Husband's Regret Novels & Stories

Instead of hugging her, she merely tilted Niana’s chin up with fingers adorned with a large diamond ring. "Your father was too stubborn. He thought he could 'sell' you to the Miller family to save his bankrupt pride without asking my permission," Valerie hissed. "He forbade me from speaking, he kept you away from me because he knew I could see your husband's foul intentions from day one." "I’m sorry, Mom," Niana murmured in a hoarse voice. Valerie released Niana’s chin, then turned her back to her daughter, staring at the Van Doren ancestral portrait hanging on the wall. "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to yourself for letting trash like Sean trample on the Van Doren blood flowing through y

Matthew arrived in front of me and opened his mouth to ask about something, probably about me partying with foreign men, but when the words reached his tongue, he swallowed them back before finally asking, “I’m sorry. Could you come home?” I stared at him coldly. He must have learned that Henry had died from a car crash. “Do you really think that an apology is worth anything now?” Matthew held my hand with regret rife on his face. “Wendy, I know that I was wrong. I let you down and ruined Henry’s life—” “Shut up! You’re not worthy of talking about Henry!” I broke off Matthew’s grip. I had thought that I no longer cared about Matthew, but after seeing him, all my emotions rose uncontrollably

But on his deathbed, his grandfather had told him he wasn't allowed to fail me, and so he'd honored it, and married me. He'd known I was rarely at the Ashford house, that I probably didn't even know about him and Seraphina, but it hadn't stopped him from resenting the marriage. And yet in those years, living under the same roof, he'd learned things about me. Even without meaning to. That I got treated badly at my jobs. That I'd baked bread once and hidden it on the top shelf because I didn't want to share any with him. That, furious at him, I'd deliberately over-watered my favorite orchid until it died.

“Look, Rach, Darius is your husband now; he deserves to know how much of a threat Andrew is being. He must handle his nephew before we take serious action. “But you know that can’t be possible, not after we get the stolen shares. Dad had specifically warned me, and you know I had let him down once by marrying Andrew; I don’t want to do that again…. I owe him this much, I reason. “You’re right, but I can’t help but want—“ She is cut off by her phone ringing. I walked to the bathroom, deciding to freshen up. As I turned on the shower, the warm water cascading on my body, my lips quivered as I broke into sobs. I miss Andrew so much that it hurts. I miss the man he used to be, the one I fell in

“Do you know how difficult it is to see happily married couples and know that would never be me? Because even though my husband acted like he cared, I could see in his eyes that the words were said for my benefit. Not out of honesty. “It was hell to listen to our supposed friends tell me that my husband, the man who vowed to love me, made fun of my body and weight thinking I wouldn’t ever find out. “Worst of all, to live with the regret of knowing I wasted seven years of my life on him? That it took me that long to grow the fucking balls to tell him to go fuck himself?” She licked her lips. “No. You don’t know. I live with the regret of wishing I’d taken a stand sooner.”

I loved him too much to risk upsetting him. Should I leave and give them some space? The thought crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. He was my husband, I had every right to be here. Still, I couldn’t help feeling foolish, like some desperate girl chasing after love. Damn it, Rose. Absentmindedly, my hand slipped, and the drink spilled across the table. I panicked instantly. “Rose, how much clumsier can you get?” my husband barked. His loud voice startled me, and I jumped to my feet, hurriedly wiping the table with my napkins.

Tori’s voice was barely a whisper. “It was a mistake.” I exhaled heavily. “But you’re unhappy with your marriage.” “I’ve lived with that for the past three years, surely I can do that for a few more.” “Really? You’re going to do this?” “I ask again. How much to make you leave and keep quiet?” “I don’t want your goddamned money. You’re going to regret this.” She picked up her bag and walked out the door, slamming it behind her. I had to hold myself back from screaming my lungs out. Lately, I found myself doing things and regretting them immediately.

"No, I don't need company. My wife was kidnapped and you think you can do anything to cheer me up?" "Wife?" She slowly repeated the word. "Have a goodnight sir." "Hang on!" I called out, feeling remorseful but she was gone. I sighed again. "I didn't mean to hurt you." What did I say that was hurtful anyway? "You have a guest." One of my housekeepers said, strolling in with Charles. The family stout man with a round face and full hair. "Welcome, man." I was too sad to even stand. "It's been years since I set my eyes on you, how are you?"

But it wouldn’t have been funny. “Understand what?” He stepped closer. Not enough to invade her space. Just enough that his next words felt personal. “What regret looks like.” The air shifted. Lena felt it immediately. That dangerous pull she had spent months resisting. Because the regret in his voice sounded human. And that made him harder to dismiss. She steadied herself. “You think saying this changes anything?” “No.” He answered too quickly for it to be rehearsed. “I know it doesn’t.” A beat.

Guilt and regret hit me as I grappled with the profound realization that I had been ignorant of such fundamental aspects of my wife's life. "I never really asked her about her family. I guess that's why she didn't tell me," I muttered, my voice tinged with sorrow and self-reproach. "What kind of a husband have I been all these years not to know anything about my wife?" I lamented, my heart heavy with the weight of my oversight.