Flames of Regret

"Are you kidding me? You two aren't even divorced yet, and he is already this desperate?" Anwen exclaimed.

Scattered across the couch and carpet were various pieces of women's clothing. The trash bin was overflowing with crumpled tissues.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened—Benedict had brought Celestine here for their little escapade.

Even though I had already given up on him, seeing this scene still hurt.

This was my home, too. The thought of Celestine invading a place filled with memories of my marriage felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

Clenching my fists tightly, I made my way to the bedroom.

Just as I expected, the place was a disaster—ransacked as if a gang of bandits had stormed through.

My clothes had been shredded. My makeup on the vanity had been mostly used up. The jewelry in my closet was nearly gone, too.

But the worst part? The couple's rings Benedict had given me before our wedding. The once-beautiful engravings had been scrapped and distorted, and now, the rings lay abandoned in the trash, treated like worthless junk.

Anwen, who was cursing under her breath, reached out to retrieve them.

I stopped her. "Leave them. They're ruined."

There was no turning back spilled water, and a broken mirror can never be made whole again. Even if we cleaned them up, those rings would never be the same.

Benedict and I had met through a blind date. Maybe it was his striking looks, or maybe it was the romanticized allure of his firefighter career, but I fell for him at first sight.

Later, I saw him rushing into a burning building to save someone. Covered in soot and grime, he looked anything but glamorous, yet to me, he was radiant—like a hero bathed in golden light. The world faded, leaving only the pounding of my own heart.

I fell for him completely.

Even though Benedict was distant toward me, I pursued him relentlessly. Eventually, he gave in and agreed to date me.

Looking back, I realize he probably wasn't moved by my persistence—he had just given up resisting.

After we started dating, I met his parents and learned about his past.

In high school, Benedict had been close to a girl—a girl named Celestine Aldridge. They had promised to attend the same college and marry after graduation. But after the college entrance exam, Celestine was sent abroad to further her study.

At first, they talked every day online. But over time, Celestine's messages became fewer and fewer. Eventually, she stopped answering his calls and ignored his texts.

Months later, she sent him a simple breakup message, cutting off all contact without giving him a chance to plead his case.

Benedict spiraled into a deep slump for months. He never dated again and joined the military. After his service years later, he became a firefighter.

It was only under pressure from his parents that he finally agreed to go on blind dates, and that was how we ended up together.

I knew from the start that a man with a lingering first love was hard to hold on to. But I was stubborn. I thought since he was so devoted to one person, once he became my husband, I would never have to worry about infidelity.

Now, I see how foolish I was.

There was no need to worry about other mistresses, because once the long-lost first love returned, no one else could compete. Even as his legal wife, I had been utterly defeated.

Sniffling, I abandoned my plan to pack my belongings.

"Anwen, help me take inventory. I want a record of every single thing she's damaged. Celestine is going to pay for every last bit of it, or I'm reporting her to the police!"

As for everything else? Taking it with me would only be a painful reminder, so might as well leave it all behind.

I would consider it a funeral for my youth—a life wasted on the wrong person.