Love Gone: Regret Too Late

Brian Stanton was the definition of a textbook husband in everyone's eyes. He left work on time every single day, rain or shine, and whenever he traveled for business, his video calls arrived like clockwork to report his whereabouts. If a dinner involved even a single female colleague, he would call me first to ask for my explicit permission. Even the honey-ginger tea he prepared for me during my periods had never skipped a single month in half a decade. Yet, the better he treated me, the more it felt like I was serving a life sentence. Five years ago, his assistant had shown up at our wedding, her heavily pregnant belly protruding as she begged me to let them be together. Brian had violently dragged her away. When he finally returned, he was covered in blood, collapsing before me and trembling. "Honey, I was wrong. I've taken care of her. She won't ever show up again." He hadn't slipped up once since then. In fact, he had been so flawless and so completely beyond reproach that I thought it was finally time to forgive him. I went to his company, hoping to ask him out for lunch. But a child's voice drifted out from inside his office. "Dad, it's Mom's birthday today. Let's go home and celebrate with her." "Okay." In the next instant, my phone screen lit up with an incoming message. [Honey, I'm working late tonight. Will be home later.] Peering through the narrow crack in the door, I looked at the father and son, who looked as if they had been cast from the same mold. All at once, I flashed back to the moment when his assistant begged me, her belly so massive she was on the absolute verge of giving birth. The pregnancy test result I had been clutching so tightly in my hand slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. Chapter 1 I was such a coward. I didn't even have the guts to storm in and demand an explanation. With trembling fingers, I scooped the pregnancy test off the floor and turned to run. It wasn't until I cleared the building's main entrance that I finally remembered to breathe. Crouching beside a flower bed, I dry-heaved, but nothing came up. My palms were slick with sweat as I crumpled the medical report into a tight ball and shoved it into my bag. I wandered the streets like a lost soul, walking until darkness fell before finally heading home. The house was empty; my husband, Brian Stanton, hadn't returned. As I was changing out of my shoes, I found myself walking toward his study, drawn by some strange impulse. He usually never allowed me inside, and true to my word, I hadn't set foot in there for five years. But this time, the door was unlocked. I pushed it open. The desk was spotless, with only an old cell phone sitting on it. I plugged it into a charging cable and powered it on, finding the chat history of only one person. The top message was a voice memo from four years ago. I tapped it open, and a woman's laughter drifted through the speaker. "Reginald learned to say 'Daddy' today. Do you want to hear it?" I scrolled through the records. For an entire year, Brian had been a constant fixture in the lives of Olivia Parker and their son, Reginald Stanton, watching him grow without a single day's interruption. Daily morning and night greetings, weekly visits meticulously arranged, Reginald's first steps, his first day of preschool... Brian had saved every single milestone. I placed the phone where I had found it, sank to the floor, and let my tears fall silently. Five years ago, Olivia had shown up at our wedding, heavily pregnant. Brian had dragged her away, returning hours later covered in blood. He had collapsed before me, tightly gripping my hands. "Lena, I'm sorry I made a stupid mistake. But rest assured, I've taken care of her. She'll never appear in our lives again. Please, just give me one more chance." I had told myself that all men made those kinds of mistakes, so I gave him a chance. I never could have imagined that he hadn't settled anything at all. He had simply hidden them away. Instead of confronting him, I left the phone in its place. It was very late when Brian finally came home. He didn't smell like alcohol; instead, a faint scent of cake lingered on him. Seeing me sitting on the couch, he walked over and wrapped his arms around me. "Honey, why are you sitting here all alone?" he said softly. "It's too cold out here. Let me carry you up to the bedroom." My tone was entirely flat. "Yesterday was our anniversary. Did you remember?" He froze for a second, then quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry, honey. It completely slipped my mind. I'll order you a gift right now. Don't be mad." I pushed him away. "No need. What's past is past." Ignoring his reaction, I turned and walked upstairs. Back in the bedroom, I sent a text message to my best friend: [I want a divorce.] The message had barely been sent when the bedroom door was pushed open. Brian