The Day He Regretted Me Was the Day I Disappeared

Marcus came into the bedroom carrying a large bouquet of deep red velvet roses. For a moment, he looked like something out of a romantic novel—handsome, polished, and playing the role of a remorseful husband who knew exactly what to bring.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice low and rough at the edges. He set the roses down on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for my hand. “About earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

My eyes drifted to the flowers. They were flawless. Expensive. Carefully chosen. And completely meaningless.

“It’s fine,” I replied evenly, keeping my tone steady. “I was emotional too.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh, gently rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. “Listen, Aria… you know how Cassandra is. She’s always been difficult. My parents spoiled her because of her past, and I guess I’ve carried that over too. But that doesn’t change anything between us.”

He leaned closer, searching my face as if trying to locate forgiveness there. “You’re the one I choose. Always. You’re my wife, my partner. Cassandra is just… family. My responsibility.”

Then he kissed me—soft, lingering, carefully crafted to erase the memory of how he had chosen her over me less than a day ago in front of the jeweler.

“I promise,” he murmured against my lips. “I’ll do better from now on. I’ll make this right.”

I nodded slightly and gave him a small, practiced smile. “Alright, Marcus. I believe you.”

The lie left a bitter aftertaste, but he looked relieved. He stood, smoothing out his jacket like a man reassured, and headed toward the door. “I have a board meeting. I’ll see you at dinner.”

The moment the door clicked shut, my expression collapsed.

**

That afternoon, Cassandra found me in the sunroom. She was holding fabric swatches in one hand and a tablet in the other, looking every bit like someone trying very hard to appear sincere.

“Aria,” she said gently. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

I lowered my book slightly. “What do you want, Cassandra?”

“I just wanted to apologize again,” she said as she settled across from me on the sofa. “I really crossed the line earlier. I shouldn’t have interfered with your shopping. I know you’ve been through a lot.”

She inhaled slowly, widening her eyes in a way that looked carefully rehearsed. “To make up for it, I’d like to help with your anniversary celebration in two days. Since you’re still recovering, I can handle the decorations. I want it to be perfect for you and Marcus. Think of it as a gesture of goodwill.”

I studied her quietly. The sheer nerve of it almost impressed me. She wanted to design a celebration for a marriage she was actively trying to tear apart.

“That’s very considerate of you,” I said calmly. “Alright. Do whatever you think is best.”

**

An hour later, a courier arrived at the service entrance and handed me a thick sealed envelope before leaving without a word. I brought it upstairs, locked the door behind me, and sat on the edge of the bed.

My hands trembled slightly as I opened it.

Inside were the finalized divorce papers—exactly as I had instructed Mr. Pierce. The transfer of assets to Nina had been completed. The trust was dissolved. The Grant fortune was no longer under Caldwell control.

But there was something else.

A small flash drive slipped out as I unfolded the documents. I stared at it for a moment before plugging it into my laptop. My cursor hovered before I finally clicked the first file.

Footage appeared on the screen—grainy, distant, but unmistakable. Marcus and Cassandra inside a hotel room in Paris during what he had called a “business trip.” They were arguing at first. Then suddenly kissing. Not restrained, not accidental—intense, familiar, practiced. Moments later, Cassandra laughed as she pushed him onto the bed.

“Aria?”

I shut the laptop so fast it almost slammed.

Nina was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with confusion. She had slipped in so quietly I hadn’t even noticed her.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, stepping closer. “Why are you crying?”

My fingers touched my cheek. Only then did I realize I was.

“Nina,” I said softly, my voice shaking. “Come here.”

She climbed onto the bed beside me. I took a steady breath, opened the laptop again, and turned it slightly toward her. “I need you to see this. And I need you to understand why we can’t stay here.”

“But…” Nina whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s your husband. And she’s his sister. That’s… that’s not normal.”

“It isn’t,” I said gently. “And it goes beyond that. The kidnapping—Nina, they arranged it. Marcus paid them off to protect her. You were used to control me.”

“I don’t want to stay here,” she cried, burying her face against my shoulder. “They’re horrible people.”

“We’re leaving,” I promised, brushing her hair back. “Everything is already prepared. The papers are signed. The money is secure. It’s just us now.”

“Okay…” she sobbed. “Let’s go. Please.”

Then the doorknob turned.

I went still.

“Go where, exactly?” Marcus’s voice came, calm but edged with something sharp underneath. He stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him. “Aria. Where were you planning to go?”

“Oh,” I let out a small, shaky laugh, forcing my body to relax. “You scared us. We were just talking. Nina’s been overwhelmed lately—she can’t sleep properly. She keeps thinking about what happened. It’s affecting her.”

I looked up at him, letting my eyes soften as if pleading. “I suggested maybe a short trip. For the anniversary. A change of scenery might help her recover.”

He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders loosening. A faint, uneasy laugh escaped him. “Right… a trip. That actually sounds like a good idea, honey.”

He walked over and sat beside me, taking my hand again like nothing had happened. “You really scared me for a second there. The way you said ‘leaving’… I thought you meant something else.”

I forced a small, amused smile. “Leaving you?” I tilted my head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Marcus. I wouldn’t do that.”

A pause.

“Unless you were cheating on me.”

I held his gaze as his expression shifted almost imperceptibly.

“Which you’re not… right?”

“Of course not,” he said smoothly.

But that night, I saw the truth anyway.

Marcus and Cassandra were together again, tangled in the sheets like there had never been a promise made to me at all—like my existence didn’t interrupt their world for even a second.

Cassandra wanted an anniversary celebration.

Then I would give them one. One they would never survive remembering.