Belated Moonlight: He Regretted Only After I Left Novels & Stories

“It was me. I was still so pained from your loss and because of how raw it was, I didn't want anything reminding me of you or your absence.” “She's a child.” I let out slowly. “she had no idea what happened, so you can't fault her for it.” “I know, I know.” He nodded slowly. “but it's okay now. It'll all be okay. You're back now and everything will go back to normal soon.” “I'm sorry.” It was my turn to give my side of the story. “Im really really sorry.” “No, you don't have to be sorry.” He wiped my tears with his thumb. “You did nothing wrong. It's not your fault the moon goddess was the one to decide when you would come back to us “

I knelt and traced the young, brilliant smile carved there. “Father, Mother, Alex…” My voice was light, almost carried off by the mountain wind. “I loved the wrong person.” “I shouldn’t have fallen for Jonathan Blackwood, shouldn’t have borne his children…” I smiled, and tears fell silently. “I’m going now. This time, I’m truly leaving them. I’ll try to live what’s left of my life well. In the Moon Goddess’s realm, be at peace. Don’t worry for me. One day, under the eternal moonlight, we’ll meet again.”

All he wanted then was to go abroad and be with Yvie. Now that he finally had the woman he loved, he blamed her for everything. It seemed like even true love was worthless compared to money. I turned and walked away, leaving behind Elson's furious screams and Yvie's sobs. The sun was still shining brightly when I got outside the venue.

It was footage of Chelsea’s ordeal. I picked up the remote and switched to a children’s channel. The rotten flesh from the past had been removed. The wound had scabbed over and grown new flesh. The warm sunlight outside the window fell gently on the cradle. I closed my eyes. Not a trace of gloom remained in my life.

During all the time I'd been gone, he hated himself every single day. He wanted so badly to tear open his chest and show me how the thorns of regret had grown wild inside him, piercing through his organs. But facing my cold, indifferent black eyes, all the words in his heart got stuck in his throat. He couldn't say a single one. Fresh ginkgo leaves rustled down between us, as if separated by a decade of unmelted snow. "Go back." "I don't want to see you." I turned to leave. "Don't go—"

But now, all that weight felt like it had been quietly lifted, piece by piece, by his letter. My tears came slowly, not sharp but warm. They didn’t sting. They cleansed. I whispered his name once, softly—not as a plea, but as a farewell. The city outside glowed in the late morning sun. I could see the river from my window—faint, winding, glimmering. Somewhere down there, paper lanterns from last night’s festival still floated, their light fading into day. I thought of the word I’d written on mine. Regret.

she whispered to herself. After a few blocks, the anger gave way to exhaustion. Her feet ached. The road stretched endlessly ahead. She sighed and muttered, “I’ll just get Cora to drive me back to the car.” That made sense. It made the walk feel like something temporary. But as the minutes passed, regret crept in. The air was colder now. Her hair whipped across her face. The pavement gleamed under the streetlights, still wet from the evening drizzle. Her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to fight the chill.

It wrecked everything. I want you to know something: I don’t blame you. Not for anything. And I need you to hear that I’m sorry. For everything. Truly. I wasn’t in my right mind back then. But I see clearly now. The illness—whatever it was—is gone. It was just a physical thing, not something that touched my soul. It’s not a part of me anymore. But that doesn’t mean I got to forget. No, the Moon made sure I felt every awful thing I’d done—again and again. Time moves differently here. A single day stretches on forever. And I’ve lived through years of regret. But finally… finally, She forgave me.

He was scared that they would never be the same again, as they were before. "What are you thinking about, Alisa?" "I'm looking at the moon and thinking about our baby." "The moon?" "Yes, Jayden. Before you ever met me, I used to love the moon before you, and I used to tell it all of my problems and feel it comforting me. Then you came along and became the moon to me until you left. Now I am looking at it because I wonder if I have made the right decision leaving it again." "I will never leave you, Alisa. I swear on my life."

Maybe we'd wasted enough time. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time, I wouldn't let the past destroy what we could have. Still, there were moments. Small ones. Nothing important. At least, that’s what I told myself. One night, I came home late. The house was dark. I walked into the kitchen without turning on the lights and instinctively looked toward the counter. Nothing. I stood there for a moment. Then I realized what I was waiting for. Calista used to leave food for me when I came home late.