Lost Me Gained Regret

Although we hardly stayed there, the housekeeper kept the place spotless, with no dust in sight. Even the bed linens were changed every three days, fresh and crisp.

Above the headboard hung a wedding photo, a vintage masterpiece crafted by a top-notch editor, seamless and perfect.

It wasn't until Bryant sat on the bed that I tried to pull my wrist away. He tightened his grip, furrowing his brows. "We're not officially divorced yet, and you can't even help me with a little first aid?"

"I'll grab the first aid kit. What else am I supposed to use?" Feeling defeated, I had no choice but to comply.

Only then did Bryant let go of me. "Go ahead."

I rummaged through the drawer for the first aid kit, took out the antiseptic and ointment, and stood before him.

The gash on his forehead was ghastly. I slightly bowed my head, one hand supporting the back of his head, the other gently cleaning away the blood.

Timothy had given it to Bryant. As soon as I wiped away the blood, more seeped out.

It looked so painful. "Does it hurt?" I asked.

"It hurts. A lot." Bryant looked up at me, his eyes shimmering.

My heart softened, and as I blew on the wound while disinfecting it, he said contentedly, "That's better, thanks, babe."

I reminded him, "We're getting divorced."

"It's just habit." His eyes dropped slightly, shadowed by his long lashes, giving him an unexpectedly harmless vib I felt a pang in my heart. "It's okay. We'll get used to a new normal."

He would eventually get used to it.

It was just like I'd gotten used to turning in bed and hugging his waist, seeking comfort in his embrace. But lately, I'd often find myself grasping at air, waking up in the middle of the night to stare blankly before falling back into a restless sleep.

I thought, 'They say the hardest part about two people splitting up isn't the breakup, but getting used to living without each other. In an empty house, when you call out, there's no reply. But thankfully, time heals all wounds. Eventually, it will all pass. Call out, there's no Bryant fell silent and asked, "Do we have to change?"

"What else is there, Bryant? We're both going to start new lives. You will, and so will 1." 1 twisted open the ointment tube and applied it, then placed a band-aid over the wound, "There, all done."

As I stood up to leave, I knew I had to check on and needed some calming dowri.

othy who was probably still f

"Is that everything?" Bryant's question stopped me in my tracks, and under my puzzled gaze, he gestured to his

"My back hurts, too. Grandpa was dead set on defending your honor today. He might have gone too far if it wasn't illegal."

"Timothy was just heated. He wouldn't hurt you." I pursed my lips.

Bryant unbuttoned his shirt and struggled because of his shoulder injury. "You'll see."

"Wait." I still felt that maintaining some boundaries would be better for us. "This isn't right. I'll call Margaret n: to help with your back."

"Why isn't it right?" Bryant asked.

1 explained, "We're getting divorced, Bryant. It's just a matter of paperwork now.

Shouldn't we have some boundaries?"

"But we're not divorced yet."

Suddenly, he reached out, his fingers Ο Γ

slipping under my collar to hook out a necklace, focusing on the ring hanging there, his gaze intense. "See, you can't let go, either." Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.