Sorry, Too Late
For three years, I was nothing but a replacement. After my hundredth blood donation to my three wives' true love, I vanished from their lives.
They bombarded my phones with thousands of phone calls and ten times that number of text messages.
'I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, honey! I know I let our mom down. You can do anything to me, but please don't leave me!'
'Please, honey, I'm sorry. I'll do anything. I won't do it again, I swear! Just come back!'
'You can't leave me, honey! You're going to drive me mad! I can't live without you!'
'Please, just tell me where you are! Take my call, please!'
…
I changed my SIM card once I went back to Imperia and blocked all my wives' contacts. Peace and quiet came back to me.
Three months later, I was told that my wives' companies went bust, and the love of their lives swindled them out of every single cent they had.
And now they were scouring the land for me.
That was a joke. They did not panic when they still had everything. They should never have done what they did. Too late for regrets.