Male POV Regret Short Stories & Novels

Everyone knew I was the man the richest woman in Tova City adored most. She spoiled me constantly, giving me everything I wanted and following my every lead. One day, after waking up from a nap, I found myself tied up at an auction house. On the stage sat my wife, surrounded by her group of friends. One of them laughed and asked, "Sora, how did you find time to bring Damien out today? Everyone says you're so obsessed with your husband Cleo now that you don't have time for Damien anymore." Sora looked at the man next to her before expressing wryly, "Cleo hasn't been feeling well lately, so I've been home taking care of him. Damien's been throwing a fit about it, so I figured I'd make time to bring him out today." I squirmed desperately, trying to get Sora's attention so she would help me. She finally noticed me, but all she did was slowly raise her bidding sign. "Number nine won't stop squirming. He looks like a real handful. One million dollars! I'm picking him."

Eight years ago, my first love, Zyla Garcia, dumped me. Right in front of me, she threw herself into the arms of a rich scion named Brett Salway. She said condescendingly, "Kieran, you asked me to wait for you for three years. But how many three years does a woman have?" I begged her desperately, but she remained unmoved. Brett even ordered someone to pin me to the ground and force me to finish a bottle of red wine before letting me leave. "You should thank me, Kieran. Otherwise, you would never have the chance to drink such expensive wine in your life!" Brett sneers. I watched as they got into a luxury car and drove off. Eight years later, I am one of the most powerful figures in this city—and I run into them again.

After my birthday party, I got far too drunk and made a mistake I could never take back. I slept with my friend's daughter and got her pregnant. To make things right, I handed over more than half of my company shares as compensation. I promised him I would marry his daughter, Nancy Cooper, and give her the grandest wedding possible. After the wedding, I willingly stepped into the role of a househusband. I cooked, cleaned, and kept the home running. However, Nancy spent less and less time at home. Her business trips grew more frequent, and even our son began to look down on me, as if I were nothing more than a man circling the kitchen all day. At my mother's funeral, I noticed Nancy was nowhere to be seen, not even greeting the guests. I went looking for her around the venue. Just as I was about to return to the lounge to call her, a familiar voice drifted out from inside. "Easy… Don't let him find out. I won't be able to explain it when I get back." "Relax. He's an idiot, so easy to fool. Your dad set him up on purpose and drugged him because he wanted his family's assets. And you…" The man chuckled softly. "You made him play the role of our kid’s father. The whole trap was so obvious, yet he still didn't see it. What makes you think he'd notice us sneaking around at his own mother's funeral?" "He's just that stupid," Nancy said lightly. "He believes everything I tell him. Gilbert, just wait a little longer. Once I deal with those stubborn old shareholders, I'll rename Lawson Group to Shaw Group. Then, you can finally enjoy being the one in charge." I stood in place, frozen. It felt like the blood in my veins had turned to ice. This was the ugly truth. Every bit of it, every promise, every sacrifice, had been nothing but a carefully staged lie. Something inside me went cold and quiet. Whatever hope I had been holding onto was shattered completely. I decided then that I would disappear. Not just leave, but vanish. I would stage my death and make a clean break. I would erase myself from Nancy’s world forever. However, after I left for good, she lost her mind, telling the world she loved me and begging me to come back.

At gatherings in our circle, people always bring up a joke. "The Snow family's worthless son-in-law cannot have children, so he keeps sending other men to Grace Snow's bed. How I wish my man had that kind of awareness." What they do not know is that all of those men are arranged by my father-in-law in my name. Grace throws the first one out and has a huge argument with me. Then, she buys me a luxury watch worth over a hundred million dollars to cheer me up. The second time a man is sent to her, she immediately feels sick after only touching his hand. We argue again. This time, she buys me a manor, saying that I'm the only one she wants by her side. But when it comes to the tenth one… She closes the door and does not come out all night. We stop arguing, and we stop speaking to each other. Everyone thinks I will do anything to secure my place in the Snow family and will cling to them for the rest of my life. But when I take out the divorce agreement, no one believes it—including Grace herself.

My wife's first love fell seriously ill. To save him, she gave away the kidney donor that was meant for me. Afraid I would cause a scene at the hospital, she locked me inside our home. Day after day, she stayed by his bedside, cooking for him, caring for him, never leaving his side. All she left for me was a box of stale biscuits… and expired milk. A month later, she finally opened the door. "Have you thought it through?" I looked at her, pale and desperate. "If I don't get that transplant, I'll die." "Why are you talking about dying?" she snapped. "You've endured this for so long already. A little more pain won't kill you. Are you trying to scare me?" "But Vincent is different. He's never been able to handle pain. Can't you be more understanding?" "Understand…" I nodded stiffly. Then, I walked out, without looking back. Only for her to be stabbed multiple times… yet still refuse to let go of my hand!

