Too Late For His Empty Regret

Ethan POV: Kendall clung to my arm, her laughter bright and theatrical as we walked through the bustling street. I forced a smile, but a strange unease gnawed at me. A flash of a black luxury sedan, sleek and familiar, caught my eye in the rearview of a passing car. It was gone before I could place it. "Ethan, darling, you look distracted," Kendall purred, pouting dramatically. "Are you thinking about your wife?" She practically spat the word. "Don't be ridiculous, Kendall," I snapped, my irritation rising. But the image of the car, the brief, unsettling glimpse, lingered. I shook my head. "Let's just go home." Home. The word felt hollow. I hadn't been back to the house in weeks. My son. Audrey. A flicker of guilt, quickly dismissed, pricked at me. They were fine. Audrey always kept everything in order. I compared Kendall to Audrey in my mind. Kendall was vibrant, exciting, a firecracker. Audrey was… comfortable. Familiar. Like an old sweater. But recently, the old sweater felt itchy. Kendall' s ambition matched mine. Her no-kids stance was a relief. Audrey' s postpartum body, the endless sleepless nights, the constant demands of a newborn… it had become a burden. Still, a faint unease persisted. My family. Audrey's father. The investment. I knew it was a risk, but Kendall had convinced me. You need to show them you're ruthless, Ethan. That you're not afraid to make bold moves. They'll respect you for it. My father's words, cold and cutting, echoed in my mind. Legacy, Ethan. Succession. Don't be a fool. Kendall, sensing my shift in mood, pulled me closer, her eyes flashing with a possessive glint. "Come on, let's get in the car." She practically dragged me into the waiting limousine. Inside, she immediately started to work her magic. Her hand traced the line of my jaw, her lips brushing my ear. "You're so tense, darling. Let me help you relax." Her voice was a low murmur, full of seductive promise. The anxiety, the vague sense of foreboding, slowly dissipated under her touch. I leaned back, letting her take control. Audrey was probably home, tending to the baby, docile and predictable. She wouldn't cause trouble. She never did. Two weeks blurred into a haze of lavish parties, private jets, and Kendall' s insatiable desire for attention. We were in Monaco, then Bali, then Paris. Every time I mentioned going home, Kendall found a new reason to stay. A fashion show. A charity gala. A "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunity. The novelty was starting to wear thin. Her constant need for affirmation, the endless selfies, the superficial conversations… it was exhausting. I found myself comparing her to Audrey again. Audrey, quiet and elegant, who knew how to hold a conversation, how to be present. Kendall, for all her flash, was… shallow. Her beauty, once intoxicating, now felt cheap, garish. I remembered nights with Audrey, curled up on the couch, reading side by side, or simply talking for hours about nothing and everything. Her quiet strength. Her gentle humor. A pang of something, not regret, but a wistful longing, pricked at my heart. Kendall' s insistent touch brought me back to the present. She was trying to climb into my lap, her lips pressing against mine. I pushed her gently away. "No, Kendall. I'm tired. I'm going back. Tomorrow." Her face fell, but she quickly recovered. "Of course, darling. Whatever you wish. I just want you to be happy." She smiled, a saccharine, fake smile. "I'll book our flights first thing in the morning." I nodded, satisfied. She understood. I was going home. Back to my stable, predictable life. Back to Audrey. I closed my eyes, picturing Audrey' s soft face, her gentle smile. She would be waiting. She always waited. As soon as I drifted off, Kendall' s phone lit up on the bedside table. She picked it up, her movements quick and furtive. She had been sending Audrey videos. Every single day. Videos of us, laughing, kissing, living a life Audrey could only dream of. Videos of me, casually dismissing Audrey, criticizing her, calling her a burden. She had made sure to select the most hurtful clips. The ones where I talked about Audrey' s postpartum body with disgust. The ones where I praised Kendall for agreeing to never have children. She watched the notifications on Audrey' s account, seeing the messages being read, but never replied to. She' ll leave him. She has to. Kendall thought, a vicious satisfaction blooming in her chest. Then he' ll be all mine. She deleted the chat logs. Every single message. Every video. She washed her face, meticulous in her deceit. Then she slipped back into bed, a triumphant smile on her lips, and fell asleep beside me. I woke up hours later, restless. The vague unease returned. I glanced at Kendall, sleeping soundly beside me. Her phone was on the nightstand. A gut feeling, a prickle of suspicion, made me reach for it. My fingers brushed against the cool metal. Had she been up? Was she talking to someone? I tried to shake it off. Kendall was transparent. There was nothing to hide. But the feeling persisted.