Scumbag Regret Short Stories & Novels

I came home late one night to find another woman in the apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Alistair Westwood. She was wearing my silk slip, which barely covered her thighs. Barefoot, she pressed herself against him. His hand was wrapped around her bare waist. "Nika isn't feeling well, so I told her she could stay here for now." Nika peeked out from behind him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this was your place." "Where is she going to sleep?" I demanded. "And why is she wearing my clothes?" Alistair frowned. "Nika is sick. Obviously, she'll sleep with me so I can look after her. Can't you just let this go for once?" "It's fine. I can sleep on the couch," Nika offered. Alistair cut her off at once. "No. You're too sick to sleep there." I stared at the two of them for a moment. Then I grabbed a pillow and a blanket. "I'll take the couch." As soon as the bedroom door closed, I opened my laptop and reached for an invitation on the table. Half an hour later, I typed my answer. By the next day, Alistair's company had lost one of its biggest partnerships.

My fiance, Adrian Hale, and I had planned to go snorkeling on Valentine's Day. The day we landed in the south of France, I discovered that his first love, Vivian Clarke, had come with us. They insisted on heading into unpatrolled waters. "But those waters are dangerous, shrouded in strange rumors..." Adrian frowned at me. "Sophie, do you have to ruin the mood right now?" Vivian smiled and hooked her arm through his. "With you here, nothing is going to happen to us." Once we were in the water, Vivian recklessly swam toward the deeper channel. A swell shoved half her body into a narrow opening. I swam over to pull her free, but she thrashed and drove her heel hard into my knee. Her elbow knocked my mask crooked. Before I could straighten it, Vivian kicked me into the opening. Adrian came up behind us, grabbed Vivian, and held her hand tight. The voices over my underwater headset were muffled, but I still heard Adrian's cold warning clearly. "Vivi doesn't know these waters. You do, don't you? "You led her into deeper water on purpose. Who exactly were you trying to hurt? "Figure your own way out. Consider it the lesson you've earned!" Briny seawater flooded my throat. My aching legs kicked uselessly. My body was wedged fast in the opening. I closed my eyes in despair. My last thought was this: if I died, they deserved to pay with their lives.

I was the Luna who gave everything to her Alpha—my heart, my loyalty, my dignity. Ethan repaid me by sleeping with other she-wolves, over and over again, and every night our mate bond slowly poisoned what was left of my soul. On our third wedding anniversary, when he suggested I could "try" sleeping with someone else too, I finally broke. My childhood friend, a young Alpha, called me when he heard the news and proposed to me over the phone. His gentle voice healed every wound Ethan had carved into me, so I said yes. Now I've decided to give Ethan moonbreak herb and sever our bond forever. But Ethan never bothered to ask what I gave him to drink. He was too busy running off to his favorite she-wolf's bed. He has no idea that in thirty days, when the moon breaks, our mate bond will shatter completely, and the "chains" that bound us as fated mates will be gone. This time, I'm really leaving.

I'd been in a secret relationship with Nathan for six years. He said we couldn't go public because of his career. So we always split the bill, and anniversary gifts never cost more than fifteen dollars. The night before our anniversary, I asked him for the sixth time when he'd come home with me to meet my family. He turned me down again. "Ivy, I just think things are moving a little fast. Marriage is a lifetime commitment, after all." So I went home alone, carrying the expensive cheese and wine he'd bought for my mom. I pushed open the door and found the living room trashed. My stepsister Chloe stood there with a smug grin on her face. "Mrs. Mercer, you owe my family a million dollars. You've been stalling long enough. Time to settle up, don't you think?" Years ago, my father had an affair, and Chloe's mother orchestrated the whole thing. My mom ended up saddled with a mountain of debt, and my father took the easy way out with a divorce. When I said nothing, Chloe scoffed, "What's wrong? Don't want to own up to it? "That's fine. My husband happens to be the best lawyer in the city. He's never lost a case. "This is his first year coming home with me for the holidays. Perfect time to show you what 'pay what you owe' really means." I crouched down to shield my mother, the words of protest dying on my lips. The next second, a familiar figure stepped out from behind Chloe. It was Nathan.

