Regrets Crossword Clue Novels & Stories

She asked. “I’m sorry Tara but let’s just head back home. I will make it up to you some other time,” Lucas simply told her then ignited the car and moved away from Kate’s office. “Ma’am? Ma’am?” Claudia called and that was then Kate jerked back to reality. “Yes Claudia?” She answered, rubbing her forehead. “How do you feel now? I’m really sorry about your injury, I should have been more careful, ” Claudia apologized, her face dropping. Kate let out a sigh, “That’s a mistake. You don’t have to feel bad,” Kate told her, making Claudia let out a relieved sigh.

That was the question, was it not? “You sound like you have been thinking about regret,” he added. The word slipped out before I could stop it. “Maybe.” He nodded, almost like he had expected it. “Regret is heavy. But it can guide you, too. Shows you where you do not want to return.” The urge to confess clawed at me again, harder this time. I have lived this already. I have seen the ruin. I do not want it again. But fear pressed down. So instead, I gave him a crooked smile. “You talk like you have lived ten lives.”

"You can't do that. You can't act as though we're. significant to each other. Not anymore." A brief look of something crossed his eyes—maybe it was hurt. But it didn't matter much. It would never matter enough. "I know I hurt you." I gave him a scornful laugh. "That's an understatement." He glanced down for a moment, then for the right words to say. "I regret it." I stiffened. Regret. Such a simple word for something that had destroyed me. "Do you regret it?" I asked quietly but firmly. "Do you regret cheating on me? Do you regret lying? Or do you regret that our son is dead because of you?"

Clarissa exclaimed, her voice dripping with curiosity. "Jealousy!" I snapped. "Possessive jealousy... Now he can be sure he isn't the only one wishing that things didn't end up the way they did..." "Shut your mouth" Clarissa asserted, gritting her teeth. "No, don't shut up" Lumbar interjected. "What is she talking talking about? Do you regret our marriage?" "Oh! Lumbar, I'm not sure she regrets it. She just wishes she could have handled her greed a little differently...”

He mutters, " If you are sorry, then be sorry for yourself and your marriage. I am sure she asked for divorce because of your ignorance. I am warning you, Travis, the tendency of keeping the old memories and unable to erase them for the sake of your present will lead you to somewhere regretting!" Travis's eyes widen in shock. But not because of the warning but a sudden strong squeeze in his heart. He falls on knees, clenching his chest. His face turns and he gasps to suck some air in, but failed. The word regret keeps hitting his chest like drums. He is regretting, he is in pain because of the regret - But for what? Why is he regretting? Why is he hating the fact that she wants to divorce. "

And by the time he reached the final page, he finally realized just how much I had loved him—how much of my happiness had revolved around him and how much of my suffering had been caused by him. Connor curled up on the floor, holding the diary close, pressing desperate kisses against its cover as if it were my face. "Clara, I'm sorry," he choked out. "I regret it so much. Please… Please come back to me… Come back to me, will you?" I sat beside him, emotionless, watching his agony unfold. What use was regret? Could regret bring me back to life? No. I wouldn't be moved by a murderer's tears. …

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I… I just can't believe Maria is really gone just like that," Richard said, laughing bitterly. "It's all my fault. I'm the one who ruined the good life she should have had. If I had cared more about her and treated her better… If I had been honest sooner and told her everything… Then maybe, things wouldn't have ended like this." He clenched his fists. People always said you should not wait until you lose something to regret it, but he had always believed that would never happen to him and Maria.

He would never beg for his life. I sighed. “Matt, please just go away. I don’t have time to deal with all this now. I don’t want to have lunch with you, and there’s nothing to talk about or make right between us. I’m beginning to get irritated by all this.” “Meadow, there’s a lot to talk about between us, and you know it. I know I messed up seven years ago. There hasn’t been a day when I haven’t thought about you. Please, I just need another chance to make it up to you. I just want us to start afresh,” he said, walking closer to me.

I noticed his jaw tightened, and his his fists clenched at his sides. “But let me make something really clear,” I continued. “If there’s anything I’ve been to you, to this marriage, it’s being loyal. I poured my everything into us, into making sure this marriage worked, into making sure we got our happily ever after like we wanted. But it’s so unfortunate that it’s been cut short. Do I regret falling in love with you? No, I don’t. Do I regret marrying you? No, I don’t. Do I regret thinking about spending forever with you? Of course not. But I regret shrinking myself and deluding myself into thinking that I needed to give you more time, into thinking that maybe you’d come around eventually. I

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.