Novel & Cerita Your Regrets Means Nothing To Me Novel

Sadness seeped into my bones, like a winter chill that hesitated to leave even in the warm weather of spring. My heart was heavy with regret as memories came crashing through. The memory of her begging me to reconsider and just postpone the party but I had stubbornly refused, disregarding her begs as flimsy complaints. That was how I killed that beautiful soul and miraculously turned out alive. I shut my eyes painfully to cloud the regret in my mind. "Look at me," I lamented aloud "My life isn't even the least bit perfect. Why did I have to survive?" an ache of regret tightened around my neck making me wish I could alter the course of my life.

Why not? Numbness spreads through my fingers and toes, but I'm proud to say that I act normal. Like my whole world isn't crashing down around my ears. Like my sweet boyfriend isn't waiting for me in the parking lot, clueless as fuck. "As in... you didn't want me to come? You regret what happened yesterday?" Will I die of this sweet ache? "I—regret? Theresa, come on." Dr Strom glares at me like I'm the one who's being confusing as hell. "Of course I don't regret it one bit. That was—I will treasure that memory, even if we don't... even if we never..."

“Are you sure this isn’t because you’re still thinking about Keegan? That maybe… You regret that divorce?” My hands freeze from brushing the rim of my glass. Regret? Of course not. To be honest, it did cross my mind more than once. But it isn’t for the same reason as he or the other might think. No, I don’t regret leaving Keegan. It just temporarily feels empty after having to let go of what I have been holding on to for so long. I’m more of a sad regret. I know better than that. So, I say honestly with firmness in my tone as I shake my head. “No, I don’t regret it, and I’ll never will.”

Why would he allow me to visit Killan? He stood up and walked toward the window, his gaze distant. The light outside was still bright. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before speaking again, "Sometimes we wish for a life without regrets. But regrets have their own beauty. I've had my share of regrets in the past. My history is riddled with them. Yet, I've never attempted to erase them completely. They're a part of me. I embrace and cherish them until they intersect with something pivotal. To truly regret is to experience life anew." "What are you trying to say?"

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.

Regret was the worst. Regret was sour and bitter, and it tasted so close to the truth I had to fight sinking into it. I want to undo this. To make it right. But I have no idea how. I don't seem to know how to open up to people without getting the door slammed in my face. I wanted to tell him everything, maybe if I'd been able to, we could have lived differently, maybe I'd be there with you now instead of here. Maybe... if I'd said, 'I'm so afraid of losing something I love that I refuse to love anything,' maybe that would have made the impossible possible. Maybe, but I couldn't do it, I had buried too much too deeply inside me. And here I am, instead of there. And some part of me has never q

"Losing your mind over that bastard was bad enough, but now you're willing to throw your life away too?" He looked at me with pure revulsion. "Elena, you disgust me. Meeting you is the greatest regret of my life." Regret? A jagged, bitter laugh tore through my sobs. Yeah, I regretted it too. I regretted not listening to Papa. I regretted ever crossing paths with him. These two pieces of filth had just crushed Mia's last hope for survival. I glanced at the clock on the wall. 9:58 pm. Two minutes left.

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.

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.

It will be my pleasure seeing her locked up. I have lost millions of dollars because of the shameless bitch. Not only money but my heart too. Gave her my heart and what has she done? Stomped on it so that I’m a broken-hearted man. I wish I never met her. Maybe this wouldn’t hurt as much as it does right now. I regret going to Lex. I regret her waiting on me. I regret inviting her to my room. Banging her. Looking for her in Paris. Being with her. Making love to her. I regret her existence entirely.