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Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson

Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 1128    |    Released on: 22/01/2026

k blot on their perfect canvas. A couple pass

at th

is assistant. Or

ree though. Now

as a command, not a noti

trembling slightly, not from fear, but from the sharp, twisting cramp that had been wringing her stomach fo

piercing through the quiet hum of the p

The pain in her abdome

just finished the patch for the server migrat

her finish. She n

standing on a curb waiting for an Uber are unacceptable. Do you unders

ne wen

autiful cage, this penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a city that felt a million miles away.

wife. Not partner. Useful. Like

ght by Eleanor, chosen by stylists, worn by a mannequin. Alexia bypassed them all. She re

ed out by sleepless nights and the silent, grinding stress of the last three years. She uncapped a tube of red lipstick a

al slip from the doctor she had seen secretly last week. Suspected

et her h

a metronome counting down the seconds of her patience. Every bump in the road sent a shockwave through her right side. She gripped

Carlson family crest on the license plate frame commanded a respect

ing, Mrs.

bby air was warm, perfumed with expensive lilies and old money.

olite laughter grew louder. It was the sound of her husband's world

the room. It di

e crystal chandelier as if the light ex

hampagne, his posture relaxed, confident, the master of his universe. And stand

ee B

mind burning. Her hand was on his forearm. Her fingers were long, manicured, resting there with a familiarity

n lau

in years. A genuine, low rumble of amusement. His

's lungs turned i

pain was sharp, grounding. It kept her fro

he s

e vanished instantly. It was like a shutter coming down over a lens. His eyes wen

her hand away. Instead, she smiled. It w

walked toward Alexia. He didn't rush. He moved

. No hello. No kiss.

o say. Her voice felt thi

nd, cutting her

le

o. I've had e

her pallor. He didn't notice the way she was

her presence lingering. "Don't be too hard on her, Je

with pity. "You look tired, Alexia. You really should t

bold Alexia a

looked at Aubree, his expression softening

you get back?

nod

ck on Alexia and walk

h pulsing in time with her heart. She was the wife. She

at rattled in her ch

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Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson
Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson
“I stood at the edge of the ballroom, a black blot on my husband's perfect canvas. While Jensen Carlson stood under the crystal chandeliers as the master of his universe, the guests whispered that his "friend" Aubree was a much better match for him than I ever could be. My stomach was twisting in sharp, jagged cramps from what I knew was acute appendicitis, but to the Carlson family, I wasn't a wife-I was a utility. My mother-in-law called me a "drill bit" and ordered me to drive Jensen home like a servant because his "optics" mattered more than my internal organs. When I arrived, Jensen didn't ask why I was shaking; he just snapped that my black coat was "depressing" and told me to stop "fidgeting" with my medication. He spent the night whispering to Aubree, then came home and fed my divorce papers into a shredder, mocking me for thinking I could survive a week without the Carlson name. The next day, he humiliated me in front of my entire department, accusing me of flirting with staff just as I was about to collapse from the pain. I had given up my PhD for this man and secretly written the code that built his billion-dollar empire, yet he viewed me as nothing more than a "depreciating asset." Even as I lay shivering on the hardwood floor because his mother locked the guest rooms to force me into his bed, he only sneered, asking if he was "that repulsive" when the pain made me vomit. "If you're not in the car by seven, I'll cut off your grandfather's medical funding." That was the final thread. I didn't go to the gala. Instead, I reclaimed my original patents, wiped my server access, and met him on the curb with a cardboard box and a resignation letter. "I'm not your wife anymore, Jensen. And I'm not your employee." As my Uber pulled away, leaving him clutching a revoked patent and a divorce petition, I realized I wasn't losing everything-I was finally starting to breathe.”