Too Late to Regret: My Husband’s Toxic Secret

On our third anniversary, Clement pressured me to bring some files he had left at home to his campus. Heavily pregnant, I braved the pouring rain and headed out with the specific files he insisted on having. But less than five hundred meters from the school, a group of local thugs cornered me in a dark alley to rob me. To protect Clement’s files, I held onto my bag with all my might. Infuriated, the thugs stabbed me repeatedly. My blood stained the rain-slicked pavement a gruesome crimson. As I weakly tried to call Clement for help, his childhood friend Matt’s call came through first. Over the speaker, I could hear Clement and his friends laughing and making a bet. "Hey Clement, is Caroline really going to bring you those files in this storm?" "Aren't you afraid she’ll find out the envelope only contains the sketch you drew of Grace and get mad at you?" Clement let out a soft chuckle, his tone dripping with sheer contempt. "She wouldn't dare." Clement's words hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled, lost my footing, and collapsed heavily onto the cold, wet ground. To the sound of Grace and Clement flirting and laughing through the phone, my consciousness slowly faded away as I lay in the dark. Two hours later, having lost a massive amount of blood, I was rushed to the ER. When I finally woke up, the doctor gave me a pitiful look and shook his head. It was too late. The baby was gone. I stared blankly at my now-flat stomach, letting the tears stream silently down my face. Clement, since you let me lose our child over a stupid joke with your friends, I’m done. I’ll let you two have each other. 1. As I was getting my IV drip, my phone on the bedside table suddenly buzzed. Clement’s Instagram had updated. It was a family portrait. It featured everyone in Clement’s family, with Grace leaning tightly against his shoulder. The caption read: "The happiest family dinner ever." I couldn't help but tap the heart button and leave a like. Almost instantly, Clement’s FaceTime call came through, his voice laced with annoyance. "Caroline, the family dinner has already started. Where the hell are you? If you didn't want to come, you should’ve just said so!" "How do you even have the nerve to let Grace run around and host everyone in your place?" Before I could even open my mouth to tell him I was in the hospital, he hung up on me. My eyes welled up instantly, but I squeezed them shut, forcing myself not to cry. "Oh, Caroline, sweetheart. You just got out of a life-threatening surgery. You need to calm down. Don't cry, it’s bad for your recovery!" The nurse saw my tears and quickly came over, her eyes filled with deep sympathy. "Caroline, the stab wound punctured your abdomen and severely damaged your uterus. You... you might not be able to get pregnant again." Her words felt like a physical strike to my chest. My face went completely pale. That night, everything that had happened during the day replayed in my mind. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep as a sharp, throbbing pain radiated from my stitches. The next morning, in a daze, I felt someone gently tucking in my blanket. I opened my eyes. It was Clement. A container of pasta he had brought was sitting on the nightstand, still steaming. He reached out to touch my forehead. "You're awake? Why didn't you tell me you got hurt last night?" I subtly pulled back, avoiding his touch, and said half-heartedly: "I didn't think it was a big deal, so I didn't mention it." A flicker of surprise crossed Clement’s eyes. In the past, even if I got a tiny paper cut, I would cling to him and whine for attention. He couldn't understand why I was suddenly so cold. He picked up the pasta, blowing on it gently to cool it down. "I brought you breakfast. Come on, open up." I stared at him blankly. Right now, this Clement looked no different from the gentle, caring husband he used to be. But when exactly did he change? I took small bites of the pasta, my mind drifting through old memories. Clement stepped out of the room to throw away some trash. Ding. His phone on the nightstand lit up. It was a Snapchat message from Grace, accompanied by a cute sticker. Driven by some strange impulse, I unlocked his phone and tapped on their chat. [Clement, what happened to Caroline? Is she doing any better?] [Don't worry, she won't die.] A mocking smile touched my lips as I put the phone back exactly where it was. When Clement returned, he glanced at his phone, then left without even looking back, throwing a careless promise over his shoulder. "Get some rest. I’ll come back to see you and bring you dinner after work." The day dragged on in silence. I ate the bland hospital food the nurse had kindly bought for me from the cafeteria, aimlessly scrolling through my phone. Suddenly, an Instagram Reel posted by Grace popped up on my feed. My fingers trembled as I tapped on it. In the video, the two of them were standing at the edge of a bungee jumping platform. Grace was covering her eyes in fear, burying herself in Clement's chest. He smiled dotingly, securing her safety harness before wrapping