The Greatest Regret of All Time

A short story about making a bold move — and quickly realizing you’ve fucked up

I.

“What do you mean, you need time to figure something out? We’re the happiest couple on earth!”

The pain in his voice and the look on his face shattered her heart. Because he was right, they were the happiest couple on earth and had been for twelve years.

This relationship was everything she’d ever dreamed of. They were partners, working on the same goal — to keep their relationship thriving. There was an abundance of mutual love, respect, admiration, and lust. They were each other’s biggest cheerleaders. He treated her like a queen, and she treated him like a king, ruling the world together.

They had even found a way to deal with her restlessness. Once a year, she would travel alone for at least two weeks. During the first week, she was happy to be alone and explore a new country without having to take anyone or anything into account. During the second week, she was looking forward to going back home.

It wasn’t until the baby was born that they finally moved in together. They were both independent and solitary people and understood each other’s needs. He never got restless in the way she did, though. But it never worried them. As soon as she started pacing the room at night again, muttering about wanting to be untethered, they’d book her a ticket and apartment together.

And that is why he never saw this coming.

“What do you mean, you need time? You have time! All the time and space is here, all for you! What do you need? Four weeks in Portugal?”

He sounded panicky now, and she didn’t know how to respond. Her stomach churned. She was scared only vomit would come out of her mouth if she started talking, so she remained silent while he bombarded her with an endless stream of questions.

And whoop — there it was. The question.

“Is there someone else?”

The silence said everything she couldn’t.

“You cheated?” The words marched over his lips, dripping with loathsomeness. The pain on his face dissipated, and his scowl made her cringe.

“No,” she said, her voice trembling. “You know I would never do that; please don’t doubt me now. But there is a man; nothing has happened, but I think I feel — ”

He told her to stop talking. “I don’t want to know,” he barked at her. “For twelve years, every decision has been a team decision, and now you’re suddenly flying solo? I don’t have a say in whatever is going on here. No discussion, no debate, and no middle ground. We’ve always had the same goal; do what is good for our relationship.”

Tears were streaming down her face as he kept on talking.

“And without warning, you’re tapping out? You have decided to do what is good for you without even talking it through. What about what is good for me? For our family? For our relationship? Just toss everything we’ve built together out of the window because you think you have feelings for someone?”

His final words cut the deepest.

“You’re better than this, Mia.”

II.

“I have some exciting news to share!” Trying to cover up the ball of sadness in her stomach, she sounded way cheerier than intended — almost manic. “I got married this weekend!”

Yaz immediately cheered and congratulated her. This was the easy part, now came the hard part. But Yaz went off script and interrupted her.

“I thought you and Manu didn’t believe in marriage? But still, congrats!”

She tried to sound light-hearted and produced a fake giggle. “Haha, no. I got married to Henry.”

“The fuck?”

Her best friend sounded angry.

“I know we haven’t seen each other much lately, but are you seriously telling me that you left the most amazing man in the world and married Handsy Henry from high school? Was I in a coma for a year or something? Or were you in a coma and suffered serious brain damage?”

Mia groaned. “Please, be a tad less judgmental; I am happy.”

The silence said it all.

That night, Mia snuggled up to Henry on the sofa. His sofa. In his house. Now their sofa, in their house. It was a hideous impractical thing, but Henry loved it because it was made by a designer who would be big one day. Massive.

Instead of cuddling her, he kept tapping away on his phone.

“Henry? Could you please hold me? I am sad.”

Without looking away from his phone, he asked her why.

“I told Yaz about our wedding — ”

He crudely interrupted her. “Let me guess; she felt left out? She was needy in school, still needy now. It’s unhealthy, the way she follows you around.”

The shock pushed the sadness out of her body. Quickly, she grabbed the phone from his hand, and forced him to make eye contact. “Excuse you? You can’t make critical assumptions and present them like facts. And please put your phone down when I try to talk to you.”

It had been a simple yet effective agreement between her Manu. You can’t have a proper conversation when someone is holding a phone. If one of them asked for a need to be met, the first thing the other one would do is be present. No screens, no books, no cooking utensils in hand. And after one heated argument, they agreed on empty hands during difficult conversations. There was a dent in the kitchen floor from when she’d shattered a dinner plate — including dinner — because she couldn’t find a healthier outlet for her frustration.

Henry frowned. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong, but your reaction is a bit out of line. Snatching my phone away like I am a toddler. Yaz has never liked me, the feeling is mutual, and I’m sorry if I don’t want to spend my rare free time talking about her. Especially not when I’m getting a high score in Candy Crush.”

“Huh,” she thought. “Astonishing.”

