The Triplet Final Regret Novels & Stories

As if betrayal could be undone with apologies and gifts. I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care if he still loved me, or thought he did. It was too late for that. His regret meant nothing now. “It’s not easy without you in my life, Aria,” he continued, his tone softer, almost pleading. “I swear I regret everything. Please… give me another chance. Let me prove myself to you.” A smirk tugged at my lips, cold and detached. “It’s too late. I really need you to stop this...” I say coldly, attaching the phone to my ear.

“They mean it. You don’t get in unless the Gate’s fed.” “Fed what, exactly?” one of the teenagers whispered, though we all knew. “Regrets,” the older woman said. “The deep ones.” Jax grimaced. “Of course. Emotional damage DLC.” I stared at the text. “One regret… per person?” I asked. “Or do we—do we share? Is this like group therapy where only one person has to cry for everyone to go home early?” As if in answer, fresh script bled into existence below the first line, letters forming in a slow, deliberate scrawl:

"It's okay, Ellison. We all understand you're worried about Becky. She's had quite a scare, and it's only right that you'd rush back to be with her instead of getting married—" "That's not it." Ellison cut her off, and after a long pause, where his throat seemed to struggle with the words, he finally spoke. His voice was hoarse and shaky. "I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert. "Lily... she's gone..." A hush fell over the whole living room. I did not know how much time had passed before I heard a loud crash. Mom's glass had hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces. "What did you say...?"

I turn, my hands sliding over her trembling form as I gently lay her on the seat of my SUV. “I’m sorry… so sorry,” I murmur, my voice rough with regret, my fingers brushing her hair. Her weight against me, her pulse still racing, makes it impossible to let go. I start the engine, the tires crunching over gravel, and drive back toward the estate. My heart is heavy with regret, but my need is heavier. I cannot make amends; what’s done is done. The villain has claimed the girl, and there is nothing anyone can do. ____________

"Director Laurette, I didn't mean to say that you were my substitute. I just feel that fate can be cruel. Back in Royal Crest University, you and Tyson were a perfect couple that everyone admired. But in the end, you married Bryce." Irene's words were like a sharp blade, piercing my heart. Ignoring my pale face, Irene continued, "Because of that reckless night between you and Bryce, all four of us have been living in pain. Laurette, do you regret not fighting back with all your might back then?" My lips trembled violently. "I did fight back." "Then you definitely didn't try your best," Irene's gaze shot like an arrow. "Or maybe, when he called you 'Maya,' you gave up struggling."

The distance remained exact. The thin answering pressures continued through the nights the soft regret moved. They arrived when they arrived. Stefan registered them without mistaking any brief variation for a cooling of the soft pain. The dens registered them without adjusting schedules. The permanent mark sent them at its own rate. The soft and painful regret burned underneath the thin answers the same way it burned underneath the formal duty and the sealed wing—private, recurrent, exact, and still unable to rearrange pure radiance back into the woman the claim had spent everything to keep.

“So it stops being confused. Right now, it doesn’t know who you choose. Me or Tyler.” I wrapped my arms around myself. The wind off the water was freezing. “You must be out of your mind. You're the one who's trying to confuse the bond. You know it knows I belong to Tyler. I regret that night more than anything. I regret letting you close enough. I regret every time I told myself it didn’t matter. I regret getting in your car the other night and handing you a fresh opening to my life. But regret doesn’t mean I want you to finish what you started. I still want Tyler. I don’t want you.”

After she was intimate with her husband, Derrick Gladwin, Celine Clarkson headed to the bathroom to clean up. Then the closet door swung open. Jenny Dlay—Celine's best friend—popped out, laughing like crazy. "Wow, Cece. You act all innocent, but you still make that face when things get good? I'm dead." Jenny rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, mocking the way Celine had bitten her lip and trembled. Celine went pale and froze. Jenny didn't care. She strutted over, went up on her toes, and hooked an arm around Derrick's neck, her nails brushing through his Adam's apple. "Okay, Ricky. Didn't know you had that in you. You seriously wore her out." She smirked. "Almost feel bad for he

As we head back to the kingdom, I wonder why it is now that the clone dies, and it is on the same day that the triplets regain their minds. What game are you playing, Jared?

“If she is a virgin would you still lock her up in that cell because of some ghost? Would you even want her or would you still pine after someone who was alive for only a few hours before she was killed?” My heart raced and my stomach twisted painfully. Ian shook his head again and stood up. “You two are my best friends and I would go to hell and back for you,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I am your Beta and I will always be by your side and support you.” He clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at us. “But you are making a huge mistake,” he continued. “You will regret this.” He turned around and stormed out of our office before Aiden and I could respond.