Vivienne's POV I nodded. “He’s incredible. I thought he’d be angry that I left but instead he said,” My voice broke. “He loves so easily.”Julian looked at me for a long time. “That’s just who he is.”I held Maximilian’s hand, trying to contain everything inside me.In that moment, I realized:No matter how flawed my reasons were for leaving. No matter how much pain I carried. No matter how heavy my regret became.Julian still hadn’t moved from his place. He remained crouched in front of our little fort, watching Maximilian sleep as if he were something incredibly fragile and precious. Light from the window reflected on his face, softening his gaze more than I remembered.I stroked Maximilian’s hair once more, then looked back at Julian. “He was sleepy earlier, but he insisted on waiting for you,” I whispered.Julian nodded slowly. “I noticed.”His voice was heavy whether from exhaustion or something else.I carefully shifted my body,
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 88
Vivienne's POV I stroked his hair, feeling its texture, making sure this moment was real. I didn’t know how long my body would hold up. I didn’t know how all of this would end. But inside this small fort, I knew one thing: my presence mattered.Maximilian shifted closer. His hand gripped the hem of my shirt again, just like he used to. I felt the small tug not demanding, just asking.I stroked his hair again. “Yes. Mom isn’t going anywhere.”We stayed inside the little fort. Maximilian laid his head on my lap, his eyes growing heavy. I ran my fingers through his hair, watching his breathing slowly become steady.“I like Mom,” he murmured softly before falling asleep. “Mom smells nice.”My heart melted instantly.Then I kissed Maximilian’s hair. “Mom’s here.” I whispered.I stayed there, not moving, even when my legs began to ache and my back slowly throbbed. I didn’t dare shift even a little. Afraid of waking him. Afraid this moment would shatter lik
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