Regret is only the beginning Novels & Stories

"I... I hope you won't regret that." I shook my head immediately, firmly. There was no hesitation, no doubt. "Regret?" I echoed, my voice raspy. "No. Not at all." I reached out and gently stroked her cheek. "My only regret is that it took me this long. That it took... this... for me to truly see."

“Let it.” XENIA’S POV This table is not polished. It is not perfect. But it is mine. And sometimes that is all you need to start again. XENIA’S POV This table is not polished. It is not perfect. But it is mine. And sometimes, that is all you need to start again.

I assured myself that I was no longer the person he used to be as he pleased then, I was different and I was never going to be that person again. I picked up my bag and drove off to the office. My reflection in the reflection of the company’s building almost startled me. The woman looking back, neatly dressed, my makeup soft yet precise, I was composed, ready. But I knew, my hands still trembled softly around the handle of my handbag. It's just work, a new beginning, I muttered to myself as I pushed the door open, a fresh start, "I've done this before and I can do it again, even better.” I muttered to myself.

A new feeling had woven its ugly clutches around him for the first time in three years…not guilt, not worry…. Justin felt regret.

The one who wanted to own me, and who couldn't stand seeing me happy without him. The man I'd spoken to today wasn't that man. He was something else, and one I wasn't ready to name. The elevator doors opened. I stepped out into the lobby. "Regret," I whispered, the right word suddenly coming to me. Regret was far more dangerous than hatred. Hatred was easy to walk away from. I'd walked away from hatred a thousand times. But regret had a way of making you look back. I looked toward the elevators, toward the man I'd spent two years trying to forget, and I wondered if maybe, just maybe, forgetting him wasn't possible.

The torture of the road not taken, now personally designed and delivered by the cosmos. I feel hollowed out. Devastated by my own choice. But then I feel it. A shift in the air around the statue. The profound, primordial sorrow that has always emanated from it… it’s not less. It’s more. But it’s woven through with something new. Something fragile. A single, shining thread of… hope. We refused its offer. We looked into the face of perfect happiness and chose our flawed, painful reality instead. And for the First Regret, the very concept of loss, our choice is the first thing that has ever given it a reason to believe in something else.

She said to the ultrasound of her baby from years ago. Everything Lucas did to her came running back…like a salt rubbed on her bruises. She cleanse her tears, “I won’t forgive you Lucas. You hurt me deeply!” She concluded.

Watching my every move. Regret. That word gnaws at me. It makes my stomach churn. What does that even mean? What have I done to deserve this? I don’t even know who this person is, and they’re already telling me what I’ll regret. I grab my blanket from the bed, clutching it tightly around my body. I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t handle this anymore. I want to turn the phone off, throw it across the room, but something stops me.

My chest tightens, and for a second I try to move again, try to reach for my phone, like somehow fixing that one thing will fix everything else. My hand barely lifts before it drops back down. Useless. “Damn it…” The word comes out quieter than I expect. I remember there’s something she wanted to say. I know it. I felt it earlier. The way she looked at me. The hesitation. The almost-words. And I— I wasn’t there. A slow exhale leaves me, heavier this time. Regret. That’s new too. I don’t like it. I don’t have time for it.

I use that to propel me forward. Those voices of yours are drowned out by the loud thumps of my beating heart, the thumps that are my own cheerleading squad telling me just to try. Just. Try. Just Try. And I know myself now just as I am knowing more about you, is that what I don't want to feel, more than you in my head and my heart, is Regret. Fear, you come and go. But Regret, well, Regret stays forever. And Regret is the most unwelcome guest because, in most cases, I can prevent Regret from coming into my home.