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Regret After the Love She Chose Novel Cover

Regret After the Love She Chose

During a class reunion, the protagonist witnesses his wife, Talia Grant, cornering her former flame, Caelum Zeth. Discovering Caelum is in debt, Talia offers him a hundred thousand a month to rekindle their relationship. Her husband watches from the shadows, capturing a photo of their kiss as evidence for his lawyer. Choosing to walk away, he sends the image to Talia with a cold message, suggesting she marry the man she loves while he prepares for their inevitable divorce.
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Chapter 2

Just Another Lie

After Talia left, I quietly went through my nighttime routine.

There was no heartbreak this time—none of the soul-crushing pain I felt the last time.

I guess that's how it goes—the first time cuts deep, and the second time just stings. Someone that rotten wasn't worth a single tear.

I went straight to bed.

In the middle of the night, I woke to the sound of loud knocking at the door.

It was Waverly Joelle—Talia's best friend from college. She was half-carrying Talia, who was dead drunk.

Right in front of Waverly, I helped Talia onto the bed, brought her some chamomile tea, and tried to get her to drink a few sips.

As she watched me move around the room, Waverly suddenly spoke. "Tobias, Talia really was heartbroken over Caelum. That's why she got so emotional when she saw him today."

The mere mention of Caelum was enough to expose her completely.

"When she first started her business, she was flat broke, and Caelum dumped her to marry into a wealthy family. She never got over it. Luckily, you were there to help her through it. That's the only reason she got to where she is today."

I forced out a smile.

After walking Waverly out, I went back to the bathroom and slammed the towel I had been wringing into the washbasin. Water splashed up, soaking part of Talia's clothes. A stain spread through the white shirt she had changed into before going out.

She had showered and put on fresh clothes, yet she still came back filthy.

I turned to leave, repulsed—but she suddenly grabbed my wrist and murmured, "Caelum… Caelum… don't go. Please… give it to me… just one more time…"

The sound of that name slipping from her lips made my stomach turn. I yanked my hand free and stumbled into the bathroom to dry heave into the toilet.

It wasn't until I was completely spent that I managed to steady myself against the wall and stand up.

For a brief second, I felt sorry for the haggard man staring back at me in the mirror.

How had I managed to endure living with someone this filthy for so long?

I made up my mind right then and there—I would call a lawyer first thing in the morning and have the divorce papers drafted.

…

The next day at work, I heard Talia had hired a new executive assistant.

One of my colleagues leaned in and whispered, "That guy looks completely useless—doesn't even know how to use Excel."

"But Ms. Grant specifically asked for him. Weird, right?"

"You think she's into him or something?"

As they gossiped, Caelum's face flashed in my mind. I smiled and shook my head. "Who knows? Whatever the boss does isn't our business."

The next second, I heard Talia's voice behind me. "Tobias, come with me."

No one at the office knew I was Talia's husband. She insisted on hiding it to avoid workplace drama, so in front of everyone else, she treated me just like any other employee.

I followed her into her office.

Once the door shut, she came over and clung to my arm, speaking softly. "Tobias, can I talk to you about something?"

"What is it?"

"My college friend Caelum is looking for a job. I thought maybe he could try working here. What do you think?"

I gently pulled away and answered coolly. "Sure."

"I just happen to need a new assistant. Let him work under me for a while—I'll train him myself. You're not mad, right?"

I kept my tone even. "Why would I be mad? You're just helping out a friend."

Her gaze shifted away from mine as her fingers gripped my shoulder. "By the way… Waverly and I drank a bit too much last night. Did I cause you any trouble? You're not mad, are you?"

She was fishing, testing my reaction—and honestly, it disgusted me a little. 'You want to play the forbidden game, and you're concerned about how I think?' I mused.

Out loud, I said flatly, "I'm not mad."

"Liar. You moved into the guest room. You expect me to believe you're not mad?"

I snorted in amusement and said it plainly. "You got drunk and spent the whole night calling out someone else's name. How exactly was I supposed to sleep?"

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