When Did It'S Too Late For Regret Release As A Novel?

I stopped fighting. The moment I came back, I stepped out of the family spotlight on purpose— no arguments, no expectations, no awkward “let’s bond” moments. And somehow… that’s when my parents lost their minds. They made my little sister the heir? I congratulated them and filed my transfer to the Vegas branch the same afternoon. They threw her a massive coming-of-age gala? I smiled, booked a flight, and left before the invitations were printed. They bought her a limited-edition luxury car? I claimed my “old wrist injury” made driving impossible and insisted she take it. I thought they’d be relieved. I thought they’d finally get their perfect family without me messing up the picture. But instead—my cold, distant parents started calling nonstop. Showing up at my door. Pleading with me to come home. Asking what they did wrong. Why now? Why only when I stopped trying? Because in my last life, I spent decades clawing for their love— only to die bitter, resented, and humiliated. Even my grown son told me I was embarrassing. This time, I came back different. I refused to fight for a place in their world again. I refused to compete with my sister. I refused to beg. But the moment I stepped away… the entire family empire began to crack. And now they’re terrified. Not because I left— but because they finally realized what they lost.

Seven years into her marriage, Maria was diagnosed with brain cancer. For her husband Richard and son Jonathan, she bet on a 50-50 percent chance of survival. Enter Eleanor, her husband's old flame and one true love. It was then that Maria realized the painful truth: her marriage to Richard was nothing but a scam. When Eleanor appeared, everything changed. Richard made her his secretary at work, while his best friend addressed her as Mrs. Shaw—a title that should belong to Maria. Even Jonathan came to believe that Eleanor would make a better mother. Maria gave up entirely. In a final act of despair, she severed all ties with Richard and Jonathan before vanishing into thin air. When Richard and Jonathan finally saw Maria's cancer diagnosis, they were filled with regret. They traced her overseas and groveled at her feet, begging for her forgiveness just so she would look their way—but she didn't spare them a glance. Who needs a heartless husband and an ungrateful son?

My husband's true love developed acute kidney failure, and I was the only matching donor. To save her life, he forced me to terminate my pregnancy at six months. Despite his gentle tone, he said the most heart-wrenching words, "Can't you be a little kinder? You're just losing a child, but she's losing her life." I resisted with every fiber of my being, but he threatened his own life to force my hand. On the operating table, both my child and I died. Meanwhile, his true love's transplant was a success, and she lived. Although the outcome was exactly what he wanted, he spiraled into madness upon hearing news of my death.

Candice had witnessed Kyle’s deep affection—and suffered his betrayal. She endured in silence, tricking him into signing the divorce papers. When the 30-day cooling-off period ended, she calmly informed him, “Kyle, I don’t want you anymore. Get out of my life.” Kyle was stunned as if struck by lightning. His eyes reddened in panic. He tore the agreement to shreds. “Who said we’re getting divorced? I don’t agree!” Charlie Clemens was a powerful tycoon, a man beyond reach. She didn’t want to get involved with him, yet fate kept bringing them together. At a banquet, tipsy and reckless, she accidentally tugged on his tie. He leaned down, his voice low and teasing by her ear: “Your ex-husband is watching. You sure you want to be this... bold?”

Nadine Sullivan doesn't come home to have dinner with me on my birthday. Instead, she transfers 100 dollars to me and sends me a text, saying, "I love you." Coincidentally, a resident doctor at her hospital updates his social media with a photo. It's a screenshot of her transferring 10,000 dollars to him. She's also texted him, "I love you to the moon and back." I don't throw a tantrum or kick up a fuss. All I do is leave the city without hesitation. The first day after my departure, I hear that Nadine is unfazed. She says, "He'll be back after a few days." The first month after my departure, Nadine calls me. "I'll transfer 100 thousand dollars to you, alright? Can you come back now?" I've never wanted her money, though.

3 years after getting married, I am still a virgin. "Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage. We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment. For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage. Today, I finally received his message: "I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport." When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend. In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air. He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be. "Aurora, come back. I regret everything!" Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!