The first experiment in the world of retrieving memories after death succeeds, and my memories are going to be broadcast live all over the Internet. My dad has just learned about my death, but he only says in a disgusted tone, "Who would want to see the memories of someone who is selfish, mean, and has nothing commendable at all about them? Today is the wedding day of Zoe and Cameron. Pause the live broadcast and stop being so sickening!" Zoe is my stepsister, and Cameron is supposed to be my fiance. After that, my father finds out the truth from the live broadcast of my memories. He begs for my forgiveness tearfully but… I'm already dead.

On the second day of Alpha Andy’s patrol with his junior assistant Scarlett, I wrapped up all handovers and applied to the High Elder for Pack Withdrawal. Ten minutes later, my phone pinged — Andy approved. “Looks like she’s leaving.” “Think Alpha Andy wanted her gone?” “Not sure. He treated her well; she quit on her own.” “She’s always overreacting. Maybe she’s a spy from another pack?” “A foreign future Luna is trouble. Good riddance, from the job and the pack.” “Right. She only had that position because of Andy. Alone, she wouldn’t survive.” “Why bother? She’s his fated mate. He must’ve given her gold.” “Who knows?” While I packed, pack-mates made snide comments, enjoying my embarrassment. Laugh all you want. We won’t be packmates soon. I’m used to this. I’m Lynda Roskruhe, from another pack. Our grandfathers were wartime allies, and Andy and I fell in love. He brought me here to help run pack affairs. We were happy until Scarlett became his assistant. We clashed from the start. Shockingly, my fiancé Andy and most wolves always sided with her, claiming she was young and needed my guidance. The pack never welcomed an outsider as their Luna. Andy once defended me, but now they target me to please Scarlett. I sneered. “Bad news. I’m joining the Nightfall Pack. No overlapping hunting lands, and their Sacred Spring is far better.” “What? You’re leaving Alpha Andy, not just the post?” Ignoring their stunned faces, I slung my bag and walked out of the pack gate. I wouldn’t return home yet — I didn’t want my parents sad. As I crossed the boundary, Andy called. I was ready to explain, but his cold voice came first: “I sent the hunting territory draft. Revise it and send it back in an hour.” He had no idea I’d already left.

After my husband, Trevor Penn, abuses me for the 98th time just to stand up for Callista Whitcombe, I've completely given up on him. That's when I accept his best friend, Maddox Harlow's confession. After spending the night with Maddox, he agrees to help me fake my death. That way, I'll be able to use a brand new identity to marry him overseas. I've taken the fake-death drug Maddox has given to me, only to wake up in a coffin earlier than expected. I can't move a single muscle in my body. But that's when I overhear Maddox's conversation with another person outside the coffin. "Mr. Harlow, you convinced Trevor to abuse Judith before pretending to save her from her abusive life. Now that you've obtained her full-fledged trust, why did you still arrange for her to be buried after faking her death?" "Only by doing this will the Whitcombes trust that Judith is truly dead. That way, Callie's position as the heiress will be unshakable. No one will ever bring up the fact that she's an illegitimate child ever again." The other person sounds hesitant. "Won't it be too long if we only dig the coffin out one week from now, after you've held the wedding with Callista?" "The fake-death drug's effects can last for five days. I've already had someone put enough water, food, and oxygen tanks in the coffin. There's no way Judith will die."

"If you could start over, who would you date?" That night, one of my fiancé's friends threw a party. We were playing truth or dare when the spinner landed on Julian Hale. All eyes in the room turned to Julian, who sat beside me. Then everyone turned to me with knowing, slightly envious smiles, ready to tease. Just yesterday, Julian had proposed to me with a three-million-dollar drone light show and a nine-million-dollar diamond ring. Glass in hand, my smile froze before it could fully form. Julian toyed with a metal lighter between his fingers. His gaze passed right over me and settled on the girl in white sitting in the far corner of the room. "Summer Lowe." His voice was flat. He didn't hesitate for even a second. The teasing in the room died instantly. A few of the guys across from us exchanged awkward looks. Someone coughed, then quickly tried to smooth things over. "Julian's joking. Everybody knows he's marrying Nora next month." Summer's head snapped up. Her eyes immediately welled with tears, and she twisted her fingers together nervously. "Julian, stop joking around. Nora's going to be upset." Sitting beside Julian, I felt my blood run cold.

