Delayed Regrets: He Regretted Only After Her Death Novels & Stories

“You are worth more than ten of me.” Vivian shook her head violently. “Stop talking like this. You are not dying. Do you hear me? You are not dying.” He smiled again, softer this time. “I have no regrets.” His gaze lingered on her face with aching tenderness. “Except one.” Her sobbing quieted into ragged breaths. “I regret not meeting you sooner,” he said. “I regret not telling you every day how much I love you.” My throat tightened painfully. Tears blurred my vision as I pressed trembling fingers over the cursed mark, still trying to fight it, still refusing to surrender. Silver light flickered weakly against the black stain and vanished each time.

"You can't hold me out of my will. You can't do that!" Henry chuckled. "Watch me." He simply waved at Martins and Lauren was dragged now towards the guest room. “Diana will never come back to you!” she shouted over her shoulder as she was pulled away. “Never!” Her laughter echoed down the hallway until the door shut behind them. Silence fell heavily over the living room. Henry stood there for a moment, breathing hard. Then the anger drained out of him, leaving something much worse behind. Regret. He exhaled slowly and sank back into the couch. His elbows rested on his knees as he stared down at the floor.

He’d missed her so much that he couldn’t help himself and came inside her for the first time since they started having sex. He couldn’t control it and the moment he pulled out, he thought he was going to regret it. But he didn’t. As he cleaned her up, his cum dripped out and he remembered pushing it back in, a possessive feeling settling deep inside of him at the sight. He remembered envisioning her pregnant with his child. He had told Genevieve that he never came inside her, but that was a lie. He did once, and he didn’t regret it. What if…what if that one time led to something? He shook his head, the thought vanishing as quickly as it came.

"Emily Walker. But that's my former name. Academy regulations require graduating students to use their unit numbers as their official designations." The whole family's expressions darkened. They went into the study and talked in words I couldn't understand: "PTSD... depersonalization... long-term therapy..." After that, things got strange at home. They started tiptoeing around me. On Sophia's birthday, they made a difficult decision: to send Sophia away. This would be Sophia's last birthday with us. The living room was filled with balloons. A two-layer cake sat on the table. Sophia walked over to me, still gentle and sweet. "Happy birthday, big sister."

Could it be that…the intruder that tried to molest me was the prince and Eden had saved me from him? Everything was happening too fast for my liking. He went back to the burial ground, and the grave was done. But before lowering my body to the sand, Freya stepped out, not crying, not happy either. “I regret everything I did to my sister” she swallowed, pausing to look at my corpse. “I thought love could be forged, I thought I could rush destiny, but I guess I was wrong” “Me too” Mum said, also stepping forward. “I thought I have nothing to lose by maltreating Kira for Freya. I thought my other child would be there even if anything happens. But here I am, I lost two children at the same time”

When will the regrets end? To be continued...t

The way his fingers flexed against his thigh, as if holding back something unspeakable. Regret. I could see it creeping in, settling heavily on his shoulders. He was mourning the years he had lost, the moments he had missed. I wished there was something, anything I could do. But time doesn’t pause, doesn’t rewind. No matter how much we wish to hold on, it always slips through our fingers.

As I stared at her drunken, tear-streaked face, I felt as though a knife stabbed my heart. I used to think that even though our marriage wasn't based on love, we would still learn to love each other after marriage. But Elliot's arrival made these five years feel like a rash mistake. I let out a bitter laugh, wanting to argue back. Yet, my throat felt choked, as though something was stuck. That time, I couldn't help but question her. "Do you regret being with me that much? What do these five years mean to you, then?" She only smiled foolishly, staring off into the distance in a daze, as though she could see the vision she longed for in the void.

“I’m sorry... s-sorry... I don’t know why I hesitated to tell you I loved you. Sorry for being blind. Sorry, it took me too long to see your worth.” I took a deep breath. But it didn’t help. The pain was still there. The ache in my chest, the weight on my heart. I had so much more to say. So much I wanted to undo. But in the end, I could only say one word. Sorry. But he’ll never hear it. No matter how many times I repeat it. No matter how many tears I shed. Nothing will change. He's gone. He’s dead. And all my regrets…

Like fire wrapped in silk. And I was burning. Elvis stood beside me in the war chamber, going over reports, but my mind was elsewhere. “She hasn’t asked to see me once since the wedding,” I muttered. Elvis didn’t respond right away. Then, cautiously, he said, “My King… do you think she might remember?” I turned sharply. “Remember?” He shrugged, looking nervous. “Things… from before. If we were truly granted a second life, like you believe, what if she…?”