Acidity Of Regret Novels & Stories

I turned around and saw Bernice standing at the end of the corridor, with Nathan beside her. Her eyes were red as she walked toward the doctor and asked, "Who are you saying didn't make it?" Confused, the doctor glanced at me. I explained, "She's their biological daughter." The doctor furrowed his brow and asked, "Why are you only arriving now? If you had come a little earlier..." Maybe afraid of provoking Bernice and triggering a medical dispute, the doctor quickly changed his tone. "I understand how you're feeling. We're also very saddened by your loss. Please accept our condolences."

I ruined that smile, that laughter, that joy! I ruined her and then I ruined it all! My jaw tightens slightly at the memory, the familiar weight settling into my chest like something that has long since made itself at home there. Regret is an interesting thing. It doesn’t ever fade, It sharpens and the longer you live, the deeper it cuts. And I have lived long enough to understand that there is no redemption waiting for me at the end of this. Only repetition. Only her. Again! And again. And again.

Regret washes over his face, etching lines of sorrow and remorse. "You're right, Nora. You were never meant to be caught in the crossfire of our rivalry," Jay admits, his voice filled with regret. "I should have protected you, shielded you from the pain and the choices that were forced upon you." Nora gazes at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and longing. The regret in Jay's expression mirrors the tumultuous emotions swirling within her own heart. "I never wanted any of this," Nora whispers, her voice barely audible. "I never wanted to be a pawn in your family's feud. I just wanted to live my own life, make my own choices."

The one who wanted to own me, and who couldn't stand seeing me happy without him. The man I'd spoken to today wasn't that man. He was something else, and one I wasn't ready to name. The elevator doors opened. I stepped out into the lobby. "Regret," I whispered, the right word suddenly coming to me. Regret was far more dangerous than hatred. Hatred was easy to walk away from. I'd walked away from hatred a thousand times. But regret had a way of making you look back. I looked toward the elevators, toward the man I'd spent two years trying to forget, and I wondered if maybe, just maybe, forgetting him wasn't possible.

Chateau remained silent, trying to digest Amber’s words, but it seemed like it was still too raw to fully understand without further explanation from Amber. “Chateau, you may not have mentioned who you meant, but I’ll clarify my words so you can understand who that person is.” Amber paused, then stared into Chateau’s eyes deeply. “Not everyone in this world hates their past because they don’t regret what they did back then. The past can’t be changed, and time can’t go backward, that’s why... regret exists. Those who carry deep regret from their past or very painful memories are more likely to hate their past because they know... that dark past can never be undone.”

My numb fingers lost their grip causing the phone to fall and clatter against the plush carpet. "I regret it!" My voice cracked as the words burst from my throat in raw, anguished sounds. "I regret having sex with him! Oh God, I regret it so much!" Furious tears poured down my face creating steamy hot streaks that clouded my vision. Every breath became a struggle because my chest carried a heavy weight that drained the air from my lungs and left my body feeling extremely heavy. How could I have been so foolish? So utterly blind? Our short-lived exciting affair had transformed into a destructive monster that threatened to devour everything precious to me. Marcus would destroy my beautiful mar

Noah turned back to face Rach, his chest heaving as the weight of his regret spilled out into the room. "And do you know what I have now, Rach? Nothing," he said, his voice dropping to an aching whisper. "Outside this company, Selin treats me like a complete stranger. She looks right through me as if I don't even exist. And inside this building, she treats me like a professional colleague—nothing more, nothing less. My heart is completely shattered, and I am drowning in regret every single second of the day. I know that saying 'sorry' to her will never be enough to fix the damage I've caused."

I just wanted the argument to be over with, so I said gently, "Sorry, my hand slipped." Jasper seemed even angrier when he heard my apology. "I hate you. What else can you do besides apologize? I know you did it on purpose. You're trying to get back at me and embarrass me because I didn't paint you for the competition!" My eyes reddened. How could Jasper think of me like this? As his mother, I would never think of getting back at him even if he did something wrong. Jasper's acceptance speech came to my mind again. He had said, "I painted the mother of my dreams. I hope that one day, she can really become my mom."

"A good husband, a nice home, work I liked, people I loved around me. Just ordinary happiness. I didn't want anything dramatic or complicated." "And now?" "Now I think ordinary happiness might have been a kind of sleep. Comfortable but not quite real." I stood up, wiping my damp fingers on my jeans. "Everything I thought was solid turned out to be breakable. But the things I'm building now feel different. Sturdier. Like I'm actually choosing them instead of just falling into them because they were available." Adrian was watching me with that careful focused attention. "Do you regret it?" he asked. "The marriage? The life you had before?"

I watched him search for words — for some explanation that a five-year-old could understand, that wouldn't destroy her innocence, that wouldn't make her afraid of her own shadow. "Because Grandpa was sick," he said finally. His voice was raw. "Not sick in his body. Sick in his heart. He forgot how to love people. He only knew how to control them." "Are you sick like him?" The question landed like a punch to the chest.