Too Late For His Empty Regret

rey

d dressed me in was a cruel joke. It was a slinky, form-fitting dress, the kind I used to wear before pregnancy. Now,

skin itch and burn. It was a constant, agonizing reminder of h

"Is that Audrey Fox? Goodness, she's let herself go." "Look at her ne

ure, her glowing perfection. They talked about Ethan, the "suffering" husband, the one who deserved be

rm, clamped around my arm. "Don't you dare," he hissed, his grip bruising. "You will stand here, Audrey.

tament to his supposed magnanimity. I was the backdrop, the

formidable player in the company. The crowd applauded wildly. Then, he presented her with a diamond necklace, a delicate piece of ar

iumphs, all our successes. She is not just my colleague, but my partner in life, in amb

, his voice flat, "she runs the household. Kendall runs the

ne saw. I was a cuckolded wife, publicly humiliated, and discarded. My face felt bloodless, my hands clen

ating air, the judgmental eyes. The fever, forgotten for a moment in the torrent of humiliation, surged back. My body ached

han's voice. Gentle. Concerned. He was there. He was wiping my fore

comfort I so desperately craved. Just for a second, I ima

ky and breathy, broke the

indifference. "Good. She won't know we're here." The rustling of clothes. A soft moan. Th

them! But my limbs were heavy, unresponsive. My body was trapped in

ource of safety, now felt invasive, disgusting. He carried me, my limp body a burden. "Re

ct. My stomach churned. I pushed against his chest, a guttural sound escaping my lips. "No,

ad been light and cheerful,