Regrets Novel Novels & Stories

She listened without a single expression, then simply said, "It's all in the past now." Yes, it was in the past, and it could never be changed. I had destroyed everything myself. I returned home and divorced Samantha. She took half of everything I owned, revealing her true nature. She told me she had always been after my money and that she was taking the child with her. I completely fell apart and cried right there. I regretted it so much. I regretted not daring to love Angela openly. Now I had lost her for good. I went bungee jumping to try to escape my pain, but the rope malfunctioned, and I fell hard.

I let the water cascade down my back, my palms pressed on either side of the wall, my mind reeling. In a couple of weeks, I'd be married again. How had things gone so wrong? No! I shook my head. I was not going to think about this today. I was going to go to work, get things done and forget about the past and move on. No more fucking pity party. I climbed out of the bathroom, dried myself with my towel and proceeded to dress up for work. I came out of my room and made my way downstairs. I passed the dinning hall straight to the front door and as I was about to open the front door, I heard the sound of my mother's voice.cslling my name and I turned around.

OV No one knows how but everyone has things that they regret. Some regret not treasuring what they had, but they realize too late that what they had was precious. Some regret unsaid thoughts and words when they had the opportunity to say them. Others regret not being courageous enough to take risks. Hamdan was no exception. He had a lot of regrets. He regretted being selfish, he regretted not trusting his beloved wife, he regretted driving her away yet his biggest regret was not being there for his wife. The last call she made to him was like a wakeup call to his selfish self.

His life—once perfectly structured and enviable—suddenly felt meaningless. The mansion that once symbolized prestige now felt like a prison. Every corner echoed with ghosts—his mother’s absence, his father’s deceit, and Zara’s broken trust. For the first time in years, Regan Kareem felt something he never thought he would—regret. He picked up his phone again, opened Zara’s chat, and typed: “I’ll fix this. Somehow.” But again, his thumb hovered over the send button, and he sighed. He locked the phone and placed it face-down on the table. The screen went dark—just like the space growing inside him.

I stumbled back, my hand hitting the doorframe. "I never loved you. I never wanted you. I never regretted losing you." He stepped toward me, his voice cold and deliberate. "The only thing I regretted was not getting what I wanted sooner. You were nothing but a stepping stone, Ymir. A tool. And now that you've outlived your usefulness, I have no more use for you." I stared at him. The man I had loved. The man I had grieved. The man who had knelt in the garden and begged for forgiveness.

“Do you regret it? Do you regret becoming Leonard Hugues, a member of the Marseille crime syndicate? Do you regret meeting her?” Leonard let out a short sigh. “I don’t regret it. Regret is wishing the past could change, and I hate dwelling on the past. Instead of regretting what’s happened, I’d rather embrace it without being haunted by it.” Straightening his already neat clothes, Leonard turned and began walking away. After five steps, he paused, looking back to say, “Besides, Monsieur Gabriel... I chose to live as trash. I chose to kill the good child I once was and grow into someone far from good. I... won’t regret it.”

I couldn't help but wonder how my life had unraveled so quickly, how I had gone from a place of hope and love to one of despair and isolation. Regret washed over me like a tidal wave, drowning me in a sea of what-ifs and could-have-been. If only I had been more cautious, more discerning. If only I had seen through Reuben's facade sooner. But now, it was too late, and I was left to face the consequences of my naivety.

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 said curtly, staring into his quivering eyes. “What?” He spilled out of shock. “I'm done with you. You are the lowest of a man and the thing I regret most was lying with you on bed. You are a sex rag and a wicked man. I regret meeting you!” I yelled in anger, letting my emotions get the best of me and when I was done, I closed the door at his face. I wouldn't be captivated or intoxicated by his eyes or words. I had to stay strong and delete his lies.

Trading a love so pure for a web of lies. The depth of my mistake washed over me. I felt a profound, unshakable regret for trusting Josie. For leaving Noah. “My Noah… What have I done?” I needed answers. I needed to make things right. I tried calling Raymond, but he rejected my calls repeatedly. Frustration and guilt gnawed at me. I had to see Noah, to beg for her forgiveness. I stormed out of the hospital. The urgency of my mission propelled me forward. The drive to Raymond's villa felt like an eternity.