
Your Regret Is Beneath My Feet
Piper Hayes · Completed · 6.0k Words
Introduction
Lily was only seven. She was terrified of the dark, terrified of pain. She never got that heart. She just faded, right there in that hospital bed.
And Damien was down the hall, celebrating someone else's miracle.
He had no idea what I was holding when he finally came home. He had no idea my stomach cancer had already hit the final stage.
There was nothing left in this world worth staying for.
So this time, I didn't yell. I didn't cry.
I just slid the divorce papers across the table.
He thought I was bluffing.
But this time, I had nothing left to lose.
Chapter 1
Vivian's POV
I loved Damien for ten years. Ten years, right up until the moment he took the heart that was supposed to save our daughter and gave it to someone else's child.
Lily was only seven. She was terrified of the dark, terrified of pain. She never got that heart. She just faded, right there in that hospital bed.
And Damien was down the hall, celebrating someone else's miracle.
He had no idea what I was holding when he finally came home. He had no idea my stomach cancer had already hit the final stage.
There was nothing left in this world worth staying for.
So this time, I didn't yell. I didn't cry.
I just slid the divorce papers across the table.
He thought I was bluffing.
But this time, I had nothing left to lose.
"Vivian, are you out of your mind? Sitting here in the dark at this hour?"
It's two in the morning when Damien finally walks through the door. He hits the light switch, takes one look at me, and his face tightens with the kind of irritation he doesn't even try to hide anymore.
I'm sitting on the couch, holding a white urn against my chest.
"I pulled two surgeries today. I'm wiped out. The last thing I need is to come home to this."
I hold the urn a little tighter.
It's cold. But what's inside it is the only thing I ever truly fought for.
My Lily. Seven years old. Scared of the dark, scared of pain. And now she's in this little box, cold and still.
Damien sets a pink bakery box on the kitchen counter. It's from that French bakery downtown, the one Lily begged him to take her to for a solid month. He always said too much sugar was bad for kids.
The ribbon on this one reads: "Get well soon, Skylar."
"Still giving me the silent treatment?" He crosses his arms. "I already told you. Skylar's condition was more critical. She needed that heart more. And I was told there'd be another donor for Lily."
He glances around the room. "Where is she, anyway? Why isn't she here?"
"Lily's gone."
I look up at him. "You killed her."
He stares at me for a moment, then lets out a short, sharp laugh.
"Are you serious right now? Lily is fine. You're really gonna use our own daughter like that? Just to guilt me?"
If I had the energy, I might actually laugh.
God, how pathetic.
He genuinely believes Lily's surgery went fine. That she's somewhere out there, alive and recovering.
He doesn't know she went into acute heart failure that night. That by the time anyone realized what was happening, there was no donor, no time, no chance at all. That little heart just stopped.
He never once asked why I'd gone quiet for three days straight.
And he has no idea what's inside this urn.
"Vivian, I'm warning you. That's enough." Damien takes a slow breath, trying to keep himself in check. "Lily has me. What does Bryony have? She's a single mom raising a sick kid on her own. And you're out here acting like this over a child who almost died. You think that's not selfish?"
Selfish.
Hearing that word come out of his mouth. Almost funny.
I look up at him. At this face I spent ten years loving. I don't recognize it anymore.
"Damien." My voice comes out steadier than I expect. "I want a divorce."
He blinks. He gives me this slow, mocking smile.
"A divorce. So that's your play now. You think throwing that word at me is gonna make me drop everything? You think I'm gonna stop caring about Bryony and her daughter because you said so? That's not how this works."
I reach under the couch cushion and pull out the papers I've had ready for weeks. I hold them out.
"I don't want anything. The condo, the accounts, all of it's yours. All you have to do is sign."
His eyes drop to the papers. Something flickers across his face. He wasn't expecting this.
Then the anger snaps back.
"Fine." He grabs the papers, yanks a pen from his pocket, scrawls his name without reading a single word, and throws them back at me.
"You want out that bad? There you go. Don't hold your breath waiting for me to come after you."
He's already heading for the door. "And don't even think about taking Lily. She's not going anywhere with you."
The door slams hard enough to rattle the walls.
Custody.
I look down at the urn and run my thumb slowly across its surface. Something pulls at the corner of my mouth. Not really a smile.
Damien, she's already gone. You just don't know it yet.
Neither of us gets to keep her.
The next morning, I pack what little I have. Nothing that was ever his. Just Lily's ashes. I hold her the whole way back to my parents' house.
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**
I hate girls like her.
Entitled.
Delicate.
And still—
Still.
The image of her standing in the doorway, clutching her cardigan tighter around her narrow shoulders, trying to smile through the awkwardness, won’t leave me.
Neither does the memory of Tyler. Leaving her here without a second thought.
I shouldn’t care.
I don’t care.
It’s not my problem if Tyler’s an idiot.
It’s not my business if some spoiled little princess has to walk home in the dark.
I’m not here to rescue anyone.
Especially not her.
Especially not someone like her.
She’s not my problem.
And I’ll make damn sure she never becomes one.
But when my eyes fell on her lips, I wanted her to be mine.












