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2025-11-14 07:16:43Julian's POV
The phone in my hand displayed the same message again. I took a deep breath and dialed Vivienne's number again, but the result was the same, no answer. Her once gentle voice was now replaced by a cold dial tone that felt like a slap in the chest."Pick up, Vivienne." I muttered slowly, but even my own voice sounded desperate.I paced around my office, my mind reeling. This afternoon, I'd received news from the hospital that Vivienne had been discharged. They'd told me with a tone of surprise, as patients aren't supposed to have fully recovered yet, but they'd insisted on an early discharge."She said she wanted to rest somewhere else, sir," the nurse said on the phone. "We can't keep her because the signatures are already complete."Somewhere else? Where? I clenched my jaw, trying to hold back the anger that was starting to creep in.I stared at my desk, where the farewell letter I'd found a few nights ago at the hotel l
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Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 50
Vivienne's POV The nurse carefully took off the equipment ensuring I didn't experience any discomfort. I noticed a pull on my skin as the needle was drawn out. The tiny puncture was quickly protected with a bandage. Something basic yet it genuinely made me sense my vulnerability.“What is your general feeling?" she inquired.I raised my shoulders a bit. "Of like being pulled from, within " I answered truthfully.The nurse gazed at me with a compassion that only those who witness pain possess. "If you start feeling very dizzy or nauseous, head to the ER right away. For the time being you may return home. Remember to stay well-hydrated.”Home.That single term carried weight.I gradually stood up from the chair. My head felt a bit dizzy. I pushed myself to remain upright. My left leg trembled briefly. I gained balance by leaning on the nearby small table. The nurse naturally stepped forward to assist. I lifted my hand in
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 49
Vivienne's POV The voice returned more. Now dimmer, as though distant. Like an unwillingness to disappear.I pressed my lip between my teeth restraining the sob that almost escaped.I wish to embrace that child. I want to say sorry. I want to explain that I didn’t leave due to lack of love. I left because I loved him deeply and feared becoming a burden.However it’s too late now isn’t it?I pressed my hand against my chest. The region near my ribs felt weighty like a rock was resting there. My breathing sped up briefly then returned to normal.The drug continued to enter my bloodstream. Gradually a strange feeling spread from my arm up to my shoulder. It was like a chill creeping along.I took a breath out attempting to steady my nerves.However my body started sending signs.My hands clammy, fingertips buzzing and at the rear of my skull an increasing unease, yet unmistakable.“Mom.”
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 48
Vivienne's POV I make my move, toward the entrance of the chemotherapy room. Each moment drags on as though the universe is granting me a chance to retreat. Yet I refuse to turn.I enter.The chemotherapy area feels chilly more than I had expected. Several cushy chairs are arranged in rows with a few occupied by patients hooked up to their IV lines. Some are immersed in books, others view content on their tablets while a few just shut their eyes and focus on their breathing amid their emotions.I gulp. This is genuine. Everything here is genuine.The nurse requests that I take a seat and lift my sleeve. The IV needle is inserted smoothly. The chemotherapy medication bag is suspended above me.“If you start feeling queasy or lightheaded, inform me immediately," she says softly.I nod more. I've lost track of how many times I've nodded today.As the drug begins coursing through my vein I sense a chill radiating from m
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 47
Vivienne's POVToday marks the day I have been dreading for weeks. The day I must begin chemotherapy.I am standing outside the hospital the doctor selected yesterday. The structure isn’t as impressive as the one yet it still appears bustling. The recognizable scent of medicine hits my nose as the automatic doors part.I am not ready at all. However I am also, without an option.I ought to be frightened, nervous, uneasy, whatever typical emotions arise before the chemo treatment. What do I experience? Void. Like my body is operating independently without my command.I head up to the floor home, to oncology. A nurse glances at me momentarily, seemingly identifying a patient right away. I return her with the smile I can muster.“What’s your name?" she inquires.“Vivienne," I replied. My tone resembles a murmur.She reviews the list. Give a nod. "Dr. Stive is ready. Kindly proceed to the consultation room.”I tap g
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 46
Julian's POV I nodded. Meanwhile within me countless words lay scattered like glass I had yet to gather.Before I managed to collect my scattered thoughts a joyful voice, oblivious to the unease, around our table abruptly spoke up.“Dad." Maximilian showed off a chicken bone picked clean. "See! I ate everything!”I came back to the present. "Great. Want some more?”“Of course!”Ophelia chuckled gently gazing at Maximilian with affection. "You truly enjoy eating don’t you?”The boy gave a nod while his mouth was filled with fries.I gazed upon the pair. The individuals who were meant to be the point of my existence.Why then, in this moment that ought to have made me feel complete did I sense that I was letting something slip away?I turned my gaze aside as I swallowed the mouthful of my burger.“I will attempt to improve," I eventually told Ophelia.Though internally I questioned
Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son 45
Julian's POV I stood still. Ophelia's words struck me more deeply than I had anticipated.Ophelia gazed at me softly though faint unvoiced hurts shimmered within her eyes.“I get the sense that I no longer hold a place in your mind.”I hadn’t prepared myself for that. Not from Ophelia, the woman who once inspired me to believe in love, the woman I had imagined as my future for seven years.“I’m sorry " I uttered at last. A single word is insufficient for the burden it carries. "My thoughts have been, over the place recently. Work has been really stressful.”Ophelia offered a smile. "I understand you’re making an effort Julian. Truly. I sense it. You seem away.”The sentence hit hard because it was true. I was distant. Even now, sitting at the same table with her, my mind drifted somewhere else or toward someone else.Vivienne.Her face materialized immediately those shadowed eyes that constantly sought to c
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