For a $5 million research stipend, I agreed to let the System install an empathic link inside my body. "Subject. Are you sure you want to proceed? Once installed, the procedure cannot be reversed. This is a prototype. Side effects are not fully characterized." I looked at the sidewalk-stall clothes my girlfriend Cara Lake had bought herself, and the drugstore-grade makeup on her vanity. I nodded. That night, while she was out at her bar job. A current came up out of nowhere inside me. My whole body lit up with a sickening pleasure that did not belong to me. Seven times. A few days later I waited near the club where she worked. I overheard her with her friends. "Cara. You're something else. Pouring La Prairie into a plastic bag and using it like that? Faking poor like a champion. Doesn't Adam ever notice?" "Notice? He's stupid. He'll believe anything I say. His father got hit by a car, lay in bed without the money for treatment, died alone. I told Adam I couldn't help. He stayed up all night comforting me. I almost died laughing." The laughter went into me like a knife. I got out of there. The tears came on the walk home. I picked up the phone. "Professor. I'll go to the classified institute. I'll go now."

When my wife, Rebecca Walsh, misses my chemotherapy session for the 99th time, I come across a post on social media. "I won my lover's heart with a kidney. She will surely love me to death, right?" The attached photo shows a couple kissing on a street in Targon. The woman has a small heart-shaped scar on her neck. What a coincidence—it is exactly the same as Rebecca's. The woman who nearly dies for me falls in love with someone else so easily. The comments below are full of encouragement from strangers. "Man, you're so brave. Wishing you everlasting love." "If I were the woman, I would love you to death." I leave a comment too. "I hope you are together until you are in the depths of hell, you cheating pair. As for me, the husband, I will step aside to make way for you." One minute later, the post disappears. It doesn't matter. I post on my own account. I write, "After I spent three years battling cancer, my wife fell in love with the man who's supposed to be the kidney donor." The attached images are our marriage certificate and the same photo of them kissing from earlier.

Six years ago, I was accused of kidnapping Fiona Carter’s adopted younger brother, Ryker Carter. The kidnapper insisted I was behind it. I begged Fiona for help, but she looked at me with pure disgust. "Xavier, you broke Ryker’s leg. This is the punishment you deserve!" Six years later, Fiona came to the prison to take me home, only to be handed a death certificate. She refused to believe it. "Xavier, even if you run to the ends of the earth, I’ll find you!" Later, she knelt in front of my grave and personally severed Ryker’s tendons.

My mother had a rare disease. After months of dead ends, I found one person in the country who could treat her. She told me there was a price. She said she needed a husband. I agreed. For my mother, I agreed. For six years I was her ATM. I bought her the bags. I bought her the watches. It got worse. She used my money to keep a kept man. She brought him into our bed. The day my mother had her last surgery, she walked out of the operating room halfway through to go celebrate her lover's birthday. The moment they pronounced my mother dead, I decided there and then, she was paying for that with her life.

By the tenth engagement party, Samantha Moore stood me up again. I called her to ask what happened. What I didn't realize was that my phone was still connected to the banquet hall speakers. A second later, the entire room went dead silent. Soft, breathless moans spilled through the sound system. Then Samantha's voice came on, shaky and uneven. "Caleb... my department planned a team hike today. We're almost at the top. About the engagement party... let's just do it another time. I have to go." She hung up. For a moment, nobody moved. Then the room erupted into chaos. Gasps, whispers, and a few harsh laughs filled the banquet hall. Some people did not even bother hiding their amusement. Even the servers were glancing at me as if I were nothing more than a pathetic joke. I had proposed to Samantha ninety-nine times before she finally said yes, and yet she had never once shown up to our engagement party—not once. I stood there quietly, took the engagement ring from my pocket, and dropped it into the fish tank beside the stage. After seven years of waiting, forgiving, and making excuses for her, I finally understood the truth. I had mistaken my patience for love, and she had mistaken my love for permission to hurt me. I used to believe that if I loved her enough, she would eventually choose me. Instead, every time I lowered myself for her, she only pushed the line further. This was the tenth time she had humiliated me in front of everyone, and it would be the last. From that day on, she was no longer part of my future.

