Regret's Late Arrival: When Apologies Come Too Late

Emma and I were a famously loving couple, known far and wide.

Even our elders often teased us, saying we were the spokespersons for Cupid.

But only I knew that after seven years of marriage, she was still kept herself pure for her first love.

When she finally agreed to give herself to me, I, having been reborn, chose to fulfill their wishes!

Let's see if they could handle this overwhelming happiness!

***

"Bernard, the thermos isn't keeping warm anymore. Go to the supermarket and buy a new one."

I had just taken off my apron, ready to eat with Emma, when she impatiently ordered me around again.

"It can wait until after we eat. I'll go buy it then."

Before I could bring the food to my mouth, Emma hit my hand with her chopsticks.

"I haven't packed the food yet! You've already slobbered all over it; how am I supposed to deliver it now?"

I froze mid-action.

"Deliver? Who are you delivering it to?"

Realizing her slip, Emma quickly corrected herself.

"I misspoke! Just go buy it already."

I walked halfway and then turned back.

"If you're going to complain, then don't eat it!"

Looking at the table full of dishes I had painstakingly prepared, for the first time, I felt a surge of rebellion.

As I passed by Emma, a faint smell of medicinal ointment wafted to my nose.

Along with it came memories from my past life.

I was all too familiar with that scent.

It was unique to Kellen, her first love.

If my guess was correct, she had visited him at the orthopedic hospital today; otherwise, she should have smelled like disinfectant.

Seeing me dare to drop everything, Emma got angry too.

"I worked a night shift and was exhausted all night! The ER was like a battlefield, and just as I was about to leave, I was pulled back to cover another shift. Can't you show me a little sympathy?"

I took a few bites of food under her angry glare before speaking.

"Where did you go today? Should I ask your head nurse?"

Emma was a nurse, and I was a doctor, but we didn't work at the same hospital.

Perhaps feeling guilty, Emma didn't answer directly.

"I just went to the orthopedic hospital. What does that have to do with you buying a thermos? Why are you acting like you're checking up on me?"

After saying that, she slammed her chopsticks on the table.

"Go if you want to, or I'll go myself!"

I digested the memories without exposing that she was planning to deliver food to Kellen.

I couldn't even count how many arguments we had in our past life over her delivering food to Kellen.

The meals I painstakingly prepared after work were always secretly sent to him. Later, when I discovered this, she didn't even bother hiding it.

She was the belle of the Central Hospital, with a figure that always made my male colleagues wink and nudge me, saying I had married a treasure.

Everyone knew about the flings at the nurse's station.

But I steadfastly defended Emma because she would always stop me just short of getting any further.

With no emotional foundation to build on, I didn't know how to make progress in our relationship.

Having married her, I saw her every day but couldn't get close. Frustrated, I sought help online.

A netizen suggested that the way to a person's heart was through their stomach.

So I started making elaborate meals for her, hoping to win her over. Later, she asked me to make extra, saying her fellow nurses loved my cooking and she wanted to share it with them.

Finally, when my cooking was appreciated, I put in even more effort, trying to satisfy her appetite and vanity.

But in the end, I was just a clown.

Because of the friendship between our families and my male pride, I never dared tell anyone that I had only slept with her once in all these years.

No one would believe it, and it would only make me a laughingstock.

The woman I willingly married, I treated like a goddess.

And I had been doing that for seven years.

I slowly ate the food, and when Emma returned and saw I had touched the dishes, she was furious.

"Did l tell you not to eat yet?"

I curled my lips and calmly said.

"I made this food, so I'll eat it however I want. If you don't want to eat, then forget it."

Did she really think I would continue to pamper her?

"You!"

After eating my fill, I put down my chopsticks and asked.

"Are you going to eat or not? If not, I'll throw it away."

This meal, from buying the ingredients to cooking, took a full two hours, and it was all her favorite complex dishes.

Following the memories of my past life, I realized that whenever she requested these particular dishes, it was always to deliver food to Kellen.

Because steak was Kellen's favorite!

Just thinking about it made me despise my own intelligence.

The hands that were meant to save lives had been reduced to making soup for my romantic rival.

Ridiculous!