PRICE OF REGRET

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floor of the Alvarez penthouse. Jake Foreman’s reflection stared back at him in the mirrored doors, tired eyes, loosened tie, the faint trace of a man who’d spent another day trying to prove he was worth something to people who never cared.

He exhaled, forcing a smile. Maybe tonight would be different. Daniela had said she wanted to talk. No mockery, no tension, just talk. The elevator doors slid open.

From the hallway, laughter drifted, low, intimate, a sound that didn’t belong to him. Jake froze. That was Daniela’s voice, light and teasing… and a man’s reply, deeper, smug.

He moved quietly, his heartbeat echoing louder than his footsteps. The door to their bedroom was half-open. Light spilled through the crack, along with the soft rhythm of music.

“Daniela,” he called softly, hoping, praying he was wrong.

Her voice came through, breathless. “Don’t stop… he’ll be home soon.”

Jake’s breath shattered. For a second, the world tilted. He pushed the door open. The scene hit him like a bullet. Daniela, his wife, was in another man’s arms, tangled in silk sheets that still smelled like their home.

The man turned, startled, but Jake didn’t even see his face; his gaze was fixed on her. Daniela froze. Her expression wasn’t guilt, it was irritation, like he’d interrupted something trivial. “Jake?” she said flatly, pulling the sheet over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

Jake’s voice came out calm, too calm. “I live here. Or at least I thought I did.”

The other man stood, smug grin returning. “You must be the husband. Awkward.”

Jake ignored him. “How long?”

Daniela rolled her eyes. “Does it matter? You and I both know this marriage was over long ago.”

He took a step forward. “I gave you everything, Daniela. My time. My career. My”

“Your career?” she cut in with a sharp laugh. “Please. My father gave you everything you have. You’d still be working at that pathetic start-up if it weren’t for us.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “No. I’d still have myself.”

Silence fell, heavy and raw. Daniela stood, confidence unshaken. “Let’s not make this dramatic. We’ll talk to the lawyers, sort things out. You’ll get something to live on.”

Jake stared at her for a long, hollow moment. Then he nodded slowly. “No,” he said. “Keep it all. I don’t want your money. I don’t want your name.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jake.”

He turned to leave. “You just made sure I’m done being ridiculous.”

“Wait!” she called as he reached the door. “Where will you go?”

Jake paused without turning back. His voice was quiet, almost broken. “Somewhere you’ll never find me.”

And he was gone. Later that night…

Rain hammered the streets as Jake walked aimlessly through the city. No destination, no umbrella, just the weight of betrayal pressing on his chest.

He stopped at a crossing, eyes unfocused, the sound of cars fading under the roar in his head. His phone buzzed, unknown number. He almost ignored it, but something made him answer.

“Jake Foreman?” The voice was older, commanding. “This is Lawrence Foreman. I believe it’s time we spoke, son.”

Jake froze. That name, Foreman. The name he’d buried years ago.