Chapter 10: Too Late for Regret

Six months had passed since I left Maisie.

I had moved to a quiet coastal town where nobody knew my name, my marriage, or how much time I had left.

My health had continued to decline, but I was no longer afraid of death.

I had learned that there was a difference between dying and wasting your life.

For years, I had been alive but trapped in a marriage where I was never truly chosen.

Now, even with death waiting somewhere ahead of me, I finally felt free.

One afternoon, I received a call from my lawyer.

"Tristan, Maisie wants to see you."

I looked out at the ocean.

"Why?"

"She says she needs to apologize in person."

I was quiet for a while.

Then I asked, "Is the divorce finalized?"

"Yes."

"Then there's nothing left to discuss."

My lawyer sighed. "She says she knows that. She just wants you to hear her."

I almost refused.

But something inside me told me that I had nothing left to fear from seeing her.

"Fine. Tell her I'll meet her tomorrow."

The next afternoon, Maisie arrived alone.

She looked thinner than I remembered.

There were dark circles beneath her eyes, and the confidence she once carried everywhere had disappeared.

She sat across from me without saying anything.

For several seconds, we simply stared at each other.

"You look different," she whispered.

"So do you."

Her lips trembled.

"I deserve that."

I didn't answer.

"After you left, I thought I could fix everything," she continued. "I ended things with Dash. I sold the villa. I stopped seeing everyone else."

I looked at her calmly.

"Why?"

She lowered her eyes.

"Because I finally understood that none of them were you."

I gave a bitter smile.

"You understood too late."

"I know."

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I thought you'd always be there, Tristan. I thought no matter how badly I treated you, you'd still come back."

"You weren't wrong," I said quietly. "I did come back every time."

She covered her face with her hands.

"I'm sorry."

Those words were simple.

For years, I had imagined hearing them.

But now they couldn't repair anything.

"I forgive you," I said.

Maisie looked up in surprise.

"You do?"

"Yes."

I smiled faintly.

"But forgiving you doesn't mean I want you back."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears.

"Do you hate me?"

"No."

I shook my head.

"I stopped hating you when I stopped loving you."

She looked down at her hands.

"Is there someone else?"

"No."

"Then why can't you give me another chance?"

I looked toward the ocean outside the window.

"Because I spent every chance you gave me trying to make you love me."

My voice softened.

"I don't have anything left to prove."

Maisie cried silently.

I let her.

There was a time when her tears would have destroyed me.

Now they simply belonged to the past.

She stood after a long silence.

"I hope you find peace, Tristan."

"I already did."

She nodded and walked away.

I watched her disappear through the glass doors.

For the first time, I didn't feel the urge to follow.

That evening, I returned to my small apartment and opened the box of memories I had carried with me.

There were photographs from college.

The first paycheck.

The macarons receipt.

Pictures of Maisie smiling beside me before everything changed.

I kept one photograph.

Not because I wanted her back.

Because it reminded me that once, I had loved someone sincerely.

And there was nothing shameful about that.

A week later, Dr. Carson called.

"Tristan, your latest results came back."

I sat quietly as he explained them.

The illness had progressed beyond what treatment could realistically reverse.

I had months at most.

I thanked him and ended the call.

Then I opened the window.

The sea breeze filled the room.

I thought about the life I had once wanted with Maisie.

A house.

Children.

Quiet mornings.

A future together.

I had lost all of it.

But somehow, losing her had given me something I had forgotten I possessed.

Myself.

I spent my remaining days traveling whenever my body allowed it.

I watched sunsets in places I had never visited.

I ate food I had once denied myself.

I made friends who knew nothing about my marriage and never asked me to prove my worth.

And every morning, I woke up grateful that I had finally stopped waiting for someone else's love to make my life meaningful.

On the last evening, I sat beside the ocean with the sunset stretching across the water.

My phone remained silent.

I smiled.

There was no anger anymore.

No jealousy.

No regret.

Only peace.

I closed my eyes and whispered, "Goodbye, Mae."

Somewhere far away, Maisie Summers was probably living with the consequences of everything she had done.

She had finally learned what she had lost.

But regret had arrived after the ending.

And this time, there was no turning back.

I had spent years waiting for Maisie to choose me.

In the end, I chose myself.

THE END