walked in and pulled me straight into his embrace. "Honey, don't be upset," he murmured. "I really just forgot because I've been overwhelmed with so many business dinners lately." An unfamiliar perfume drifted from his clothes. Unable to hold it in, I shoved him away, doubled over, and dry-heaved. Brian stood frozen in place, his face darkening inch by inch. He sulked, "I already told you the truth. I was out entertaining clients and forgot. What are you trying to make a scene about now? After all these years, haven't I treated you well enough?" His words struck a nerve. I looked up at him, tears pooling in my eyes, but no words came out. Chapter 2 Brian didn't look at me again. He turned on his heel and stormed out, and a few moments later, the sound of his car speeding away echoed from downstairs. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door he had slammed shut, my hands shaking. It wasn't out of fear. It was because I suddenly realized he couldn't even be bothered to invent a lie anymore. My phone buzzed with a reply from my best friend. [Good timing. I have something to tell you, too. I think Brian has another family. I was away on a business trip yesterday and saw him at an amusement park with a woman and a little boy.] Then came a video of Brian holding Olivia and Reginald in his arms, smiling radiantly. My phone buzzed again. Esther: [And that boy called him Dad.] I closed my eyes as a memory suddenly rushed back. On our anniversary three years ago, Brian had come home drunk, weeping in my arms. "I'm not a good husband," he had sobbed. My heart had shattered for him then. I assumed he was consumed by guilt and had finally learned to value me. I had held his head against my shoulder, repeating, "You're the best husband. You treat me so well." Looking back now, that day must have been Olivia's birthday. He had abandoned her on her birthday to spend the anniversary with me, and the guilt had broken him. His tears had never been shed for me; they were for another woman. I lay on the bed for a full hour, staring blankly at the ceiling. Once my tears ran dry, a cold clarity washed over me. I picked up my phone and called Esther, my voice eerily calm. "If I can get solid proof of Brian's infidelity, how much more can I get in a divorce settlement?" ... I got up early the next morning. I put the properties under my name on the market with a real estate agent and transferred my trust fund assets into a private, individual account. This money would be my leverage for the future. Right after leaving the law firm, I passed a preschool and spotted a familiar face. Olivia stood by the gates, elegantly dressed, chatting with the other mothers. "How come Reginald's dad never comes to pick him up?" one of them asked. Olivia smiled smoothly. "He's buried in work, but he video-calls Reginald every single day." Standing across the street, I smiled bitterly. I had to hand it to Brian. It must be exhausting maintaining daily video calls with his son while playing the doting husband to me, constantly running between two lives. When I got home, Brian was already there, busy in the kitchen with an apron tied around his waist. Seeing me walk in, he carried a dish out to the dining room. "Honey, you're finally home. I made sirloin steaks just for you," he enthused. I sat at the table and watched him place a piece onto my plate. I silently slid my plate away, an action that made him frown. "I've never liked sirloin steaks," I said flatly. "So, who exactly is this dish for?" The atmosphere at the table froze instantly. A flash of panic crossed his face, though he quickly forced himself to calm down. "Honey, what are you talking about?" he grumbled. "I just wanted to try something new for you. If you don't want it, I'll just take it away." He stood up and carried the dish back into the kitchen. Right then, Olivia's social media feed updated with a new grid post. The caption read: [He knows I love sirloin steaks, so he made them just for me.] The photos showed only a man's hand preparing the meal, but I recognized it instantly. It belonged to Brian. But I didn't make a scene. I simply finished my dinner, washed the dishes, and went upstairs just like any other night. The next day, after Brian left for work, my phone rang. A woman's voice came through. "Can we meet?" Our meeting didn't take place in a coffee shop; Olivia invited me straight to her house. At the door, Olivia looked me up and down, then finally said, "No need to take off your shoes. Come on in." She served coffee and sat across from me, her tone airy and unbothered. "I asked you here today because I want to ask you to let our family be together." I clenched my fists. "Let's get one thing straight. You're the homewrecker here." She was unfazed. "But the person he loves now is me, and Reginald. He bought this house for me and called it our home." My fingers tightened until