Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back Novels & Stories

I have a lot of regrets in life. But I guess, not coming home quite often for a visit is the thing that I regret the most. I could’ve have hang out with Grandpa more often. But it’s too late now. Grandpa is gone. It replays on my mind repeatedly. He is gone. I wish I can change it and think that this is just a bad dream. I stare into the calm sea as the boat approaches the port. I’ve returned again in Sequim but this time with a heavy heart.

At least, Freya hadn't turned her back on him and that was the most important thing. However, he couldn't shake off the fact that he had already lost so much and was bound to lose more if he pushed further. His heart ached, and he felt a wave of despair wash over him as he thought of that. He poured another drink, the whiskey glugging into the glass. The sound echoed through the silence, a rhythm which matched his wandering thoughts. He leaned on the couch, his glassy eyes fixed on the whiskey bottle and empty glasses which littered the coffee table. He was lost in a sea of self-doubt and regret, the once-confident CEO now a shadow of his former self.

Regret letting him in. Regret letting him touch me. Regret letting him leave this piece of himself behind on my machine, in front of Cain, who stands there listening, silent and still, as Mark pleads for a second chance he’s never going to get. The message ends with a soft click, leaving behind a silence that roars in my ears.

Glancing at the 27 missed calls I had made on my phone screen, I suddenly realized that whether or not he came did not seem so important anymore. The glimmer of hope that the month-long silent treatment was about to end had long been worn away by these 27 phone calls. Even if Jules came right now, I had already given up on making up. I took a few deep breaths, composed myself, and opened my bag, ready to go in alone.

What was wrong with me? Why did his words still reach places I swore were dead? Did I care that he regretted it? Did I want him to? I had come too far. I couldn’t back out now. Not even while he knelt there, broken. Not even when part of me wanted to kneel with him to get him back on his feet. “You’ve not regretted it enough.” I replied, my voice barely cold. “It’s until you beg for life to take you back to where it was given to you.”

When will the regrets end? To be continued...t

Regret wouldn’t erase what he’d done. Regret wouldn’t give me back the years they had stolen from me. I pressed my forehead briefly against the cool glass, trying to breathe past the tightness in my chest. I had stood there tonight—alive, unbroken—and watched him unravel without lifting a single finger. And it still wasn’t enough. The scotch still burned in the back of my throat. The memories burned deeper. I reached into my purse, fingers closing around the flash drive. It was small. Cold. But it was power.

He looked at me like he was searching for something-a crack, a weakness, a reason to believe I didn’t mean it. “I regret every moment with you,” I said. My voice was calm, but every word cut deep. “Every single one. I regret trying. I regret loving you. I regret begging. I regret offering you everything and getting nothing back. I regret wasting three years of my life on someone who never saw me as anything more than a business transaction.” My voice didn’t shake. “I regret all of it, you asshole.” Damon’s face changed. His mouth twitched, his eyes flickered. For a second, I thought I saw pain — real pain — but it didn’t matter anymore.

“You think you know what you want, Bryan, but you’ll regret ever saying this to me.” I stood, my chest rising and falling like I had been holding my breath for years and only now dared to exhale. I turned my back on her, my voice steady but ragged at the edges. “The only thing I regret is not seeing you for what you are sooner.” I couldn’t look at her anymore. Not when grief was still clawing through me, not when the memory of my mother’s broken body was still carved into the back of my eyes. My chest was raw, my soul scraped bare, but through it all, cutting through the chaos I had a clarity.