Regret Is A Poison, My Love Is Dead

"Don't touch me." He shook off my hand, his eyes cold as ice. "Just thinking about sharing a bed with a calculating woman like you for three whole years makes my skin crawl."

Three days ago, he drove through a torrential storm just to buy me my favorite lavender-lemon cake, and ended up in a horrific car crash.

Now, his memory had rolled back to three years ago, right when we first got married and he absolutely despised me.

Holding his first love close, he crushed the wooden hairpin I had personally carved for him under his heel. "Trash belongs in the trash can."