When Regret Comes Knocking, It's Too Late

Two days later, there was a post on Brady's Instagram.

That was a photo of Brady sitting on the balcony with Alyssa.

It also came with a paragraph of text. [She has been depressed since the divorce, and I'm really worried that she might do something drastic.]

This post was only visible to me.

After seeing this post, I immediately turned off my phone and focused on my work, trying to finish the project at hand as soon as possible.

Not long after, the project I was working on was a complete success, earning the company a large sum of money.

This was not the first time I had made money for the company.

My boss was very satisfied with me and promoted me to vice president.

Apart from my boss, the company had a total of two vice presidents before, and I was now the third one.

My colleagues congratulated me.

In the past, I would avoid socializing if I could, and after work, I would hurry home, thinking that Brady must be tired from work. As his wife, I should prepare delicious meals for him and take care of him in every possible way, letting him enjoy a few comforts of home.

But this time, I hosted a grand banquet.

I invited almost all my colleagues from the company.

After the meal, I went to a bar and sang with a few close colleagues from the company.

It was so much fun.

...

I staggered back home at three o'clock in the morning.

As a modern girl, I once boldly confessed my love to Brady, but I was quite conservative.

I had never come home this late before.

This was the first time!

Because I drank a lot, I accidentally fell down and knocked over something.

Glass shards cut my hands and there was blood everywhere.

Brady was awakened by the noise.

He walked out of the bedroom and turned on the light.

Seeing the scene, he didn't immediately ask about my injuries but pushed me away with an angry look on his face.

Only then did I realize that I had accidentally killed a goldfish.

"You killed it? How could you be so cruel?"

Brady's eyes were ablaze with anger as he yelled at me.

My palms were full of glass shards and hurt a lot. I said impatiently, "It's just a small goldfish. How much is it worth?"

"It's not about the money. You have no idea what it means to me!"

Brady held the dead goldfish, feeling extremely heartbroken.

I didn't bother with him. Enduring the pain in my palms, I said, "I drank alcohol and can't drive. Can you drive me to the hospital?"

Brady looked annoyed and said, "You're such a grown-up. Is it necessary to make such a fuss over a small injury?"

I was stunned for a moment.

Then I got up from the ground and stumbled my way downstairs.

In the cool breeze, I waited for a taxi, and only then did I realize that a living person couldn't even compare to a little goldfish.