His Deep Regret Novel Novels & Stories

And by the time he reached the final page, he finally realized just how much I had loved him—how much of my happiness had revolved around him and how much of my suffering had been caused by him. Connor curled up on the floor, holding the diary close, pressing desperate kisses against its cover as if it were my face. "Clara, I'm sorry," he choked out. "I regret it so much. Please… Please come back to me… Come back to me, will you?" I sat beside him, emotionless, watching his agony unfold. What use was regret? Could regret bring me back to life? No. I wouldn't be moved by a murderer's tears. …

My tone was steady, as though I were merely stating a fact. Silas’s face drained of all color. He knew, deep down, that it was his own doing—the trust he shattered with his own hands. He clutched my arm like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline. “We still have time. We have so much time ahead of us. Please…” I shook my head. “Silas, the marks of hurt never fade. When you refused to save Yael, when you accused and berated him without listening, it was already over. You made sure there wasn’t enough time for us.”

He said and his grip on my hands loosened a bit. “I agree that it took me a long time to stop being an asshole, a godless crook. It took me a long time to realize that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. But now that I’ve finally realized it…” He let go of my hands and slowly went down on his knees. I watched him in confusion, wondering what he was doing and then I noticed his eyes were misty. He was about to cry. “… I want you to know that I regret ever rejecting you.” He said. “I regret ever neglecting your love. I regret ever yelling at you and tormenting you.” He was already shedding tears now and seeing him this way touched me in a deep way.

She said that the two of us weren't at the same level and my days would be very hard. I smiled back then and said that I was just a fake daughter of an affluent family, so I was still the same as James in terms of status level. We were both from a poor family background. I felt that I didn't care if I had a difficult life. I was willing to accept everything because I fell in love with James. Rory shook her head back then and said that I was going to regret my decision. She was right. I was now regretting my decision. I had been wondering recently, would I live for a couple more years if I hadn't married James?

The grandeur of my achievements felt inconsequential in the wake of the profound loss that engulfed me. Sleep eluded me, and when the night descended, I found myself grappling with the shadows of regret that haunted my thoughts. The love letters from Isabella, concealed artifacts of a past I had failed to confront, now lay bare the complexities of my heart. The symphony of regret played relentlessly in the recesses of my mind, each note a reminder of the choices that had led to this desolate chapter of my life.

“But for now, forgiveness is still impossible. Forgiveness will be a sign for me to finally let him go. And I won’t. I won’t. Because the mourning that I have right now or for the past year, won’t still suffice to what he truly deserves. In the first place, you’ve never been there. And to be exact, you are certainly the one who caused his death.” He didn’t know how long he had to spend absorbing all her words. All that was running through his mind were the words slowly lingering – no, imprinted in his heart, mind, and soul… forever. He was full of regrets in his life, but this was the deepest and most sorrowful regret that he knew he had ever experienced.

Every single place he looked at, reminded him of her, and Christian regretted and hated how after all these things happening he still loved Sara so much. She had not come to see him, she wasn’t picking her cell phone, but still… The part of him reserved for her was still intact and it hurt so much. The pain was indescribable, and he couldn’t even put a name to it again. This was worse than heartbreak. Worse than… “Hey!” Dinah called out waving her hands in front of him, and raking his hands through his hair, Christian apologized, “So sorry. I must have zoned out. You were saying something right?”

Not once, in the whole of my life, even back when I was actively dating and hoping for a family of my own. He looks at her as though her future still matters, and her happiness is worth protecting. As though there’s still time for them. The thought leaves me motionless in the center of the room, still clutching her dress, while something old and bitter and heartbreakingly human shifts inside my chest. Because jealousy is a simpler word than grief, and grief is a simpler word than regret. But regret… …Regret can hollow out an entire life. Iris is not temporary, and she’s not a guest or a passing distraction. She’s becoming part of Ashcroft Manor itself, part of Thomas’s life and his future.

"Every conversation. Every fight. Every time you looked at me like I was the only person in the room." He was quiet for a moment. The jukebox switched to a sad song about a truck and a dog. "So do I," he said. "And most of it keeps me up at night." We talked for three hours. Not about business. Not about Victor. Not about the past. About small things. Books we had read. Movies that made us cry. The way Lily laughed when she was trying not to laugh — that snorting thing she does that she got from me. For the first time in years, I forgot to be angry.

Raw. Painful. Real. "And now suddenly you're my grandfather?" The room became silent. Victor's face remained unreadable. For a moment she thought he might ignore her. Then… Something shifted. The older man looked away. Briefly. Only briefly. But long enough. Long enough to reveal something she'd never expected. Regret. Real regret. The discovery stunned her. Victor Blackwell wasn't supposed to regret anything. Men like him didn't. Yet she'd seen it.