Komik Instant Regret Novels & Stories

My cheeks burned from the pain of the slap he dealt me. "Really? If you regret marrying me, let's just get a divorce!" I wiped away my tears as I finally said the words I had been holding back all this time. I had planned to wait until Frank's orders became official before leaving Victor, but I could not wait any longer. The hate and grievance I had endured in my past life came flooding back, and I felt as if I was wrapped in a cocoon of those negative feelings. I could not breathe nor escape from being trapped inside.

They fluttered to the floor like confetti at a funeral, and for five minutes I felt something close to victory. Then regret settled in, slow and heavy as a second skin. I was on my knees with a roll of tape, picking scraps out of the carpet, fitting them together like a puzzle I’d already solved. The lines didn’t match. The edges gaped. I sat back on my heels and stared at the mess in my hands. The rage that had felt so good was gone now, leaving nothing but exhaustion and the cold, familiar weight of regret. I had nothing. I was nothing. And I’d just destroyed the one thing that could have saved us out of spite.

This is not an update. I want to use this opportunity to thank every one of you, my dearest and sweetest readers who took the time to read, comment, and gift my book. Thank you all so much, I appreciate you guys. As you all know, we have come to the end of My Ex-Husband’s Regret. Yippee!!!! (I hope you enjoyed the journey of the story) Yeah, this is the end guys but does that mean the end for you and me? No, I will be writing another book soon and I would love to have you guys as my readers again.

before hanging up. I gave a bitter smile. It was clear he had completely forgotten his promise to Yael. Yael noticed the sadness on my face and, instead of showing his disappointment, came over to comfort me. “It’s okay, Mommy. I didn’t really want to go to the amusement park that much anyway.” His words, which were so mature for his age, broke my heart even more. The next day, Silas finally called. When I answered, I already knew what to expect.

She closed the door behind her, leaving Michael alone in the hallway, his hand still resting on the doorframe as he stared at the spot where she had stood. Michael leaned his head against the cool wood of the door, the regret settling in his chest like a stone. He had wanted to make things right, to bridge the gap between him and Wanda, but now it felt wider than ever. The past he thought he had moved on from was still there, lurking in every corner, pulling him back just when he thought he was free. And as he stood there, the echoes of Martha’s words and Wanda’s pained expression played over in his mind, a reminder that some mistakes were harder to outrun than others.

I could feel the resentment in Wregan's voice — he's still into her. "Maybe it's because you gave her the universe and not space," I joked and he laughed a little but I immediately noticed that he was offended by what I said. I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry, I was just kidding," I quickly retracted what was said. Wregan stopped speaking and was stunned by the artificial wave hitting the artificial shore in front of us.

"But I can't say I regret it." A sigh of relief escaped me, quickly followed by a fresh wave of panic. Unexpected but no regrets. What did that even mean? The words were a tiny balm, but a much larger, more pressing question was screaming in my head. I knew it was too soon, far too soon. My inner voice was already berating me, calling me foolish and impulsive. But the words were out before I could stop them. "What are we?"

I close my eyes and pray to whoever is listening: Please don’t make me regret this. Please help me this once. I reach for the door, turn the knob, and only hesitate for a tiny moment before finally pushing it open. If instant regret had a fragrance, it must feel like the one that washes over me the second I enter the room. It’s warm, sweet, and sickening all at once. It makes me nauseous. When I thought about taking this chance, I didn’t expect to get punched by everything that happened inside these four walls. I didn’t expect to get hit so hard with the memories, the ones I tried so damn hard to push back in my head.

"Abigail, I was tricked by Alicia back then. That's why I thought you were wicked. I still don't understand why I could think that way. I raised you myself. How could I not know what kind of person you are?" Michael's eyes were also rimmed red. He looked at me with overflowing regret. "Abigail, I know you don't want to see us anymore, but I still need to apologize. We never meant for all those things to happen." I took in the regret in their eyes. It didn't seem fake. For a moment, I didn't know what to say. What I could surmise was what had happened to them. Back then, under the control of the storyline, they had lost their sense of reason and sided with Alicia.

Piano and laughter in the background: “Rhea, look what we got. Seafood. Your favorite—” The voice message was only seven seconds long. I shut the screen. My white breath instantly scattered on the wind. Seafood? I’m allergic. They never seem to remember. Christmas arrived. I opted for triple pay to stay on site. On New Year’s Eve, I cooked myself a pot of instant spaghetti, adding a boiled egg and Parmesan cheese. Outside, the distant casino fireworks were an artificial sunrise, bleaching the desert white. I raised my cup and toasted my own shadow: “To the ghost who walked out of fire.”