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Too Late For Regret: My Genius Wife
Too Late For Regret: My Genius Wife

Too Late For Regret: My Genius Wife

35 Chapters
Completed
In Too Late For Regret: My Genius Wife, Carie survives a medical crisis only to face her husband's betrayal. This modern novel follows her mission to reclaim the empire she built. After filing for divorce, the genius wife uses her power to ruin those who wronged her.

Too Late For Regret: My Genius Wife Summary

While Carie fights for her life in the ER, her husband Erik ignores her calls to celebrate his sister-in-law's child. After losing her own baby alone, Carie's grief is met with mockery from a husband who views her as a disposable orphan. Erik forgets that Carie’s hidden genius created his empire. Now, she is walking away with a divorce filing and a destructive code. She isn't just ending their marriage; she is reclaiming everything she built.
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Chapter 1 of Too Late For Regret: My Genius Wife

Severe pain.

Kelly felt a serrated knife stirring inside her lower abdomen, scraping against the walls of her uterus.

Carie staggered through the automatic door of the emergency room in Lenox Hill, her hands clutching her stomach and her knuckles turning white.

A blurry sterile white light flashed in her eyes, and the pungent smell of disinfectant water burned her nasal passages, making her head start to hurt.

"Ma'am?" The nurse's voice was sharp: "Are you okay, ma'am! ”

"Help," Kelly whispered, but the voice was engulfed by a loud roar in her ears. She felt a warm, sticky liquid gushing from between her legs, soaking her jeans and running down her thighs.

It's all blood.

The nurse arrived immediately, her hand grabbing Carie's arm and helping her into the wheelchair. The vinyl seat was cold against her hot skin.

A few minutes later, a doctor leaned over her. His face was gloomy, a mask of professional detachment, which frightened Carie more than pain.

"Mrs. Flynn, you're bleeding profusely." He said, his voice short. "The fetus cannot be saved. We need immediate curettage (D&C) to stop the bleeding. I need your signature. ”

He pushed a folder in front of her. The paper was new, and the black ink of the consent form was blurred under the harsh fluorescent light.

Medical referral.

She needs Erik.

Her trembling fingers fumbled with her phone in her coat pocket. The screen lights up and dazzles brightly. She called his private number.

A bell rang. Two bells rang.

Click.

"You've connected to Erik Flynn's voicemail. Please ......"

She hung up the phone and sobbed like a jagged stone.

She dialed Julian, Erik's administrative assistant. He answered the phone when it rang.

"Mrs. Flynn?" Julian's voice was tight and anxious.

"Julian, let Eric answer the phone. Now. I'm in the hospital. I'm losing ......" Carie couldn't finish the words. A sharp pain hit her, and she curled up in her chair.

"I...... I can't, ma'am," Julian stammered. "Mr. Flynn is upstairs. He issued a strict order not to disturb him. This is an agreement with Ms. Christian. ”

Upstairs.

He was in this building.

Another bout of pain hit, this time more intense, leaving her breathless. She clenched her lip until she tasted blood.

She let go of her phone. The phone fell on the linoleum floor with a clicking sound.

She snatched the pen from the nurse's hand. Her signature is scribbled and twisted, a testament to her trembling hands and broken heart.

"Do it," she gasped.

The nurse looked at Carie with pity. She hated that kind of look. That's worse than pain.

They pushed her into the operating room. The lights above my head are dazzling, like looking directly at the sun.

"Countdown from ten," says the anesthesiologist.

She puts her hand on her flat stomach. It feels empty. Icy cold.

"I'm sorry," she thought, a tear sliding down her hairline. "I'm really sorry."

Darkness consumes her.

She woke up to the rhythmic beeping of her monitor. Her body felt hollowed out and scraped clean. The anesthetic left a metallic taste in her mouth.

She was in the recovery room. The room was as cold as an ice cellar. Her head ached, and a sharp pain came from the depths of her lower abdomen, a vague echo of the previous pain. Her limbs were heavy, and it took a lot of strength to even shift her gaze.

She reached for her phone on the bedside table. She taps the screen.

Zero missed calls. Zero messages.

Another nurse walked in and checked the infusion bag hanging above her.

"Where is my husband?" Her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against a stone.

The nurse did not look up from her medical record book. "Oh, Mr. Flynn? He was also on the VIP floor. The maternity ward is chaotic tonight. He had been there for hours, supporting Ms. Christian. ”

Her heart stopped. It did miss a beat and hit her ribs in pain.

"Support her?"

