When Regret Came, I Was Already Gone

Tamara's POV

I’d heard those same words from Louie more times than I could count.

In the past, I would’ve argued with him, yelling, crying, refusing to back down.

But now? I felt numb. I just nodded mechanically, letting him think I understood, then reached for a face mask and started applying it like it was just any other night.

Louie hadn’t expected me to react so calmly. Something about my silence seemed to unsettle him.

He leaned in, trying to explain, “Tamara, I’ve known Lindsay longer than I’ve known you. But I really only see her as a sister.”

Then he added, like it should settle everything, “Besides, I’m marrying you. What more do you want?”

I stared at him, stunned, like I was seeing him clearly for the first time.

That tone, that arrogance, as if marrying me was some sort of favor he was granting.

A storm of emotions churned inside me as I looked at the man I had once loved.

Then I heard myself speak, calm and steady. “Let’s not get married. Let’s just break up.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt lighter, freer.

“What did you just say?” Louie froze, eyes wide with disbelief. He looked like he couldn’t believe I was the one saying it.

In the six years we’d been together, every fight had followed the same pattern—him throwing things, yelling, storming off, and me trying to fix everything with apologies.

But no matter how bad things got, we’d never said the word breakup.

Until now.

“Tamara, are you seriously doing this right now?” he snapped. “We’re about to get married. You’re pregnant. Can’t you just grow up and stop acting like a child?”

His irritation was obvious. He thought I was bluffing, just throwing a tantrum like always. He was so sure I’d never really leave.

“I’m not—” I began, but didn’t get the chance to finish as his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and answered immediately.

“Louie, the wind is so strong up here... and I just feel so lost,” came Lindsay’s soft, breathy voice through the speaker.

I was sitting right beside him, so I heard every word.

He stood up as he spoke into the phone, already grabbing his coat. “Lindsay, don’t cry. Just tell me where you are. I’m coming to you now.”

He walked to the door, then turned to me and said coldly, “I don’t have the energy to deal with your drama every day. Think about what you want—marriage or breakup.”

And just like that, he slammed the door behind him.

I stood there, staring at the closed door, feeling like the punchline of some cruel joke.

He’d never once comforted me, his girlfriend.

But for another woman’s bad mood, he was willing to rush to her side in the middle of the night.

That night, Louie didn’t come home at all.

The next morning, I started packing.

I left behind only the essentials. Everything else that reminded me of him, I tossed.

Matching couple outfits, our necklaces, our Polaroid camera, the plush toys we won together at the mall, anything that held a memory of Louie went into a giant garbage bag.

And as I packed, I realized something painful.

Most of the things I owned were connected to him.

By the time I was done, I’d filled four huge sacks with things to throw away.

And the things I planned to take with me? Just two storage bins.

It took me five full days to clear out the apartment.

But I was determined. I didn’t want a single thing linked to him in my life anymore.

Not in my home. Not in my heart.

He didn’t come back once during those five days.

No texts. No calls. Nothing.

But I knew where he was, thanks to Lindsay’s constant TikTok updates.

She posted everything—Louie taking her to an amusement park, peeling shrimp for her at dinner, playing cutesy kissing games.

Every time she posted something new, the algorithm shoved it in my face, no matter how many times I hit “Not Interested.”