According to the Winslow family's rules that are passed down for generations, anyone who wants to marry into the family must draw a tarot card. But I have drawn 99 times, and every single card is a bad one. Before the 100th draw, I see Clara Winslow replace all the Lovers cards in the deck. She says, "No matter how many times he tries, he will only draw the worst cards." I finally realize that she does not love me at all. That is fine because I no longer want to marry her either. I toss the cards aside and call my parents. "I accept the arranged marriage with the Shaws."

One week before our wedding, my fiancee told me she wanted to have a baby with her childhood best friend. When I said no, she looked at me as if I were the unreasonable one. "It's just IVF," my fiancee said. "Nothing is going to happen between Logan and me. His parents have been pressuring him to get married so badly that he almost died in a car accident. Now they have finally agreed to back off as long as he has a child. We should help him." I stared at her, my face drained of color. "We're getting married in a week, and you want to have another man's baby? Do you honestly think that's fair to me?" Her expression softened, and she reached for my hand as if she were soothing a child. "Daniel," she said gently, "after we're married, we'll have children of our own too." In that moment, whatever love I had left for her died completely. She was right about one thing: I would have children of my own someday, but not with her. I turned around, opened my phone, and posted a status for everyone to see, 'I'm getting married in one week, but I'm missing a bride. Anyone interested?'

Three years ago, my childhood sweetheart, Eleanor Carter, left me at the altar to marry Dillan Perez—the adopted son of my family. The church erupted in whispers. I became the laughingstock in a single breath. Then Victoria Brown—the aloof, formidable CEO of the Brown Group—stepped forward. "I'll marry you, Lambert," she said, her voice cutting through the wreckage of my pride. I said yes. For three years, she was the perfect wife. Gentle. Attentive. She was my salvation. But there was one thing that always hung between us like a quiet ache—we never had a child. The doctors found nothing wrong with either of us. Victoria would just smile softly and say, "It will happen when the time is right." Today, I came home early. The door to our bedroom was slightly open. I heard her voice. She was on the phone with her best friend. I didn't mean to listen. But then I heard my name. "Lambert wants a child with me," she said. "But he doesn't know I've been on birth control the whole time. That's why we never got pregnant." My blood turned cold. "As long as he has no heir," she continued, "Dillan's place in the Clark family stays secure." I stood there, frozen. My hands went cold. My heart shattered into pieces. I was just a tool to protect the man she truly cared for. I didn’t confront her. Instead, I calmly planned my death—a quiet disappearance from her world.

My name is Adrian Hart. The day my sister Serena found me and brought me home, I thought I finally had a family again. I was wrong. In Serena's eyes, her adopted brother Evan mattered more than I ever would. When he was too scared to marry into a powerful family, I walked down the aisle for him. When he wanted out, I swallowed a fake-death pill and disappeared. Every time, Serena swore it was the last. The seventh time, she poured the pill down my throat herself. And that was the time I actually died. My soul stayed behind. I watched Serena stand over my body in the morgue and fail to recognize me until it was too late. And the cruelest part wasn't dying. It was knowing that, until my very last breath, my sister still wasn't on my side.

My parents suddenly told me that we were living in a novel. I was the frail and favored younger brother destined to get into college, marry my childhood sweetheart, and live an easy life. My older brother, Daniel Luther, on the other hand, was the expendable one. He was destined to fail his SAT and be beaten to death. My parents said that if they wanted to save him, they had to make sure he got into college. They did everything they could to help him, but he still failed his SAT. Meanwhile, I got into the same college as my childhood sweetheart, Priscilla Grimmie, through my own hard work. That night, my parents snatched my college acceptance letter and locked me in a cellar under the backyard. "Let your brother take your place and go to college first. You can retake your exams next year." My foot slipped, and I hit my head hard against a canning jar. Warm blood trickled down my neck. I shouted, "Mom, it hurts!" She didn't even turn around. "Caleb, stop it! Your brother is one step away from his dreams!" Their footsteps gradually faded. I slowly closed my eyes. The next time I opened my eyes, I was already floating in midair.

