Awash in Regret

Three years into our marriage, I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. All I wanted was one final, proper meal with Julian.

Instead, he abandoned me at the restaurant, left me to drown in the pouring rain, and served me divorce papers, all to be with Chloe, the woman who haunted his heart.

He called me greedy, accused me of scheming, and forced me to leave with nothing.

I simply smiled, signed the papers, wished them happiness, and then vanished from his world.

After I left, he went completely insane.

He smashed open my art studio, a place I never let him enter, only to find the walls covered with his portraits.

He found the hidden transfer records of how I’d secretly filled the financial gaps when his company faced ruin.

And tucked away in a corner he never bothered to look, there was a crumpled medical report.

Only then did he realize I wasn’t after his money; I was just clinging to the last shred of love left in my dying life.

Later, all of Manhattan saw the once arrogant and untouchable Julian Sterling kneeling at my tombstone, reduced to a sobbing wreck as he begged for a final glance.

The wind might have heard his pleas, but I was long gone.