Regret Deeply Crossword Clue Novels & Stories

“Why would she ask to see me of all people?” “Because Sophia is an angel from the sky. She still thinks of monsters like you even in pain.” I smiled sadistically, “The way you speak of me, you would think we weren’t married at some point.” He stared at me through the rearview mirror, “Of all my regrets, marrying you was my biggest one.” His words stung more than they should. “You know, even though you’ve hurt me to the point of no repair, I wouldn’t even say what you just said—especially to your face.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll get out of the way, I’ll leave. Anyway, no matter what I do you find me an eyesore. I’ll just disappear.” Saying this, he stormed out of the room, seething. Candice broke into a cold sweat. What had that old scumbag been about to say just now? That she was Margaret’s daughter? Was he afraid his image as a womanizing playboy wasn’t full enough yet? What on earth was he trying to do! Old Mrs. Lawrence: “Sorry, my son’s brain isn’t quite right.” …The chairman of the Arch Group has something wrong with his brain. Imagine that headline going around.

She… she really did it. With a flare of fury, I hurled my copy of the certificate into the trash. “Scarlett Taylor!” I roared, my voice shaking with rage. “Let’s see how long you can play it tough. You will regret this. I swear it.” Without even turning her head, she replied: “The only thing I regret in my life… was marrying you.” She flagged down a cab, got in, and disappeared without a single glance back. Cold. Sharp. Final.

Chapter Six Too Late Abe Regret was a funny thing. People always talked about it like it arrived all at once. Like a lightning strike. Like some dramatic realization that changed everything overnight. In reality? Regret came in pieces. Tiny little reminders scattered throughout your day. A song. A scent. A restaurant. A laugh that sounded almost like hers. And every single one felt like a knife. I stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office. The city stretched endlessly below.

That's why, if I could go back to where we were still okay, I would treat him right—so damn right that he wouldn't think of getting away from me and regret choosing me. "If I were him, I would regret dating you," he spoke again. "When I asked him if he regretted everything, he answered no. I asked him why. Do you know what he answered? Because he was happy when you were still together. His reason was so shallow, wasn't it? He also said that all relationships lead to breaking up, so that's okay. He dated you because he loved you; he didn't regret doing so. The only thing he regretted was that he fell so deep that he didn't know how to come up anymore. He also said that he regretted depending

a soft, ethereal warmth that tasted like a memory of a childhood summer. "We are so sorry, Sarah," Margaret whispered, her eyes shining with a profound, aching regret. "We never, ever wanted you to find out the truth by yourself, all alone. We didn't plan to keep it away from you forever. But life... life happened so fast, darling. The illness, the secrets, the pride of the Hale name... it swallowed us before we could make it right. But we left you something to fall back on."

“Are you sure this isn’t because you’re still thinking about Keegan? That maybe… You regret that divorce?” My hands freeze from brushing the rim of my glass. Regret? Of course not. To be honest, it did cross my mind more than once. But it isn’t for the same reason as he or the other might think. No, I don’t regret leaving Keegan. It just temporarily feels empty after having to let go of what I have been holding on to for so long. I’m more of a sad regret. I know better than that. So, I say honestly with firmness in my tone as I shake my head. “No, I don’t regret it, and I’ll never will.”

He climbs slowly to his feet, grunting as he stretches out his back, before reaching down to pick up my plate. “Do you ever regret it?” I can’t help but ask, though I’m not even sure what I want to know. Regret life? Regret logging? He seems to understand what I mean though, as he smiles gently. “Nothing in life is ever worth regretting. You see, Lena, regret is like mold. You can scrub and scrub until it’s out of sight, but it always comes back if you let things get damp again. So, I try not to let life get damp.”

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.

"It's okay, Ellison. We all understand you're worried about Becky. She's had quite a scare, and it's only right that you'd rush back to be with her instead of getting married—" "That's not it." Ellison cut her off, and after a long pause, where his throat seemed to struggle with the words, he finally spoke. His voice was hoarse and shaky. "I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert. "Lily... she's gone..." A hush fell over the whole living room. I did not know how much time had passed before I heard a loud crash. Mom's glass had hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces. "What did you say...?"