Regret is only the beginning Novels & Stories

I said, standing up from the sofa to look out the window where the media lights were flashing far down at the gate. "She will not succeed, Emma, because a ten-year-old high school ring means nothing compared to the life, the love, and the family that you and I have built together," Nathan asserted, stepping up right behind me to wrap his strong arms around my waist, while the dark shadow of Chloe’s scandal continued to grow outside our front doors.

He looked like a stray dog, cast out and utterly lost. “What if I said I’ll change?” He raised his head, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. “I can be better to you. I can be a good father to Yael. I’ll take him out and spend time with him. We can start over. We can be a family again.” So, he knew all along that he had been wrong. He knew the hurt he inflicted on us but justified it because of the love we once gave so freely. But now?

"Have you forgotten that you personally destroyed my mom's ashes? How dare you show up here? See that little headstone over there? That's for the three-month-old baby you abandoned because you listened to her!" My words made Marcus' face turn pale in an instant. He looked at Hannah, his eyes filled with regret. Hannah immediately went crazy. "Claire, stop talking nonsense! What does this have to do with me?" I did not look at her and only said coldly to Marcus, "Besides divorce, we have nothing left to talk about. And if I see you here again, don't blame me for being cruel." … A few days later, Marcus called me. "Claire, I agree to the divorce. I really regret not treasuring our relationship

Regret is a terrible thing. I used to believe I’d never do something so awful that I’d spend the rest of my life regretting it. But that’s not true. As much as I wish it were, it never will be. My single greatest regret is having gone for that walk. You don’t realize how good it feels to not be in pain until pain is all you feel. Yet despite the anesthetics numbing my back and the heavy burn on my chest, it’s not enough.

"Years ago, you chose another man because he could give you something I couldn't. I spent years believing I had somehow moved past that. Then you came back, and I convinced myself that maybe you regretted what you'd done." My grip tightened around the phone. "I believed you." "I'm…sorry” Deep down I still hoped I had heard a explanation Deep down my heart still wanted to belive all this was just a cruel joke That I didn’t make the fucking wrong choice That… fuck!! "Don't." I closed my eyes. "Do you know what I did because I believed you?" She said nothing. "I divorced my wife." The words tasted bitter. "I chose you." Silence, before the worst paty came

He turned to me, face close, eyes bright and clear and filled with every ounce of love and regret and devotion he carried. “Look at it. The memory is real. It happened. But it is not the end. It is not the whole story. It is only the beginning of how we found each other. It is only the wound that taught us how to heal. Do not let it be all you see. Look past it. Look forward. Look at what we built.”

As the darkness rushed in to claim me, the only thing I felt besides the agonizing pain was a cold, crystalline spark of some Thing new. Regret? No! That was for him. For me, there was only the beginning of a Very. Long. List!

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal. Boston, USA Regret is a strong emotion, so strong that it has the capacity to keep you trapped in the past forever. When a bout of regret strikes you, it cripples you from within. Like creepy insects crawling under your skin. Your own brain paralyzes you into submission and you are stuck in an era bygone, stuck in the loop of “what could have been”. It was a cool evening and the setting sun was beautifying the sky as if it was a Van Gogh masterpiece. A blood red Maybach is cruising along a deserted stretch of the highway overlooking lush green countryside. An enigmatic sight, a beautiful mechanic beast cruising

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.

he says gruffly. “It’s called expressing your emotions. Since you only seem to be familiar with anger or lust, allow me to introduce you to sadness. You’d need a heart to feel that, so I don’t expect you to understand.” “Remember, this was your deal. Too late for regrets.” I glare up at him as fiercely as I can manage. “It's never too late to regret something. That's the definition of regret—changing your mind when it's too late!” “Don't get cute with me. And don't even think about running away. I will catch you.”