his arms tightly around her. Together, they leaped off the platform. The crowd around them cheered at their thrilling, romantic jump. The caption read: "Someone's way of cheering me up is so romantic!!! No annoying third wheels around. What a perfect day." Watching the video, my grip on the fork in my hand tightened until my knuckles turned white. Clement has a heart condition. Ever since I got together with him, I had given up all the extreme sports I loved just to keep him safe. I never imagined he would risk his own life doing something so dangerous just to make Grace happy. I took a deep breath and dialed Dr. Porter, my former advisor at NYU. "Professor, I’ve decided. I’d love to join your research team and work in your lab." 2. "Caroline, are you absolutely sure? You know my lab has very strict rules. You’ll have to live on campus and be on call constantly..." "I'm sure, Dr. Porter. Please make the arrangements." After hanging up, I booked a one-way flight to New York for a week later. The next second, Clement’s suspicious voice sounded from behind me. "Caroline, why are you looking at flights? Where are you going?" I calmly locked my screen and slipped the phone away. "Nothing. I just clicked on an ad by mistake." He frowned, staring at me intensely. He knew I had no family or friends in this city. Years ago, I had abandoned everything to follow him to Miami, thousands of miles away from my hometown. During our years of marriage, I had sacrificed all my hobbies and social life, letting my entire world revolve around him. Seeing nothing unusual on my face, his expression softened. He handed me a takeout box. "What do you want to eat tomorrow? I’ll bring it over." A strong, pungent smell of spicy seafood hit my nose. I recoiled slightly and shook my head. "No, thank you. I’ve already eaten." Clement's face immediately darkened. "Caroline, you're just throwing a tantrum because I brought your food late." "You have nothing to do but relax in this hospital room all day. Can't you show some appreciation for how hard I work and how much I have to overtime?" Listening to his typical blame-shifting, I couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. My reaction seemed to infuriate him. He tossed the takeout box straight into the trash can. "Fine. Starve then." As Clement was about to walk out of the room, I couldn't help but ask. "Clement, as a prestigious university professor, do you really not know the basic medical common sense that post-surgery patients cannot have spicy food or seafood?" His footsteps halted. But he didn't apologize. He walked out without looking back, leaving the room smelling of spicy seafood. Five days later, I discharged myself and went home. Before I even reached the door, I could hear laughter and music coming from inside. My hand froze on the doorknob. I pushed the door open. The living room was covered in Grace’s portrait posters, with birthday balloons floating everywhere. A crowd was throwing a huge birthday party for Grace. Surrounded by cheering friends, Clement was sharing a drink with a blushing Grace. Grace looked up, saw me, and smirked. "Caroline! You're out of the hospital! Why are you just standing at the door? Come in!" Hearing her voice, everyone turned to look at the entrance. Clement quickly let go of Grace’s waist and walked over to help me sit on the couch. "Why didn't you call me to pick you up?" I looked at him with a faint, tired smile. "I did call you. You didn't pick up." 3. The guests exchanged awkward glances, and a tense silence fell over the living room. Ignoring the awkwardness, I politely greeted everyone and made my way to our bedroom to start packing my things. Suddenly, Clement grabbed my wrist. He spoke in a casual, matter-of-fact tone: "Caroline, today is Grace’s birthday. Give your tenure promotion slot to her. Just consider it a birthday gift." "You’re injured and need to recover anyway. Your old, less demanding teaching assistant job is much better suited for your recovery." Thinking about how I would be leaving soon anyway, I simply nodded. "Okay." Clement obviously didn't expect me to agree so easily. Realizing his demand was indeed a bit selfish, he stood there, momentarily stunned. A few seconds later, a smile returned to his face. He handed me a slice of birthday cake. "Weren't you looking at flights the other day? Once you’re fully recovered, I’ll take you on a trip abroad." I found his attempt at compensation absolutely hilarious. In all our years of marriage, he had spent almost every vacation taking Grace abroad. The times he had traveled with me, his actual wife, could be counted on one hand. I set the cake back down on the table and shook my head dismissively. "We'll see." "I'm exhausted. I’m going to lay down." With that, I walked straight into the bedroom. The next morning before classes started, Clement left my favorite breakfast on my desk. My colleagues giggled and teased me. "Clement is so sweet! He's not only the youngest professor on campus, but he's also so devoted to Caroline..." I just smiled, handed his breakfast to them, and opened my laptop to draft my resignation letter. During