Your Regrets Means Nothing To Me Novel Novels & Stories

Adrian gets up and starts leaving. He can feel the weight of her words echoing in his mind. The bitterness in her voice cuts deep. “People forget after committing mistakes, but they definitely get the fruits of their deeds; I see only regrets in your fate.” she screamed. He knows she's right. As Adrian walks away, he can't shake off the feeling of guilt and regret that now consumes him. He knows he has hurt her deeply, and the consequences of his actions are now staring him in the face. The harsh reality of his mistakes hits him like a ton of bricks, and he realizes that he may never be able to make things right again. The words of the woman he once loved haunt him as he walks away, knowing

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

There was no need for me to keep holding onto the past. Besides, Andrew and Sally had been genuinely kind to me. So, I wouldn't hold a grudge out of respect for them. As for Dylan's attempt at murdering me, I was still scared. So, I pleaded with the police to send me back home. Just as we reached the door, Dylan suddenly rushed over and knelt in front of me. "Fiona, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have doubted you. Please don't break up with me." Seeing the remorse on Dylan's face, I bit my lip and whispered, "Dylan, we'll talk about our relationship later. You should focus on handling your parents' affairs first."

There was no turning back now. I stood there, watching her for a moment, searching for something—anything—that would make me stay. But the words refused to come. Instead, I turned and walked away, leaving behind the only woman I had ever loved. As I drove back to the mansion, I waited for a sense of relief. But it never came. The weight in my chest grew heavier with every passing mile, a suffocating reminder of what I was losing. No, this wasn’t a relief. It was a regret. Pure, unfiltered regret.

“Jensen… sorry…” Her eyes were red as she raised her hand and slapped herself. “I am sorry… I regretted it for the past three years… please forgive me. Please look at me one more time…” I rolled down the window halfway and looked at her with a cold expression. “Chelsea, do you think it is appropriate to say this in front of my wife? Do not come near me and disgust me again. I do not want to see you. Do not insult the word regret. You do not deserve it.”

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.

Henry shouted, "No! Yelena, I will never divorce you! And the child—why did you never tell me about it?" His voice trembled as he spoke. He was probably regretting it, but what was the use of regret? We could never go back. No matter how hard he tried, it was over. "I will never agree to a divorce!" Henry insisted. "Don't joke with me. This isn't funny at all." So, he thought I was joking.

When Georgina saw me, she hurriedly got up from the couch and walked toward me, her eyes already turning red. "You little rascal. You still remembered you have a home here! You’ve been gone all these years without even coming back to see me." I felt somewhat guilty about my earlier thoughts and said with a choked voice, "Georgina..." Linda walked over to Georgina's side, gently patting her back. "The doctor said you can't get too emotional. How did you forget this so quickly?"

Then stopped. Folded the paper. Unfolded it. Reread the words. They felt wrong. Too little. Too late. He tore the page neatly in half and dropped it into the bin. That became a pattern. Letters started and destroyed. Apologies formed and abandoned. Promises he no longer had the right to make. In the silence of his cell, James began to understand something that had eluded him for years: regret is not loud. It does not scream. It sits with you. Patient. Unforgiving.

I don’t want him to walk off into the night with a head full of regrets, any more than I want to erase what happened here. I have no regrets. Not a single one. I don’t regret taking Anna Josephine and filling her full of my cum, and I don’t regret sharing her with Kennedy, either. One of us was going to lose out big time, I didn’t want it to be him, and I sure as fuck didn’t want it to be me. “I’m not going to run off,” he tells her. “I’d never run off from you. I’m the one who came running after you, remember?”