His Deep Regret Novel Novels & Stories

Letting out a deep sigh, he leaned back into the sofa, relaxing into it as he stared at her. "Of course I was. Who wouldn't?" He asked rhetorically and chuckled. He continued. "It was the worst kind of pain I had ever felt back then. I couldn't even believe it, it felt like an impossible dream." Vicky felt something inside her break, she remembered the day she had left with Matthew Lee, she couldn't stop crying for days. She kept thinking about Romeo, regretting her decision every single day. Romeo smiled. "But, that was years ago, it took quite some time, true, but I've healed completely, it's like the scar was never there."

At least, Freya hadn't turned her back on him and that was the most important thing. However, he couldn't shake off the fact that he had already lost so much and was bound to lose more if he pushed further. His heart ached, and he felt a wave of despair wash over him as he thought of that. He poured another drink, the whiskey glugging into the glass. The sound echoed through the silence, a rhythm which matched his wandering thoughts. He leaned on the couch, his glassy eyes fixed on the whiskey bottle and empty glasses which littered the coffee table. He was lost in a sea of self-doubt and regret, the once-confident CEO now a shadow of his former self.

He looked at me like he was searching for something-a crack, a weakness, a reason to believe I didn’t mean it. “I regret every moment with you,” I said. My voice was calm, but every word cut deep. “Every single one. I regret trying. I regret loving you. I regret begging. I regret offering you everything and getting nothing back. I regret wasting three years of my life on someone who never saw me as anything more than a business transaction.” My voice didn’t shake. “I regret all of it, you asshole.” Damon’s face changed. His mouth twitched, his eyes flickered. For a second, I thought I saw pain — real pain — but it didn’t matter anymore.

I said quietly. Then the moving service i called arrived and i started loading my life into boxes, ready to disappear into a city that didn’t know my name or my shame. Ready to become someone new, because the old Ivy was dead anyway.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"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.

It was etched in his bones, and it had been his ruin. Fortunately, really, Fortunately, that face had appeared before him again. Like a drowning rat with no savior in sight, Finn desperately clung to his rare light, hoping to return to safe ground. Even though he knew he wasn't worth it. But then again, he had always been known to be a greedy person. Why else would he hurt so many people? "Lucian..." He called. "I regret it. I regretted it so much. And... I keep regretting it every day." From the moment he received that call, what he felt was a deep regret.

I had walked away from the villa without looking back even though my heart shattered the moment the ink dried. Nathan had delivered the news in the worst way possible. I was sad, angry, and embarrassed by what had happened. He had made up his mind before we arrived. Our “romantic getaway” had been nothing but a plan to humiliate me in front of his colleagues and business associates. I could feel his eyes watching me. Waiting for an outburst, a reaction from me. I had given him everything except my dignity and I intend to keep it that way. “Do you regret it?” He asked, finally breaking the silence

It was regret. Not the simple kind. Not the kind you feel when you make a mistake and wish you could undo it. This was deeper. More complicated. Because I couldn’t tell if I regretted what happened… or if I regretted how much I had wanted it. The memory was already pressing at the edges of my mind his hands gripping my hips like he’d waited his entire life to touch me, his mouth claiming mine like we were the only two people left in the world, the way his wolf had come through his eyes in molten gold and refused to let me go.

I heard it when I was seven years old when I saw the first dead person I'd ever seen: eyes open, blood pooling on the barn floor. In my profession, regret is easy to come by. They piled up, each sapping a man's resolve. I don't have many regrets; until now, I only had one following me. I regretted Dianna when she married my uncle Vincent. Recently, and more than that, I regret signing for Gallena. I want her twin. On my bed. Stick on the wall. Kneel.

He watched her from across the room, the space between them feeling vast and unbridgeable, the regret a heavy stone sinking in his gut, pulling him down into a dark,su#ocating despair. gut. Every careless word, every unanswered call, every time he'd chosen his own stubborn pride over her soft, forgiving eyes replayed in his mind like a broken record.He remembered the curve of her smile the !rst time he'd told her she was beautiful, the way her hand !t perfectly in his, the trust that used to shine in her eyes likesunlight on a clear lake. He'd shattered it, piece by piece, and now stood amidst the ruins, desperate to rebuild but paralyzed by his own failures. He yearned to rewind, torewrite