lunch break, an unwelcome guest walked into my office. Grace came in, wearing a fake, sweet smile to thank me for giving up the promotion. "Caroline, you're so amazing. You can get promotions just by relying on your academic skills." "Unlike me. I have to rely on Clement for everything." A smug glint flashed in her eyes. She reached out to touch a trophy on my shelf. "Oh, this trophy is so pretty. Oops! How did it slip?" Before her voice even faded, the golden ceramic trophy shattered onto the floor, breaking into a million pieces. That trophy was won years ago when Clement, then a graduate senior, led our team to victory in an international competition. I was one of the team members back then. It was during that trip that I fell head over heels for him and chased him for three long years. That trophy held a special meaning for us. I had always kept it in my office, cherishing it. And now, shattered on the floor, it looked exactly like my fragile, dying marriage with Clement—broken beyond repair at a single touch. Quietly, I swept up the sharp ceramic shards and threw them all into the trash. As I walked out of the dean's office after submitting my resignation, Clement stopped me. "Caroline, what were you doing in the dean’s office? What's that in your hand?" He reached out, trying to grab the resignation letter from my hand. My heart skipped a beat. I quickly stuffed the letter into my bag, trying to hide my panic. Just then, Grace stepped out from behind him, her eyes red and watery. "Caroline, I really didn't mean to break your trophy. Why did you have to go to the dean to complain and try to take away my promotion?" Clement’s face darkened, his gaze turning cold and demanding. "Grace already told me everything. It was just an accident." "Stop being so petty." I had skipped grades since I was a child. Technically, I was two years younger than Grace. I replied flatly, "I don't care about it." I tried to walk past them to leave. But Grace wouldn't let me. She blocked my path, tears spilling over her cheeks. "Caroline, if you really don't care, why are you lying? This promotion means everything to me. You already have Clement, why do you have to steal this from me too?" As she grabbed me, her fingers dug forcefully into my fresh abdominal stitches where Clement couldn't see. The intense pressure caused my stitches to rip open. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Gasping in pain, I instinctively pushed her away. Grace stumbled back a few steps, falling right into Clement's arms, sobbing hysterically. "Clement, I don't know why Caroline hates me so much! What did I do wrong?" Clement's eyes turned ice-cold. "Caroline, apologize to Grace right now!" Clutching my bleeding stomach, I gritted my teeth. "Why should I?" Slap! Clement raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. "Caroline, stop playing these pathetic mind games behind my back. Do it again, and we are getting a divorce!" I stared at Clement’s back as he walked away, gently cradling Grace in his arms. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth. "Clement, you got it." I packed up the rest of my office belongings and mailed them directly to New York. Then, I mailed our house keys back to Clement. Looking around the empty office, I suppressed the final trace of hesitation in my heart and turned to leave. As I walked out of the campus gates, my phone buzzed with a message from Clement. He said Grace had received her official promotion email, and they realized they had misunderstood me. He wanted to buy me dinner to make it up to me. Perhaps this would be our final dinner together. Fine. Let's consider this the official end of our relationship. I agreed. When I opened the passenger door of Clement's car, I saw Grace sitting there. Clement said casually: "Grace's parents aren't home to cook for her, and she wanted to apologize to you in person for what happened this afternoon." I simply nodded, climbed into the back seat, and closed my eyes to rest. All the way to the restaurant, Grace chatted excitedly with Clement about her promotion. She mentioned how her new office would be so much closer to his now. Clement kept checking my expression through the rearview mirror, remaining unusually quiet. Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the restaurant. Halfway through the meal, Clement suddenly asked, "Why is your office completely empty?" "Oh, I just wanted to move to an office with better sunlight," I lied, my voice devoid of any emotion. Near the end of the dinner, the chandelier above our table suddenly flickered, then crashed down with a deafening shatter. Glass shards flew everywhere as panic erupted in the restaurant. Since I was sitting closest to the blast, a sharp piece of glass sliced deep into my arm. Blood began to pour. Without even glancing at my bleeding arm, Clement instantly scooped Grace up in his arms and rushed out of the restaurant. Two hours later, after making sure Grace was safely settled in a hospital bed, Clement finally remembered me. A sudden wave of panic washed over him. He rushed back to the restaurant, but I was nowhere to be found. "Caroline!"