After my husband's first love, Sydney Edwards, used me as a walking blood bank, I died in the run-down rental apartment my billionaire husband, Casper Hawthorne, had tossed me into like it was a blessing for me. Today was the third day since I had died. My six-year-old son, Adam, finally realized something was wrong. He had cut his finger while playing with his toys, yet I did not comfort him. He tore open a packet of crackers and raised one to my mouth to feed me, but I did not stop him. He lay in my arms, clutching my clothes and whispering for me. Still, I did not answer. Lost and panicking, he found my phone and called his father, Casper. "Dad, why is Mom still sleeping?" The man sent back a photo of himself having New Year's Eve dinner with Sydney and said in a cold voice, "She's just sleeping, she's not dead. Today is New Year's Eve. I'm busy. Tell that clueless mom of yours that when she's ready to admit she was wrong, she can come and look for me." After the call ended, Adam stood there frozen for a long time. He picked up the last biscuit in the rental apartment from the trash can, broke it in half, and held one piece to my mouth. "Mom, let's eat too."

In our five years of marriage, I had given in to my husband, John, for a grand total of three times. The first time was during my pregnancy. He had taken his ex-girlfriend Stacy, who had once taken three bullets for him, back home and cared for her. When I became angry, he immediately sent her away once she recovered. The second time was after childbirth, when I was ready to return to work. To repay a favor, he gave the position I had worked years for to Stacy. He said it was so I could rest well. I looked at my son, who needed me, and I conceded. The third time was during our son’s birthday. In front of the entire company, he had announced that Stacy was his wife, all so she could establish herself in the company. I gave him two choices: divorce or send her away. Without hesitation, he chose the latter and immediately sent her abroad. The fourth time was when my father suddenly had a heart attack and urgently needed surgery. He disappeared again. I searched everywhere for him to cover the hospital expenses, and I finally discovered that he had gone to the airport to pick up a pregnant Stacy, who was returning to the country. Because of that, my father missed the best chance for treatment and died. I was done giving in. I disguised the divorce agreement as our son’s medical bill and tricked him into signing it. No compensation or apology would matter. I did not wish to have him near my son or myself again.

Six months pregnant with my fated Alpha’s heir, I came home. And ran straight into my Beta ex at the airport. Kyle’s icy gaze raked over my swollen belly, and a cruel smirk twisted his lips. “Amelia. I never thought you’d sink this low. Trying to trap me with a bastard.” “You think you can just secretly have my pup, and I’ll bond with you? Make you my mate? Dream on!” He took a step closer, his scent thick with threat. I said nothing, meeting his glare without flinching. Contempt flashed in his eyes. “I told you before. Only pure-blooded Selena can give me an heir. That half-breed mutt in your belly? I’ll never claim it! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get rid of it yourself!” When I didn't give him the reaction he wanted, he jerked his chin at the two wolves behind him. They tensed, ready to take me by force. "Since you refuse to handle this, I'll handle it for you," he snarled. "And if this ruins my chance to join the Blood Moon Pack, you are dead." I had to bite back a cold laugh. Little did he know, the pup he was trying to kill was the heir of Alpha Ethan—the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack. He was the one who was truly dead.

When my water broke, I found out my husband, Damian Keats, had given away my private maternity suite to his childhood friend Sienna Lowe, because she had a stomachache. The top-tier medical team I'd arranged became an overflow bed in a drafty hallway without so much as a curtain around it. He was pouring warm water for Sienna when I said something about it, and he didn't even turn his head. "I got the name on the booking wrong. She's already settled in, so just make do out there for one night." I got it wrong. I'd been listening to that sentence for five years. He got the hospital wrong when I registered for prenatal care, and it happened to be the private clinic where he'd spent the whole day waiting on Sienna's cosmetic appointment. He got the food order wrong at the worst of my morning sickness, and the tart drink I could actually keep down turned into the ghost-pepper wings Sienna loved. He even got the crib size wrong, which is how it ended up as a bed for Sienna's dog. To keep him from getting anything else wrong, I paid the full twelve-thousand-dollar deposit on the private maternity suite six months early and taped the confirmation to the most obvious spot on the refrigerator. I set countdown reminders in my own phone, three times a day. He still got it wrong when he checked me in. Damian noticed how white my face was and frowned a little. "Fine, I got it wrong this time. But you're having a baby. What difference does the room make?" He waved it off the way he always did, and I decided I wasn't gambling my life on him again. I worked the IV out of the back of my hand and dropped my bloodstained wedding ring in the trash. "You're right. It's just a baby. But whatever last name this one carries, it won't be yours."

