One Regret Is Enough Novels & Stories

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

In the seventh year of dating Lorenzo Townsend, he still didn't want to marry me. One day, I said to him, "Lorenzo, I'm getting married." He frowned slightly, not even sure if he heard me right. "The company is going public, and we're swamped. This is not the time to discuss such an insignificant topic," he said. I smiled calmly. Maybe to him, it seemed like I was pushing him to marry me. But the truth was, I was getting married, but not to him.

How rich can a person be? My wife is incredibly rich. People call her "The Queen of Cloudridge" because nearly half the city's properties are owned by her. We've been married for five years, and every time she goes out to meet her first love, she transfers a property to my name. By the time I have 99 homes in my name, she suddenly notices that something has changed. I no longer cry, beg, or ask her to stay. I simply choose the finest mansion in all of Cloudridge, bring the property deed with me, and wait for her to sign it. She signs the papers, and for the first time, she softens. "When I get back, let's go watch the fireworks together." I quietly tuck the agreement away and hum in response. But I never tell her what she's really signed this time. It's not a property deed. It's our divorce agreement.

The first thing Stella Judd did after she was reborn was kneel in front of her parents to beg sincerely, "Mom, Dad, if I have to marry into the Chilton family, I want to marry Eric!" Her parents were surprised. "Don't you like Noel, Stella? Don't you remember that Eric is Noel's uncle?" Something flashed across Stella's eyes as she was reminded of a memory. She spoke sadly, "I know what will happen if I continue liking Noel. I can't ever be with him. "Mom, Dad, I've never asked you for anything. As a heiress who has enjoyed a luxurious life in this family for as long as I can remember, I know it's my responsibility to uphold this marriage alliance. This is my only request, so I hope you can agree to it."

The night I have my bonding ceremony with the Alpha, Walter Zimmer, he gets drunk even though he usually never touches any alcohol. Just as I'm at a loss for what to do, my best friend, Rose Larson, sends me a message detailing how to take care of a drunken werewolf. Despite feeling doubtful, I do as she suggests, and Walter truly does fall asleep peacefully. Just as I'm about to thank Rose, Walter suddenly hugs me from behind. His hot breath brushes against my neck as he murmurs a sentence that utterly breaks my heart. "Rose, you're the one I wanted to mark…" My world crumbles around me, but that's not all. His shirt slips down his shoulder when he moves, revealing the rose tattooed right over his heart. My mind goes blank, and all I can do is stare at the tattoo. I refuse to believe what I'm seeing. I've known Rose for 20 years, and she's my closest friend. As it turns out, Walter didn't get drunk because he was overjoyed about becoming my mate. He simply used the alcohol to drown his sorrows over not being able to take the she-wolf he wanted as his Luna. In that moment, our newly formed mate bond seems like nothing but a joke. Since that's the case, I decide to give up my position as the Luna and let them be together. However, after I leave, Walter loses control and shifts into his wolf. He then claws the rose tattoo to shreds. "Lily, I was mistaken. You're the Luna I truly love. Please, give me another chance to love you again…"

Five years after I died, Delia—my wife, a doctor—tried to dump her first love's new mess on me again. She stormed into my old place, waving some fake agreement with my name on it, but all she found was dust. Panicking, she ran downstairs and cornered the shop owner. "William?" he said. "He's been dead five years. Heard the family of that malpractice case found him. Stabbed him up bad." Delia laughed it off, like the guy was making it up. "So what if he got suspended? He's still sulking over that?" She rolled her eyes. "Tell him this—he's got three days. If he doesn't show, I'm cutting off his sister's cancer treatment." She muttered something ugly, slammed the door, and left. The shop owner just watched her go, shaking his head. "There's no sister left," he said quietly. "She died years ago... couldn't pay for treatment."

After my partner, Kael Arden, and I decided to hold our mating ceremony, his childhood sweetheart, Mira Frost, suddenly left on her own, heading to the dangerous border overrun with rogue wolves. On the very day our mating ceremony was to take place, news came that she had died in an accident. Kael showed no reaction. He still followed the steps of the ceremony and completed the mutual marking with me. However, on the day I was heavily pregnant and about to give birth, he forced an entire bottle of silver water down my throat and locked me in the basement. As I died in agony, I still heard his cold voice beside my ear. "Mira’s death was all because of you! You couldn’t stand her, so you deliberately forced her to the border! You have to pay the price!" When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to seven days before the mating ceremony... Since he loved Mira that much, I would choose to make them whole in this life.

For three years of marriage, Jeanette Schafer had devoted herself completely to caring for Skyler Weisberg, who was confined to a wheelchair. Yet, Skyler harbored nothing but contempt for her. He hated her touch so much that the last time she accidentally brushed against his legs, he locked her out of their home for 99 days. The day finally came when Skyler's legs had healed enough for him to stand again. Yet, the first thing he did was to drive straight to the airport to pick up his first love. Years of selfless devotion and tender care meant nothing compared to his 'the one that got away'. Swallowing the heartbreak, Jeanette made a call. She whispered, "The contract is fulfilled. I'm filing for divorce." Only after she walked away did Skyler realize what he had lost. But by then, it was already too late.

Ernest West left the courtroom with wings on his feet. Leaving Don James was, in Ernest's opinion, the best thing he had ever done for himself. No more tense silences. No more Don's silent, smothering adoration. Ernest had been released. Three years have passed since then. Now, what once was the best choice has turned into a noose around their necks. There is a sinister provision buried within the small print of the divorce papers that Ernest's attorney overlooked; they are obligated to live together and manage the small beach hotel that they used to own as a couple for an entire year. Thus, Ernest finds himself back amid the groaning wooden boards and salty panes of glass within the walls of where their love once withered away. However, Don is no longer the same weak and longing man that Ernest abandoned. He now stands as an intimidating pillar of cold indifference, forged by the stony resolve and lack of concern. Not even a passing glance comes from Don’s green eyes, which regard Ernest with only polite reserve. A year of closeness. A year of unresolved tension. A year of dealing with each and every lie that Ernest tried to bury beneath "irreconcilable differences." In the beginning, the plan is a silent battle—appointments stuck to the fridge, dinners taken in different corners of the house. Yet, there’s something about closeness that reveals the whole truth. Ernest discovers the picture albums that Don never discarded. He listens to telephone conversations in the dead of night that reveal the loneliness he feels himself. And gradually, painfully, he discovers that the greatest error made wasn’t the separation. It was letting Don leave.

At the family meeting, my mafia Don husband spared his secretary one glance. I turned and walked away, canceled our wedding anniversary celebration, and decided I was done with him. I signed my name on the divorce papers I had prepared long ago. When Matteo Santoro saw the agreement, he called me at once, his voice tight with restrained anger. "What are you trying to pull this time? Is this really because I looked at Elena?" "Yes," I said. "Because you looked at her."