Too Late for Your Regret

Smash.

Caleb hurled his phone to the floor, the sharp crack snapping me back to the present. I watched as he ran a hand through his hair, chest heaving with poorly contained rage.

A moment later, he bent down, snatched up the phone, and hastily dialed his assistant.

"Find her. I don’t care if you have to dig through every corner of this city. Bring Grace back." His voice was cold, every syllable dripping with command.

He paused for a second, his jaw clenched, then shot off a furious text. I leaned over his shoulder, curious despite myself. The message was directed to my old number.

"Grace, you have one day to show yourself. Come back to me immediately, or face the consequences."

I let out a dry, bitter laugh. 'I’m right here, Caleb. Just inches away, but you can’t see me anymore.'

My phone, long forgotten, sat dead in the back of a storage closet somewhere. Even if I wanted to answer, it had probably lost its charge by now.

As the minutes ticked by without a response, I watched Caleb’s agitation grow, his pacing becoming more frantic. Finally, he snatched his coat from the couch and stormed towards the door.

I followed instinctively, my pulse racing. Was he really going to look for me?

A sudden scream from the master bedroom froze him in his tracks.

He spun around, eyes darkening, before striding back down the hall.

When he threw open the door, Emily was thrashing in her sheets, her face twisted in fear.

"Nightmare?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle, a hint of genuine concern in his eyes.

Emily, whose cheeks were wet with tears, clung to him the moment he approached. Her body shook as she sobbed into his chest.

"Caleb," she whispered, her voice trembling, "I dreamt that Grace came back... that she wanted her kidney back... and that you... that you fell in love with her again, leaving me behind."

She pulled back, her wide, tear-soaked eyes searching his face, her voice small and trembling. "You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? You wouldn’t abandon me for her?"

I watched as Caleb’s jaw tightened, a flash of something unreadable passing through his eyes. For a brief, fragile second, he hesitated.

Then, with a deep breath, he reached up, gently brushing a few damp strands of hair from her forehead.

"I wouldn’t," he said, his voice firm, though there was a slight waver I hadn’t heard before. "I love you, Emily. Not her."

I froze, a ghost with a shattered heart, the phantom ache in my chest as real as ever. Even now, even in death, he still had the power to break me.

Emily’s lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile, a flicker of triumph dancing behind her still-watery eyes. She leaned in closer, clutching his shirt.

"Did you manage to get in touch with Grace?" she asked, her voice carefully layered with concern.

Caleb’s expression darkened again. "Her phone’s off."

Emily leaned back, forcing a small, shaky laugh. "Grace has always been unpredictable. Maybe she’s just... off on one of her little adventures. You know how she is."

He didn’t reply, merely muttering something about needing fresh air before walking out, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

The door clicked shut, and Emily slowly sat up, her face morphing into something colder, more calculating.

Glaring at the door, she muttered fiercely, her voice tight and her gaze intense, "Grace, Caleb will always be mine. You can’t take him from me. Not now, not ever."

Her lips twisted into a wicked grin as she leaned back against the pillows, her earlier fear dissolving into cold satisfaction.

"And besides," she added, her voice dripping with cruel amusement, "you’re already dead. You’re no threat to me anymore."

A cold shiver crawled down my spine. She knew.

When? How long had she known about my death?

The next morning, Caleb’s phone buzzed to life, his assistant’s number flashing on the cracked screen.

"Mr. Horton, I’ve found a lead on Mrs. Horton..."

Caleb’s eyes lit up, a mixture of relief and anger flooding his face.

"I knew it," he snarled, the tension in his shoulders easing. "It’s just another one of her pathetic attempts to manipulate me."

He paused, a bitter, almost relieved breath escaping his lips. "Bring her back to me. I’ll be waiting."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line before the assistant spoke again, his voice hesitant, "Mr. Horton, there’s something you should know. We traced Mrs. Horton's steps and discovered that she... she passed away two months ago. During a failed surgery. Her body has been lying in the hospital morgue ever since."

I watched as the blood drained from Caleb’s face, his grip tightening around the phone until his knuckles turned white.

For the first time, I saw it—the crack in his armor, the unmistakable flicker of disbelief and fear.