Jensen Shaw said, "My only wish is for you to disappear from my life forever." After five loveless years of marriage, Lauren Sullivan became the person her husband hated most. Then she really did disappear. Everyone said Lauren brought it on herself. When she died, no one even came to claim her body. But as one buried truth after another came to light, Jensen discovered... At the best time of her life, she once loved him with a pure, open heart. And when aftershocks shook the ruins around them, she risked her life to save him.

On the day of our graduation photo, the class started sorting everyone into groups. I'd barely taken my place beside my boyfriend, Evan Brooks, when someone started shouting. "Put Claire next to Evan!" "Right? Claire's the prettiest girl on campus. She belongs beside the campus heartthrob!" Before I could react, my childhood friend Liam took my arm and gently traded our positions. "Nina, switch with Claire. "It's only a graduation photo. Don't be petty." Evan smiled and didn't refuse. He only stepped half a step aside, opening a space for Claire. I froze where I stood and touched the barrette in my hair without thinking. It was the first gift he'd ever given me. I'd stood in front of the mirror for ages getting it right, because I wanted one proper photograph with him. Right before the shutter, Evan called to me. "Nina." My heart lurched. The next second, he reached up and took the barrette out of my hair. "Claire's hair is a mess. Let her borrow this." The teasing started up again. Claire lowered her head and smiled. Evan didn't explain. The photographer called out. "All right—happy graduation!" When everyone shouted it together, I was standing at the very edge. At that moment, I finally understood that I had never belonged there. Since I had no place in your graduation photograph, you would have no place in my future.

My boyfriend's mistress posted a pregnancy announcement with him on Instagram. They looked ridiculously happy. Then she tagged me and asked for my blessing in front of everyone. Naturally, the whole internet waited for me to tear her apart. They had every reason to expect bloodshed. I'd dragged myself out of the ruins of a crime family and fought my way to the top of Wall Street. Julian Rhodes, meanwhile, was the son of the nanny who had raised me. And Emily Nash? She was a medical intern who grew up in the slums. Soon, even underground bookies were taking bets on what I'd do. Half bet Emily wouldn't make it out alive. The rest bet Julian would die beside her. I did neither. Instead, I shocked everyone by congratulating them. There was a reason for that. A month earlier, Julian had been badly injured while protecting me during a shootout at the pier. The head injury had left him with an alternate personality. That other Julian had fallen hard for the first person he'd seen when he woke up—Emily. A few days earlier, Emily twisted her ankle as she walked past me. That alone was enough to bring out Julian's other personality. He grabbed an antique vase and smashed it against my forehead. Hot blood ran down my brow and into my eye. My hand went straight to the gun at my hip. Then I stopped myself. He laughed and pointed at me. "Caroline, touch Emily again, and the real Julian will never wake up. You'll never see him again." Julian had saved my life the night my family was wiped out. He also held the access keys to everything I owned. So if I wanted the real Julian back, I had no choice but to endure it.

I was eighteen when I left Italy for Chicago. My brother Leo handed me over to his most powerful ally for “protection.” Don Damien Volkov. His eyes locked on me the first time we met. They never looked away. By day, I was his private doctor. By night, I was the only thing in his bed. His seduction was a slow, deliberate hunt. The way his body brushed against mine during an exam. A stray kiss that landed behind my ear. The weight of his hand resting on the small of my back. I fell fast and hard for his dark charm. I gave myself to him, letting him claim me, again and again. For four years, our affair was a secret hidden in the shadows. In that time, he sculpted my body, teaching it to crave his touch, molding me into his perfect obsession. Then she came back. Isabella, his exiled ex-fiancée. He sent his private jet for her. I swallowed my pride and crashed his reunion. An hour ago, his hands, still smelling of blood, gripped my chin. He forced his kiss on me. But now, right in front of me, he was stroking another woman's hair. "Elara, you're the one who climbed into my bed four years ago." "You act like a whore, but you expect me to treat you like a Donna?" The way he looked at Isabella was so tender. The way he looked at me was pure scorn. Shame burned through me. Head down, I sent my brother a coded text. Accept the Moretti proposal. I looked up. A smile bloomed on my face. "Fine. Then this is goodbye, Damien."