"Yes, her birth was difficult. He was very devoted to his sister-in-law. ”

A cold fury, sharper than any physical pain, began to condense inside Carie. Her vision blurred for a moment, and the room tilted as she got up, and a wave of nausea came over her. She pulled the infusion needle out of her hand.

Blood gushed out, and a bright red bead of blood turned into a thin stream that dripped onto the white sheets.

"Ma'am! You can't—"

"Don't touch me," Carie said. Her voice was low and murderous.

Every step exerted a huge amount of effort, fighting the vertigo of her weak body. She swayed, holding on to the bed frame, then the wall, breathing fast and heavy. Stepping barefoot on the floor, feeling like ice, a chill rushed down her spine, temporarily clearing the fog from her mind. She walked. She no longer felt pain in the uterus. She no longer felt dizzy. She only felt a cold and firm determination.

She took the elevator to the top floor. VIP ward area.

The elevator door slid open and the atmosphere changed. Filled with the fragrance of expensive lilies and new life.

She heard it first, then she saw it. Baby's cry. Sharp and demanding.

Then there was laughter. Warm, full laughter.

She moved behind a massive load-bearing column, her back clinging to the cold marble. She poked her head out from the edge.

The door of Suite 1 is closed.

She saw him.

Erik sat in a leather armchair with his blazer thrown aside. He held a swaddle in his arms and shook it gently.

His face changed. The sharp lines of his jaw softened. He looks...... With love. He looks like the kind of father he promised Carie yesterday that he wanted to be.

Athena lies in a hospital bed, pale but beautiful, like the heroine of a tragedy in a Victorian novel. She reached out and placed her hand on Erik's forearm.

"Thank you, Eric," she said softly. Her voice was weak and panting.

Erik didn't withdraw his hand. He leaned down and smiled at the baby. "He's a little fighter, Athena. Garfield would be proud of him. ”

Carie felt burned from all inside. It is no longer physical pain. But her soul was torn apart.

He was playing house with the woman who had made her live like hell, holding her child in her arms, while her own child was scraped in the basement.

Julian walked out of the room with two cups of coffee. He almost bumped into Carie.

"Mrs. Flynn?" Julian's eyes widened. He looked at her hospital gown, with blood stained in front of her, and her naked feet.

Carie brings a finger to her lips. Her eyes were lifeless.

"Not a word," she whispered.

In the room, Athena spoke again. "I really don't know what to do without you, Eric. You are the only family we have left. ”

"I'm not going anywhere," Erik promised. He tucked the blanket over her shoulder.

That's all. The last string broke.

She didn't break in. She didn't scream. She just turned around.

"Please, ma'am, let me go and get the car over," Julian whispered, his eyes filled with panic.

"Go to death, Julian," Carie said.

She walked to the stairwell. She went down layer after layer until her legs were hot. Every step sent a sharp pain through her abdomen, but the burning sensation in her chest was an even more powerful motivation.

She went to the dressing room on the ground floor and changed back into her clothes. Her jeans were stiff from dried blood. She still put it on.

She took out her phone.

Settings. Emergency contacts. Erik Flynn. Delete.

She opens the photo album. Select all. Delete.

She walked out of the revolving door and into the night of Manhattan.

The cold wind hit her like a heavy blow. Snowflakes swirled around her, stinging her bare skin. It was a snowstorm.

She breathed heavily, and a chill slid down her spine. She was weak, bleeding, and alone. But a strong determination as cold as snow took root deep within her. She needed to leave and go to a place where she could breathe and think.

Her phone was buzzing. Katy, her best friend, sent a message. 'Where are you?' I'm worried about you. ’

She replied, 'Hospital. Need you. As soon as possible. ’

A few minutes later, a familiar black G-Class off-road vehicle (G-Wagon) pulled up to the side of the road. Katy, wearing a fur-lined parka, jumps out of the car with worry written on her face.

"Carie! What happened? She gasped at the sight of Carie's pale face and faint blood on her jeans. She didn't wait for an answer, her eyes swept over Carie's messy look.

"Drive," Carie said hoarsely, her voice stuck in her throat.

Katy opens the passenger door and almost helps Carie into her seat. She threw Carie's blood-stained bag in the back. As she slid into the driver's seat, she glanced at the towering boulder of glass and lights—Lenox Hill Hospital.

"Where are you going?" She asked, her voice tense.

"Long Island," Carie said, her voice firmed with new determination. "The Hamptons."

The car drove away, and Kelly left her husband completely behind and left with a longing for her child.

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