Regretful Reads Novels & Stories

“I didn’t know you were back in town.” “Oh, I suppose there are many things you don’t know,” I said, tilting my head. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she glanced at Michael, who hadn’t taken his eyes off me. I turned my gaze back to Michael. “You look well,” I said smoothly. It was a lie. He swallowed hard, his hands curling into fists. “Marietta…” The way he said my name—it wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hatred. It was something else. Regret.

“We may be divorced, but I haven’t forgotten the past.” From the beginning of the party until now, the shock she had given him had made him extremely agitated. If things continued this way, he might fall ill.. Kira's mood took a nosedive. She felt ashamed. “Oh, so what’s your deal now? The thing you could have had but didn’t appreciate, and now that you’ve lost it, you’re regretting it?” “Amelia?” “Mr. Thiago, you’ve missed the boat. The things I once wanted to give you, you didn’t want it. And if you want them in the future, tough luck!”

I'll love you until the day I die and every day after. Please, for the love of God, don't come back. Don't try to save me. Don't try to save us. Just live. Live well. Live happy. Live like I never existed. That's the only gift I can give you now. — Julian I read the letter three times. The words blurred and refocused. My tears spotted the paper. Then I walked downstairs to the kitchen, where Julian was making breakfast. Lily was at the table, drawing a rainbow with crayons that had escaped their box.

Regret really does its wonders, always comes at the last minute torturing you. TBC Maple Writes Don't forget to leave a comment, share and give me reviews for me to know if there are things that I should improve with and change at the same time. Have a good day. Enjoy reading.

"Are you sure? What if you regret it later?" "Regret?" The word made me laugh. Not a joyful laugh—just a hollow one. "I’ve had enough regrets. I regretted being born into that family. I regretted being born human in a world filled with werewolves. I regretted meeting Alessandro. How many more regrets can I possibly carry?"

Ellaya knelt on the cold, damp ground, her fingers trembling as they traced the jagged edges of the gravestone. The biting wind clawed at her skin, its chill settling deep into her bones. Her hair, disheveled by the relentless breeze, clung to her tear-streaked face. The night wrapped around her like a shroud, heavy and unforgiving, as the venomous words of the man she once loved echoed mercilessly in her mind. *“I regret meeting you. I regret marrying you—even if it was only on paper, even if it was for revenge.”*

"However, the man who failed you is still alive at least. Miss Vera, you still have a chance to right this regret." His tone sounded weaker than it had ever been before and his alluring eyes seemed to have lost their light, looking so depressed and lonely. His words had also seemed to reveal what his irreparable regret was. Madeline casually picked up the glass and drank the liquid in it, then chuckled lightly. ‘Jeremy Whitman, I'm afraid your regret is only because you feel ashamed for having done something bad, no? ‘You’ve never cared about me. More misconceptions will only hurt me more and make me regret more.

Robin pulled her closer to his body, wrapping his hands around her. “Regret is….something which never goes away, no matter how much you try to. It never goes away, till you can do the thing you want to, and fulfill it.” Robin’s words created a warm atmosphere around her. She could feel her soul being soothed by his warm and kind words. “Regret….is it? That’s why…..I can’t feel good no matter what.” “Though I know better than anyone, that I was too much overconfident this time. I shouldn’t have my head in the clouds when my feet are on the ground.”

When I stood before it, I felt every promise I’d ever broken bow its head, not in shame, but in relief. As if they'd been waiting to be let go so they could become something else. Even broken things become light here. Not erased. Transfigured. Mikkel has started speaking again. Not often. But when he does, the words land like seeds. He said to me once, “Regret is just memory asking for movement.” Then he handed me a mirror that reflected only the things I’d never done. I didn’t look away.

Henry remained seated on the floor long after the words on the document stopped moving before his eyes. His back rested against the wall, the polished surface cold through his shirt, but he barely felt it. The paper trembled faintly in his grasp as he read the bold heading again, as if repetition might change its meaning. “How did we get here?” he muttered under his breath, the words coming out strained and uneven. His chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath shallow. “Is it really too late? Divorced… for real?”