His Regret, Her Rebirth

His Regret, Her Rebirth

Danruo Chami

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Seven years. That's how long I'd been trapped in a marriage where 'we' felt like a generous lie. My husband, Ethan, barely spoke to me, his eyes always on Chloe and his burgeoning career, never on me. Just weeks before the end, in a rare moment of cruelty, he looked me dead in the eye and said, 'I regret being with you. I never wanted kids with you.' Those cutting words echoed as the screech of tires and the sickening crunch of metal filled the air, and then, nothing. Thanksgiving dinner with the man who'd emotionally neglected me for years, his true affections always reserved for Chloe, his career connection. The agonizing truth: my last thought was how utterly wasted my life with him had been. But then, I jolted awake. Not in heaven, but in my grimy college dorm room, nineteen again, an ancient flip phone buzzing with a new message from Ethan: 'Hey, wanna grab a bite later?' This was it: the very beginning of the doomed timeline, the moment our lives intertwined, leading to a decade of his neglect. Only this time, I knew exactly what to do.

Introduction

Seven years. That's how long I'd been trapped in a marriage where 'we' felt like a generous lie.

My husband, Ethan, barely spoke to me, his eyes always on Chloe and his burgeoning career, never on me.

Just weeks before the end, in a rare moment of cruelty, he looked me dead in the eye and said, 'I regret being with you. I never wanted kids with you.'

Those cutting words echoed as the screech of tires and the sickening crunch of metal filled the air, and then, nothing.

Thanksgiving dinner with the man who'd emotionally neglected me for years, his true affections always reserved for Chloe, his career connection.

The agonizing truth: my last thought was how utterly wasted my life with him had been.

But then, I jolted awake. Not in heaven, but in my grimy college dorm room, nineteen again, an ancient flip phone buzzing with a new message from Ethan: 'Hey, wanna grab a bite later?'

This was it: the very beginning of the doomed timeline, the moment our lives intertwined, leading to a decade of his neglect.

Only this time, I knew exactly what to do.

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Her Scars, His Final Stand

Her Scars, His Final Stand

Romance

5.0

The rain hammered against my windowpane, a relentless drumbeat mirroring the dull throb in my abdomen-a constant reminder of the child I' d lost. My husband, Captain David Miller, was a celebrated hero on TV, his charismatic smile a stark contrast to the corroding rust of our marriage. Right there, beside him, was Chloe, my best friend, looking at him with adoration, her hand tucked in his arm. They didn' t know the real David, not like I did. The betrayal had been a slow, agonizing descent, a series of small, sharp cuts. Late nights, calls taken in hushed tones, excuses woven around Chloe' s supposed fragility. "She' s fragile, Scar," he' d say, "You' re strong. You understand." I tried to, but then he missed our anniversary for her panic attack, my doctor' s appointment for her broken-down car. Each time, a piece of my trust chipped away. The final, unforgivable act came when I lay bleeding on the floor, calling him in a choked whisper. "David, please. Something' s wrong. I' m… I' m bleeding." I heard Chloe' s tearful voice in the background, "David, don' t go. I need you." He hesitated. That cold, sharp hesitation twisted in my gut. He never came. I lost our baby alone in a sterile hospital room while he comforted her. He truly cared more about her feelings than our child. Months later, with my mother' s funeral underway, Chloe approached me again. "It' s like she had to go so my son could live," she whispered, claiming my dying mother was a necessary sacrifice for her child. My suppressed rage ignited. This woman, who had manipulated my husband, stolen my locket, and had a piece of my body donated to her, was now mocking my grief. "I want a divorce, David," I declared, the words cutting through the chaos. He tried to deny it, to plead, to promise. But his love was poison, and I was done. I walked away from the graveside, leaving behind the man who had destroyed everything. With the help of my father' s old friend, an opportunity for a new life, a new name, appeared. I didn' t look back as I dropped my wedding ring into a trash can at the airport. It made a small, tinny sound, the final note on a life I was leaving behind. As the city lights faded below, I felt a flicker of peace. My past was over. My future was waiting.

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