Her Regret Came Too Late Chapter 11

Her Regret Came Too Late Chapter 11

I stood at my window for a long time, looking at that photograph.

I thought about our wedding day. The way she smiled during her vows. The way I believed every word she

said.

And I thought about the last time I saw her-on her knees on the sidewalk, blood running down her face, begging me to let her stay.

I really loved her once, with everything I had.

But I felt nothing for her anymore. Her regrets came too late.

A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Mr. Clark!” Callie’s bright voice rang out. “Auntie says we’re going to the beach for a picnic! Are you coming?”

I put my phone in my pocket and opened the door.

Callie grabbed my hand with her small fingers and held Ariel’s hand with the other. And the three of us walked down the old street toward the ocean.

The sun was warm on my face. The sky was clear.

“Mr. Clark,” Callie said, swinging our joined hands back and forth, “do you think I can be an architect when I grow up?”

“I think you can be anything you want to be.”

“Even a princess?”

“Even a princess. But princesses don’t get to build bridges. Architects do.”

She thought about this for a moment. “Then I’ll be an architect princess.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” I said.

Ariel laughed. It was a quiet sound, soft and warm.

We reached the beach. The ocean stretched out in front of us-blue and endless, the waves rolling in one

after another, steady and patient.

spread the blanket on the sand. And I sat there, watching the waves, and felt something I hadn’t felt in a y long time.

Peace.

I thought about the night I had jumped off Dragon’s Peak.

The cold water. The darkness.

Back then, I had thought there was nothing left for me. No reason to keep going. No reason to hope.

I had been so sure that I would never smile again.

But I was wrong.

“Thank you for your help,” I said. “You didn’t have to do that. You put yourself in danger.”

Ariel turned to look at me. Her face was pale, but her eyes were calm.

“He was going to hurt you,” she said simply. “Or hurt the children. I couldn’t just stand there and watch.”

I wanted to say more. But the words wouldn’t come.

So I just nodded and started cleaning up the mess.

The next afternoon, Victoria came.

I was teaching the children how to make paper greeting cards-something simple, something that didn’t require sharp tools. After what had happened with Dillan, I didn’t want any of them holding knives for a few days.

The door opened. I didn’t look up.

“Just a minute,” I said, cutting a piece of colored paper. “Class ends in ten minutes. Parents can wait outside.”

No one answered.

I looked up. The scissors almost slipped out of my hand.

Victoria stood in the doorway.

She looked nothing like the woman I had married. That woman had been polished, perfect, always put together. Her hair had always been smooth. Her makeup had always been flawless. Her clothes had always been expensive and carefully chosen.

The woman standing in my doorway looked like a ghost.

She wore a dark gray coat over a black turtleneck. Her face was white. Dark circles hung under her eyes. Her lips were cracked and dry. Her hair was pulled back carelessly, but strands had come loose and stuck to her

cheeks.

he looked like she hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

ooked at her for a few second. Then I looked back down at my paper.

“Lambert,” she said.

“You have the wrong person,” I said without looking up. “There’s no Lambert here. My name is Lucien.”

She didn’t leave. She walked in slowly, her footsteps hesitant on the wooden floor.

“Your design style is unmistakable,” she said. Her voice was shaking. “Rebirth. The lines. The spatial logic. The light court in the center.” She paused. I could feel her eyes on me. “It’s exactly like the Cloud Bridge you drew years ago. The one you wanted to build for me.”

I didn’t answer.

“Lambert, please. Don’t lie to me. I know it’s you.”