After saving money with Justin Pierre for five years, we finally went to view a house. My best friend, Maria Houston, came along too. "The master bedroom needs a walk-in closet. Can we knock down this wall?" she asked Justin while pointing at the floor plan I had been looking at for the past six months. "I'll get a designer to take a look tomorrow. You can change it however you want." The two of them discussed everything, from the direction the apartment faced to the tiles, from the floor-to-ceiling windows to the bathtub. Meanwhile, I stood in the corner, unable to get a word in. When it was time to sign the papers, he seemed to suddenly remember I was here and said, "We'll put this place under Maria's name for now. She's here all by herself, so consider it a company benefit. The company is a little tight on cash lately. You can keep renting for another two years." However, I had also left my hometown behind to build a life with him from nothing five years ago. Back then, we had squeezed into a tiny apartment without even air-conditioning, and he had made me a promise with absolute certainty. "Once the company takes off, the first thing I'll do is give you a home." Now that the company had finally succeeded, the first home he bought was for someone else. I stared at the two signatures side by side on the contract and realized there was no place for my name. Since he had already planned a future that did not include me, I was not going to wait for him anymore. Thinking about it, I opened the page to terminate my lease and confirmed it.

In my fifth year of marriage to the Don of a powerful mafia family, I find out that the protection charm he gave me causes me headaches whenever I bring it with me. As a surgeon, this raised my alarm. I retrieved the small sachets I had found inside the amulet and brought them to the toxicology lab at Kosley Hospital.. The doctor inspects the sachet and tells me that it contains a type of slow-acting poison that doesn't just cause harm to the victim's body but also renders them infertile after a while. I cry and exclaim, "But that's impossible! My husband gave this to me! His name is Vincenzo Cursley. He's also the person who owns this hospital!" The doctor looks at me in confusion. "Miss, please stop the nonsense. I know Mr. Cursley and his wife. They're very close and intimate with each other. Also, Mrs. Cursley just gave birth to a baby boy not too long ago. They're both now in the VIP ward, looking at their baby." Then, the doctor shows me a photo on his phone. Vincenzo was wearing his usual black suit with the Cursley family emblem embroidered on it. He was holding a baby in his arms, and as for the woman standing next to him… I know her. Her name is Claudia Henderson. And Vincenzo has always referred to her as his adoptive sister.

On Christmas night, my husband, Finnick Carson, can't spend the holidays with me because he's on a business trip. In order to make it up to me, he's specifically ordered a Christmas feast from a fancy restaurant and has it delivered to our home. But when I open the box containing the feast, I'm shell-shocked by what I see. Not only an array of seafood—that I'm allergic to—is arranged in containers, but there's also a kid's meal set included in the feast. When the deliveryman sees the food, he apologizes to me and tells me that he's mixed up the two meals that Finnick has ordered. This leaves me feeling uneasy. Why would my husband order two meals? So, I decide to find my way to the delivery address that the other meal is meant for. Shockingly enough, I see Finnick standing in a villa's backyard while picking candies from a Christmas tree with a mother and a son. The little boy then rushes into his arms happily. "Daddy, I'd like an amusement park for my birthday gift this year!" Finnick pinches his cheek gently. "Okay. I'll give your mommy a set of jewelry, too." The woman cuddles with him happily. "You're so nice to us, honey!" Having recorded the entire scene quietly, I send it to my lawyer. "Help me expedite my divorce so that my husband can reunite with his family as soon as possible."

It has been fifty-five days since my fiancé cut me off. I called off the wedding I'd waited eight long years for. All while he was caring for his childhood sweetheart, who was battling depression and seeking peace at a remote retreat. He even had the historic chapel—a local landmark called the Aethelred Sanctuary—closed to the public for six months because of her. And me? I was left to face the swarming reporters, hounded from one place to the next until I had nowhere left to hide—all because he disappeared without a word. Out of options, I went to the retreat to find him. But he turned me away, saying I would disturb the quiet and sanctity of the place. In the bitter cold of deep winter, I collapsed outside the gates, barely holding on. When I woke, I saw him—Jonathan—planting an entire garden of roses on the grounds, every bloom a declaration of love. Six months later, he finally left and returned home with his childhood sweetheart. The roses they had planted now filled what was supposed to be our wedding venue, from floor to ceiling. I watched them, cold and unmoved. What he didn't know was this—I was already engaged to someone else.