my knuckles went white. I warned, "This house was purchased with marital assets belonging to Brian and me. Are you telling me this so I can sue you and take it back?" I never imagined a day would come when I would say such words to my husband's mistress. Years ago, for his sake, I had turned down a stable career my parents had arranged for me, moving all alone to this unfamiliar city. I never expected this would be how it ended. Chapter 3 Olivia stood up, letting out a mocking laugh. "Let's make a bet. The person he cares about now is me!" With that, she threw herself backward and tumbled down toward the stairs. Instinctively, I reached out to grab her. The voice of a man cut through. "Olivia!" Brian, who was supposed to be at his office, burst through the front door. He caught her at the very last second, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Olivia's face had gone deathly pale as she clutched his collar. She whimpered, "Brian, I don't know how Lena found out about this place. Don't blame her. None of this is her fault. She only did it because she loves you too much." Brian looked up, glaring intensely at me. "Lena, why are you here?" I stared back, not yielding an inch. "I should be asking you the same question. Don't you have anything you want to explain to me?" His eyes flickered with guilt. But suddenly, Olivia struggled out of his embrace and bowed to me. "Mrs. Stanton, I'm sorry!" she said bitterly. "Please don't blame Brian. It's all my fault. I couldn't bear to lose my child, so I begged him to let the baby live. If you want to blame someone, blame me!" She raised her hand and began slapping herself—a scene that made Brian's heart ache. He hauled her back up and roared at me, "Enough, Lena! All these years, I've been walking on eggshells just to accommodate you! I've already failed Olivia and our child. I won't keep hurting them just for your sake." He bent down, scooped Olivia up in his arms, and carried her out. I watched their retreating figures, utterly silent. ... At the hospital, Esther squeezed my hand. "Are you sure about this?" I closed my eyes, my hand resting gently on my lower abdomen. "I don't want my child to grow up in a broken home." I released Esther's hand and walked straight toward the operating room, never once looking back. ... At home, Brian was sitting on the sofa. Hearing me walk in, he shot to his feet, rushed over in a few quick strides, and wrapped his arms around me. "Lena, where did you go?" he said eagerly. "I've been waiting for you for so long." I wasn't in the mood to care why he was suddenly back. I simply pushed him away. "If you're here to interrogate me, just get on with it. Cut the act." Brian released his embrace, but his hands moved to grip my shoulders, his eyes alight with hope. "I saw the pregnancy test in your bag. You're pregnant! We're finally going to have our own child!" He smiled like an idiot, reaching his hand out toward my belly. I took a step back, leaving his hand hovering in mid-air. Yet, his excitement didn't wane. "You have no idea how ecstatic I am. This is the symbol of our love." "The symbol of our love?" The words felt sickeningly ironic. I quietly pulled an envelope from my bag and placed it on the coffee table. Brian froze, then opened the envelope to find a surgical consent form inside. Printed across the page were the words: [Termination of Pregnancy Procedure. Patient: Lena Stanton.] The smile vanished from his face as his skin turned completely pale. He looked up at me, his lips trembling for a long moment before he managed to squeeze out a single sentence. "You got rid of our child?" I didn't say a word. He lost control, roaring at me, "When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me? Why did you do this?" I stared back at him, my voice perfectly level. "Because I didn't want him to grow up in an unhappy home." For five years, he had been submissive in front of me. I had truly believed I could trick myself into pretending none of it had ever happened. I had swallowed my absolute disgust to play the part of a perfect, doting wife. Yet, the moment I saw Olivia and that boy, beneath all the grief, a wave of profound relief had washed over me. Finally, the charade was over. Brian collapsed, his voice trembling violently. "Lena, hit me, scream at me, please... We're still young. Even if this baby is gone, we can have another one." He wrapped his arms tightly around my legs, crying out in desperation. This scene was identical to the one five years ago, but my heart wouldn't soften again. I looked down at him. "Do you really think I'm foolish enough to trip over the same stone twice?" He shook his head frantically. "No! No, Lena, the one I love is you! They... were just an accident!" I took out the divorce agreement from my bag and laid it right in front of him. "Let's end this, Brian. I'll let your family be whole. Now, let me go."