All Chapters of Too Late for Regret: My Husband and My Son: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Vivienne's POV Maximilian is holding me with his entire small body, and I am holding him back as if this is the last day God has given me.Today my child is back in my arms.And even though I am fragile, weak, and sick, something inside me, for a moment, feels whole again.I hold my breath, trying to match my heartbeat to the small rhythm pressed against my chest. Maximilian’s body is warm, his weight real, and somehow it keeps me sitting upright even as the world slowly spins. His hands clutch my clothes, his fingers small but determined as if letting go for even a second would make me disappear.Julian remains beside me, his shoulder closed, his presence quiet yet steady. He says nothing, only shifts his position so I can lean on him if I need to. I let my shoulder touch his arm. The contact is simple, without demands, without promises and precisely because of that, my chest tightens.Maximilian lifts his face, his eyes red but attentive. “Mom cold?” he

Vivienne's POV “I’m not asking for permission,” he said sharply. “You need balanced meals. Vitamins and fruit are important to keep your body strong through all of this.”“Julian.”He looked at me, his gaze intense yet full of concern.“I can’t leave you like this. Not even if you force me to.”I turned my face away. A warm feeling spread through my chest, mixed with an ache I couldn’t quite explain. I wanted to tell Julian that I could take care of myself. I wanted to tell him I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, especially to him.But reality couldn’t be denied.I really couldn’t take care of myself in this condition.Julian straightened and took his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll be back soon. Maximilian, stay here with Mom, okay?”Maximilian nodded cheerfully. “Okay, Dad!”Julian looked at me one last time before leaving. His gaze lingered deep, searching as if he needed to be sure I wouldn’t collapse the moment he walked out the door.

Vivienne's POV I gently stroked Maximilian’s head as he leaned against my arm, his small body warm, comfortable, achingly familiar. He was still clutching Prince Batu in one hand, and the little bunny doll I had given him in the other. Seeing him play so freely beside me again felt almost unreal, like a dream.Almost a month.A month since I chose to leave. A month since I made my son wake up crying for his mother. And today he was back in my arms.God, my chest felt tight and relieved all at once.I studied his face. Those brown eyes were still the same. Back when he was a baby, I used to hold him every night so he wouldn’t feel cold. But when my life began to fall apart, when I realized Julian still harbored feelings for his first love when I learned about my illness I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t bear to let Maximilian watch me fade. I couldn’t bear to hurt anyone anymore.“Mom,” Maximilian blinked and lifted his small face. “Why are you spacing out?”I smiled, fragile, but since

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

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