When I Disappeared, He Regretted It Novels & Stories

His gaze dropped to the floor, and I noticed how his fist clenched on his lap. “I came back too late. I felt it too late. She was gone. Just like that. Wasn't even there when she breathed her last." I glanced down, trying to ignore the urge to spread my arms and draw him into my embrace. "I’m so sorry.” He looked at me and shook his head. “It’s been fifteen years.” He gave a small, light chuckle. “But it felt like yesterday, the regret, the ache. I felt pathetic." Pathetic.

His hair was darker now, longer too. But his eyes, oh, his eyes. For a moment, I couldn’t move. “It’s you,” I whispered. He smiled slightly. “It’s me.” *********** I didn’t know whether to run to him or run from him. Every emotion hit me all at once. Relief, anger, grief. “You disappeared,” I said, my voice shaking. “One day you were just… gone.” “I didn’t want to leave.” He responded. “Then why did you?”I snapped. “Why didn’t you fight? You promised, Micheal, you told me you’d always be there.”

I screamed, my voice breaking into sobs. The weight of my mistakes crashed over me like a tidal wave. For a whole week, I had ignored him, resented him, wished he would vanish. And now… now he had obeyed. He had vanished, forever. I clutched him to my chest, rocking back and forth, my tears soaking his tiny blanket. My mind raced in circles, grief and regret twisting like knives in my gut. “What am I supposed to do now?” I wailed into the night, my cries swallowed by the silence.

“I'm sorry, Clara. I didn't mean to choose Ophelia. Fuck! I swear. I didn't mean to banish you out of the pack. Back then I thought I had reasons. Fuck! But now I realize I was nothing but a coward and... I regret it." Tears slipped from my eyes before I could stop them. I turned away quickly, wiping them, pretending they weren’t there. “You didn’t have to leave me,” I said and gritted out. “You didn’t have to destroy me.” It was too late for regrets now. What's there to fix? Right now I despised how weak I was sounding. Earlier I thought my walls were high, but later I discovered only Adrian knew how to break those words. “I know,” he murmured with pain. “But I did. And I can’t take it back

"Are you regretting it?" "Regretting what?" "Making this agreement." "Not really." I shook my head lightly, feeling a bit lost. "Originally, I agreed to it to make him give up sooner. But now I'm wondering, if I had clarified things with him earlier, would it have saved him some time?" "Please, he didn’t give up even when you were married."

I turned around to leave when I heard his low voice say. "I tried to find you." I paused. Why did I pause? This wasn't a fucking telenovela scene, but why wouldn't my legs fucking move!? I wanted to walk away before I heard something that might create another dent in my resolve. "I did, even when I knew I didn't have the right to. No one knows where you disappeared to, Clara. You made sure of it. Until a random day in August, the news of Velma LTD hit town, and I saw you- on a TV looking so fulfilled, looking so happy. What should I have done? You were CEO, Clara. You had everything, you were living a good life, and I thought it would be selfish of me to put myself into your life, again, aft

he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. I paused, allowing his question to settle within me. Memories of the past flooded my mind, and I felt a twinge of sadness. "Do I regret it? Well, in some ways, yes," I admitted, my voice filled with a mixture of pain and longing. "I lost my family—the only family I had ever known, even if they weren't my blood relatives. They treated me as one of their own."

The feeling that something lost had been found, if only briefly. "I regret what came after," I said slowly. "I regret how much it hurt us. I regret the ways I used it as a shield and a weapon." I met his eyes. "But I don't regret the night." He did not interrupt. He did not look away. "Do you?" I asked. "No," he said without hesitation.

“Every bit of it. I messed up. I know I did.” The honesty in his tone disarmed me more than any excuse could have. “You didn’t just mess up,” I said, though my voice lacked the sharpness I had intended. “You disappeared.” “I know.” “You left me without a word.” “I know.” “You let me think something had happened to you.” His voice dropped. “I know, Lila.” The way he said my name—soft, weighted with regret—made something inside me twist painfully. “I didn’t think it through,” he continued. “Everything happened so fast, and instead of stopping, instead of making sure you were okay, I just… kept moving.”

“You disappeared for a week.” I saw his jaw tense. “I do care. I’ve been busy.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “And what do you plan to do when they’re born?” I asked. “Are you always going to be busy?” He lowered his gaze for a second, as if my words had hit a sensitive spot. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I disappeared after what happened that night.” My heart gave an awkward jolt. Before I could respond, I heard a voice beside me.