Chapter 16
“I regret it, Victoria. I really do,” his voice quivered, thick with emotion.
“If I hadn’t let myself get tangled up with Ava… we could have been married by now. Maybe even had kids, don’t you think?”
He choked back another sob, his words tumbling over one another, raw and
unfiltered. “Victoria, I was wrong. I hurt you. I hurt us.”
As he wept, he wasn’t the man I once knew. His face–once youthful and full of life–was now etched with exhaustion, a shell of the man he had been. Regret had drained him.
Eight years of love and pain had passed, and I had built a wall around my heart that was
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impenetrable. I no longer cared enough to be angry, to lash out.
I met his gaze with cold indifference, my voice steady. “It’s over. There’s nothing to fix.”
His desperation grew, his voice cracking as he pleaded, “But I’m still waiting for you, Victoria. I swear, I won’t marry anyone else. Only you. Please.”
I stared at him, incredulous. His eyes were filled with such raw desperation, as though he thought his years of waiting would somehow move me. That I might fall into his arms and forgive him.
I could almost see the hope in his eyes, expecting me to be swayed, to dissolve in a flood of emotions.
“Victoria, could you…?”
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I didn’t hesitate. I simply spoke, my voice softer but resolute. “I should have told you earlier, but I got married three years ago.”
The light in his eyes faded in an instant.
The man I married wasn’t a stranger or a distant acquaintance. He was someone the country had chosen for me after hearing of my academic achievements. Over time, we grew close, and eventually, we became partners–more than partners, really. He was my equal. He was a researcher, just like me. And as if fate had timed it perfectly, he walked into the room with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
William’s expression crumpled as soon as he saw him.
My husband was younger than me–ten
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Points:
years younger, to be precise–full of life and vigor, his presence unmistakable.
I smiled gently, the words rolling off my tongue with ease now. “I guess I understand. Everyone seems to prefer someone younger.”
My husband walked toward me, offering the bouquet with a smile, then turned to look at William with a certain disdain in his eyes.
“He’s so old, he chuckled, not even trying to hide his amusement.
William’s face shattered in that moment. The mask of hope fell away, replaced by confusion, hurt, and disbelief.
For a long time, he stood there, speechless, as if every word had struck him like a blow. His eyes were hollow, his heart empty.
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Tears, once again, began to fall.
For ten years, he had believed that the years he spent pining for me would bring him back into my arms. That somehow, the history we shared would be enough to bridge the gap.
But what he couldn’t understand–what he would never truly comprehend–was that I had moved on. I had built a new life. I had a new partner who, for all his youthful exuberance, loved me more deeply than William ever could.
And now, it was no longer his place to be a part of my life.
In that moment, as I looked at William, I saw something in his eyes–something that had once been mine. It was the same longing, the same lost love he had once held for me. But it wasn’t for me anymore; it was for the
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life we could have had, the life he had let slip through his fingers.
The realization hit him like a wave. He understood, in that instant, that it should have been him standing by my side, not the man who now held my heart.
Regret swallowed him whole. He even hesitated with the plain circle ring I had worn for so long, a symbol of a love that had withered. When it was time for him to leave, he knew he would never see me again, not in this life, at least. With a trembling hand, he pulled out the ring and turned it into a necklace, placing it in my hands. Now, the two rings–his and mine–were bound together, forever intertwined.
“Wish you happiness,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, breaking the silence between
Us.
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My gaze was icy, unwavering as it met his.
He rushed to explain himself, his voice a desperate plea. “I don’t mean anything by it, Victoria. I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy” I replied, the words as cold and distant as I felt inside.
With a gentle nudge from my husband, I took the necklace from William’s hands, letting the moment slip by, unacknowledged.
For just a second, a fleeting second, I thought back to those earlier years.
We had nothing then, yet we were rich in love. Beneath the moonlight, our laughter echoed in the night as we held hands, our hearts in sync. We embraced, kissed, and for a brief moment, time itself seemed to freeze.
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Later, he bought me a grander diamond, planned a proposal more elaborate than the last–but it could never replicate what we had shared. Those feelings were irreplaceable, not something that could be bought or recreated.
I didn’t need his late apologies. They meant nothing to me now.
When we reached the door to the conference room, I slipped the necklace into the trash can, the weight of the past sinking with it.
As I turned to leave, I saw William standing there, broken and alone. He looked as though the wind could sweep him away, leaving nothing but emptiness in his place.
But I didn’t linger. I walked away, leaving him behind in that moment.
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In the corner of my vision, I thought I saw the twenty–year–old version of him, chasing me down with the same hopeful look in his eyes. But my reality was different now.
My husband, full of youthful energy, stepped beside me. He gently took my hand, his voice filled with warmth.
“Victoria,” he said, his words wrapped in tenderness, “I love you so much.”
And with that, the past finally became the past, and the future was ours.
(The End)