Marlene Cole, who has always been a reliable nanny, has called me three times in a row out of panic today. "I got bad news for you, Mr. Spence! The security guard of the kindergarten refuses to let Erin into the kindergarten! "He claims that the name on the student ID is wrong! The ID belongs to a little girl named Jodie! It's not Erin's ID at all!" I look up from the spreadsheet I'm holding, a frown already gracing my features. "Marlene, wasn't Harper the one who gave you the ID last night?" Marlene sounds like she's about to burst into tears from panic. "She did! But the scanner shows that Jodie Holmes is the ID owner! The security guard says that we've gotten the wrong ID, so now he's interrogating me!" That's odd. Half a year ago, I've pulled a few strings just so I can enroll my daughter, Erin Spence, into Starry Kindergarten, known as the most prestigious kindergarten in the city. In fact, I have to sponsor the kindergarten 300 thousand dollars in order to secure a slot for Erin. Over the month, my wife, Harper Gilmore, has always been the one driving Erin to school every day. Today, Harper claims that she can't take Erin to school because she needs to pull overtime shifts at her company, so she has instructed Marlene to do so. But how is it possible that Erin's student ID now shows another name when it's Marlene's turn to take her to the kindergarten?

My girlfriend, Madison Carter, claims that men's hearts will rot when they start gaining wealth. Out of love toward her, I give her all of my money. But on my birthday, my severe illness has relapsed due to me not bearing to spend money on medication. So, I can only borrow money from Madison, who's also a CEO. But she begins berating me without asking me the reason why. "You really are an ingrate! I've been sustaining you for so long, and yet you never pledge your loyalty toward me! All you care about is money!" Naturally, Madison refuses to lend me even a single cent. But the next day, she doesn't hesitate to give her first love, Lucas Whitfield, a few million dollars just so he can start a business of his own. I feel my blood turn into ice as I stare at the woman I've loved for ten years. Only now do I realize that she has never loved me before.

When I find out there's a tumor growing in my brain, the Kane sisters are in the middle of celebrating Evan Kennedy's birthday with him. If I undergo the tumor-extracting surgery, I'll risk losing my memories. I don't want to forget the sisters at all, so I call them in hopes of seeking their help. But all three sisters don't hesitate to berate me on the spot. "Why can't you be more understanding, Declan? It's Evan's birthday today! Nothing is more important than his birthday!" Heartbroken, I feel immense pain wrecking my head. That's how I end up collapsing three times in a row later on. When I regain my consciousness in the hospital, I see a text message sent by Evan. "Declan, the Kane sisters have given me three protective charms just to protect me." In the photo, the "protective charms" are actually the very same charms I have managed to obtain after spending ten hours climbing a mountain while groveling all the way. My heart has officially died at that moment. So, I decide to fly overseas on my own to undergo that life-saving surgery and forget all about the Kanes. Weirdly enough, the sisters go crazy right after I've forgotten about them.

"Hey, what's your laptop's specs?" My colleague, Dexter Grant, pushes my laptop back to me with a deep frown on his face. I'm busy editing my blueprints, so I respond to him without lifting my head. "It's the latest model. The motherboard is i7 12-Gen, and I have a 64-GB ram installed in it. What's wrong?" "That's impossible!" Dexter shakes his head. "All I did was open Photoshop earlier, and yet the laptop was stuck for three whole minutes! Not even my own laptop, which has lasted me for three years, is as slow as yours! "Also, there are scratch marks left behind by a screwdriver on your laptop's casing. It's clear that someone has cracked your case in the past before installing it back on." My heart sinks at Dexter's observations. I quickly flip over my laptop and take a look at it. It's true that there are two fresh scratches near the laptop's vent. The edge of the casing was slightly jutted upward as well. The sight leaves me shell-shocked. The thing is, my laptop was still fine when my cousin, Joe Clinton, borrowed it from me three months ago…

I was born with a weak heart. When I was nineteen, I got a heart transplant that allowed me to survive. Soon after, I met my wife-to-be, Vivian Cosby. Three years after we got married, I found a note in her phone that was not deleted. The date was marked as the day we met. The text simply read, [I found him. His name is Quinn Waverly. The heart is with him.] When I looked through the notes further, I saw a man’s photo, captioned with a name. [Randall] There was another line of text in her notes. It read, [Randall, through your heart in his chest, I will show you the world.] I finally understood. The first time we met, she had not been taken aback because it was love at first sight, it was simply shock. The tears she shed when she proposed were not because of me. In the night, she would always lay her head on my chest. However, she was not listening for my heartbeat, but his. Tonight, she came home very late. As usual, she held me tightly and buried her face in my chest. “Your heartbeat always makes me calm.” I did not open my eyes, nor did I ask about Randall. This was the first time I realized that one could hear a heart beat so loudly that it echoed, even through so many layers of skin and muscle.