Regret Divorcing Husband Novels & Stories

That one word had never appeared in Gerard's dictionary, not even when he was being a punk, but now he was feeling it. He regretted it. He regretted everything that happened three years ago. He regretted following his grandfather’s order to divorce his beloved. He regretted putting an act with his childhood friend, Mia so that Ivy would agree to divorce him. But what was the point of regretting everything that had happened? It couldn't change the fact that he divorced her while she was pregnant with his child. It couldn't bring his beloved wife back from the dead. But oh, how he wished it could.

I shook my head in disagreement, “But this isn’t silly.” She placed a hand on my shoulder, and a sad smile made its way to her lips. “That’s not the point I’m making, Rosalind. All I mean is that, most divorces always end in regret. Most times, the couples always realize it was something they could have avoided by just putting aside pride and taking time to understand the person they claimed to love.” She sighed. “When I spoke to James, he seemed down and sad about this divorce plan. I could feel he cared for you, and losing you wasn’t something he wanted to do. Don’t lose that, Rosalind. Cherish your husband.”

“Are you saying you don’t regret choosing me over the woman you might be in love with?” He took a deep breath. Then he said, “I’ve had you this way longer. It may be harder to let go of what we have. I’ve never regretted my decisions in the past, Brianne. So please don’t make me feel like I should start regretting some of them now.” I stared at him. “Travis, sooner or later, I will find the man I have been looking for. We’ll divorce and I will remarry. That was the plan, remember?”

She knew it wasn't healthy, but she couldn't help it. Every time she sobered up, Carter's unfamiliar face would haunt her again. "I want a divorce," Rhea murmured. Maeve's eyes widened. "Are you serious? Have you really thought it through? You might regret it in two days." Rhea shook her head and smiled faintly. "I never regretted marrying him. And I won't regret divorcing him either." Maeve raised her glass to that. "Well, you wasted your best years on him. But at least you're still smart. Leave this marriage, go back to work, and shine like you were always meant to."

Gregory's voice grew husky as he continued, "I've lived nearly 30 years without ever regretting a single decision. I always believed that every choice I made was the right one, but…" Anathea could sense what he was about to say next. Maybe it was the alcohol on his breath or the heat from his body, but a dull ache started pulsing in her temples. Gregory lowered his head, resting his chin against her neck. Anathea felt his warm breath slip beneath her collar as he murmured, "I regret it." Her heart skipped a beat, then stumbled into an unsteady rhythm, faltering in her chest. Gregory continued, "I regret letting you go. I never wanted to trap you, but I do regret signing those divorce papers.

That, furious at him, I'd deliberately over-watered my favorite orchid until it died. Little moments like that, over and over, had slowly turned me into a real person in his head. Somewhere along the way, his heart had shifted without him noticing. Except by that point, the damage between us had already hardened past fixing. I was done. I just wanted out. So he'd avoided me. Pulled every trick in the book to stall the divorce, hoping to buy himself time to undo what he'd broken. None of it had worked. There was already someone else in my eyes. There wasn't going to be room for him ever again.

"I thought you should know that your daughter has abandoned her marriage vows, taken a child away from his father, and is now—well, I'll let you draw your own conclusions about her relationship with her new employer." The silence on the other end of the line was thick with unspoken judgment. "She divorced you," Robert repeated slowly. "Abandoned her marriage." "Without warning. Without attempting counseling or reconciliation. She simply decided she was done and left." Thomas injected just the right amount of wounded dignity into his voice. "I tried to make our marriage work despite—well, despite everything. But apparently my efforts weren't enough." "She was never grateful," Robert muttered,

The nurse blinked. “I’m sorry?” “I said no.” This time my voice was firmer. “I don’t want to see him.” She hesitated, clearly caught off guard. “But he insists he’s your husband.” A bitter smile tugged at my lips. “Husband?” I almost laughed. “What kind of husband ignores his wife while she’s screaming in pain?” The nurse fell silent. “What kind of husband tells his wife there’s no money for her medication…” “…then buys another woman a mansion?”

> "When you told me you were pregnant, I panicked. I was terrified I’d hurt you, afraid I’d turn into the man who destroyed his own family like my father did. But my fear turned me into a coward. I ran away." Her breathing turned shaky. A quiet sob escaped her lips. > "You know what I regret most? It’s not losing you. It’s losing your trust." > "You stood strong on the ruins I left behind, and you kept going. While I—the man you loved—crumbled and vanished." She cried harder. The letter didn’t contain sweet promises or pleas to come back. There was no "please forgive me" or "I can’t live without you." Just truth. Guilt. Regret.

Never straight, always bitter when talking to people. "You're so going to regret being this arrogant, Hunter." Cole spat and I chuckled. Someone needs to tell him that I've been regretting for a while now. Not just a while, for over a year actually. My regret started the day I put my signature on the divorce papers. "Just tell me what it is. Is it Tyler stirring up my house to find out my location? Tell him I'm on Columbia island. He can come to get Claire. I won't stop him." I said in a hoarse voice. Cole went silent for a few minutes.