Drowning Him In Regret Novels & Stories

“I didn’t do this. I swear I’ll prove it’s fake.” Her eyes met his—wounded, tired, and burning with disbelief. “Your promises,” she whispered, “always leave new scars.” She turned away and walked off through the storm, leaving Adrian standing motionless in the rain, his heart sinking with every step she took. “Rosemary…” he whispered, the sound swallowed by thunder. Only the rain answered him—each drop like the echo of regret he could never wash away. --- Elsewhere, Casandra watched her phone screen as the headlines exploded.

] Tears welled up unexpectedly, and when I touched my cheek, my fingers came away wet. So, they had already made a vow like that long ago. No wonder he had jumped so decisively in our last life despite how fiercely he usually clung to survival. My heart finally shattered completely. I looked at the rapidly rising water, took a deep breath, and jumped in.

Because of his inside which was rotten and crumbled as much as the weather, a gloomy mood stabbed his lungs. The self-loathing rushed in that inside that exquisitely woven parting script, himself was just a consumed supporting role. Even though it is the last time, he should have left at least a single photo which is the evidence of the flash that we existed while breathing the same air. That lingering regret settled down like dregs at his chest bottom and tenaciously caught his ankle.

I felt like I was drowning, sinking deeper into the abyss. “Please… anyone…” My voice was barely audible now, lost in the oppressive silence of the darkened room.

But taking advantage of a woman who’s been broken by my son is the lowest I’ve ever fallen. I groan and rush into the bathroom. I turn on the shower and leave the temperature on cold. I need the freezing water to shake me out of my feverish need. Regret is a venomous emotion. It holds on to you within its grasp and twists you until I don’t know what’s up or down. I have many regrets. I regret not getting help for my mother and not standing up to my father. I regret falling under the spell of a predator who manipulated me when she saw my pain and trauma. I regret succumbing to my darkness for that beautiful woman who entranced me. I regret producing a son who’s just like my father.

Edwin's POV I am at my lowest point. Nothing remains but the hollow shell of who I was. No job, no purpose, no direction. Just a man drowning in his own grief and regret, treading water with arms that have grown too tired to keep moving, in an ocean that has long since stopped caring whether I sink or swim.

He knew how to swim, but his body would not move. It was as if something was holding him down. He struggled. He could not breathe. Everything blurred. Memories flashed before his eyes, one after another, like pages in a book. A life filled with regret. Regret for marrying into the royal family. Regret for never fighting back. Regret for enduring everything in silence. What did I do to deserve this? All he ever wanted was her love. And in the end, he died without ever receiving it. That was the last thing he remembered.

STORM “the only person who is going to regret this is you,” That is all I hear before I am thrust in front, and I lose my balance. I feel myself falling and I can't stop it. then my back hits cold water and I know she has pushed me into the pool. I close my eyes feeling the sting of water in my eye, water rushing through my nose and mouth. I don’t know how to swim to save my life, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise to me that I might be drowning in this pool right now the last thing I will feel is the way the alcohol in my veins is making me feel like my drowning is happening in slow motion.

He downed another shot, his eyes glassy with tears. “I lost her,” he whispered, his voice breaking again. “I really lost the best thing that ever happened to me… and I can never get her back.” The rain was still pouring when he finally stumbled out of the bar. He walked through the storm with no destination, soaked to the bone, crying openly like a wounded animal. The rain washed over his face, but it couldn’t wash away the regret that consumed him. “I’m sorry, Sara…” he whispered into the downpour, his voice hoarse and broken. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Blood oozed from his hands, but he continued on as if oblivious to the pain. I floated silently behind him. I watched Lamont bury his face in his hands and weep. I watched the blood from his fingers stain his face. I watched him as he was covered in dust and grit. What was the point of regretting it at this moment? The damage was already done. Rescue workers and police arrived and pinned Lamont down. He broke down and was mad with grief. “Calm down, Mr. Steward! “This is dangerous. Let us handle it, okay?”