She handed him back his phone. “I am sorry, too, husband. I’m going for a quick walk to clear my head, and when I’m back, we need to establish some rules to make this marriage work.”

“Whatever you need, wife,” he mumbled, as he continued crushing his candies.

III.

“I think I have made a mistake.”

“No, shit.” Yaz’s words sounded sharp, but her eyes were soft. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’ve been asking around, and apparently, mental incapacity is ground for annulment.”

“Your mental incapacity or his?”

Mia smacked her best friend on her leg. “Now is not the time for jokes. I haven’t even had my first anniversary yet, and I don’t even understand why I married him in the first place.”

“Because this is exactly what the hopelessly romantic 15-year-old you once was wanted. You have had such a massive crush on him in your formative years; of course, you married him when you had the chance. It is literally your dream coming true.”

Groaning, Mia stood up. “That is exactly the issue. For a 15-year-old, this is the perfect marriage. For a grown woman with needs, not so much. It feels like he hasn’t really worked on personal growth since we left school. He doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings, he’s extremely dismissive of mine, he is addicted to every screen in the house, and where the sex was mind-blowingly good in the first couple of months, he’s now too tired even to hold me. Manu is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I threw it all away for a fantasy that went out of date decades ago.”

Yaz was a good friend. So she stood up, hugged Mia, and said, “Let me know how I can help.” She bit her tongue so hard she tasted blood the rest of the day.

IV.

“You know what’s funny, Mia? I knew we’d have this conversation. It’s just way sooner than I expected.”

Seeing Manu again confused her even more. She was still so incredibly attracted to him. It took her willpower not to reach out and stroke his face. But it felt inappropriate. She felt inappropriate. Her mouth felt dry, and her hands shaky. She had this whole speech prepared but now couldn’t remember a single word.

“You have to take me back, Manu. You have to.”

He looked shocked.

“Mia, I don’t have to do anything.” His voice was warm, the words cold.

“Yes, yes, you do,” she stammered. “You have to. We’re us, and I was wrong.”

When she saw how he rubbed his hands over his thighs, her heart sank in her chest. He always did that when he had to say something difficult.

“You broke our main rule. We make decisions as a team. You made a massive decision by yourself. And now you want to singlehandedly decide we’re getting back together? This is not how any of this works, babe.”

Tiny pearls of sweat found their way down her back.

“You got married a month after you left me. It shattered me. You shattered me. Who are you?”

The words fell out of her mouth before her brain even registered she was talking. “I am me, now! But I was who I was, or wanted to be as a teen. But I am not a teen, I know that now. I am me with you, and I thought I was who I was supposed to be, or who I always wanted to be with him, but I am not; I am nothing. Nothing without you.”

“I have no clue what you just said. could you please try again?” He wasn’t mocking her. Somewhere in her verbal diarrhea were the answers he so desperately wanted, but he had no idea how to sift through it.

After a few shaky breaths, she tried again. “As a teen, I had two major wishes. I wanted to become a doctor and marry Henry. But I lost contact with him after attending med school, and then I found you. And reality with you was better than any fantasy or dream about him.”

It was hard to talk through her tears, especially because she could see him holding back his tears. “And then when I met him again, I felt like I owed it to the 15-year-old I once was, to give her both her dreams.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you felt you owed more to your past self than to our current relationship?”

By now, she had turned into a blubbering mess.

“I can’t do this, Mia. We’re really good at the co-parenting thing; why don’t we just stick to that.” Without making eye contact, he stood up and walked away.

V.

The Italian sun was merciless. Even with three layers of sunscreen and her massive sun hat, she could feel the burn. It felt good. Like well-deserved punishment.

This was a new experience. Travel used to make her restlessness dissipate, but now it made it worse. She used to sparkle abroad; now she was a beached starfish. Slowly dying in the sun, longing for the ocean to give life.

When she stepped out of her apartment, Manu had texted a video of him and Ila. “I miss you, mama!” she had said. “I hope you are having as much fun as we are,” he added.

She used to love how easy it was to travel without her family. She missed them; of course, she did. But it was a sweet longing, not a sharp tugging. Now, travel was torture. She was too far away. She lived on the edges of her life, looking for a way back in.

Manu was thriving. Of course, he was. Ila too. They were too alike. Sometimes she felt she had just been a vessel for Ila, and didn’t contribute genetically. She was his daughter, not hers. And maybe that is why Manu didn’t seem to suffer as much as she did. She had lost her entire family — he had only lost her.

Yaz said she was being too melodramatic about the whole thing.

She rolled off her sunbed and crawled towards the ocean. There she sat, surrounded by swirling waves of regret.

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