My One Regret

About This Audiobook

Claudia Burgoa’s *My One Regret* isn’t your typical backstage-pass romance—it’s a grittier, more introspective take on fame, fatherhood, and the cost of love. The story hinges on a painfully relatable premise: what happens when a fleeting connection with a rock legend (who’s also a devoted single dad) forces you to confront your own boundaries? Burgoa excels at writing messy, flawed characters whose chemistry feels earned, not manufactured. The dual narration by Stephen Dexter and Stephanie Nemeth-Parker amplifies this tension—Dexter’s gravelly, weary delivery as the jaded rockstar contrasts sharply with Nemeth-Parker’s brighter, more vulnerable tone, making their emotional push-pull visceral.

What sets this apart from the sea of celebrity romances is its unflinching look at the *aftermath* of passion: the awkward texts, the unspoken resentments, and the way pride derails even the most intense connections. The audiobook’s production leans into this rawness, with minimal frills—no overdone sound effects or melodramatic pauses—just two narrators who *get* the quiet devastation of a love that almost worked. If you’re tired of fairy-tale HEAs and crave a romance that lingers on the *regret* as much as the romance, this one’s for you."

"review": "I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at first—*another* rockstar romance? But *My One Regret* hooked me within chapters, largely thanks to its refusal to glamourize fame or love. The story’s strength lies in its dual-POV structure, and the narrators sell it brilliantly. Stephen Dexter’s performance as the rockstar dad is a masterclass in restrained emotion; he doesn’t *act* like a celebrity, he *sounds* like a man exhausted by his own legend, his voice rough around the edges when he’s defensive, softening only in rare moments of honesty. Stephanie Nemeth-Parker, meanwhile, nails the protagonist’s mix of defiance and self-doubt, especially in scenes where she’s talking herself *out* of her feelings. Their chemistry in dialogue is electric, but it’s the solo chapters—where you hear their private spiral—that make this audiobook addictive.

That said, the pacing stumbles in the middle. Burgoa’s decision to drag out the ‘we need to talk’ text fallout feels *too* realistic—almost punishingly so—and some listeners might chafe at the repetitive cycle of miscommunication. The production is otherwise clean, though I wished for slightly more distinction in secondary characters’ voices (a few side characters blend together). Still, the ending lands with a gut-punch authenticity rare in romance. This isn’t a book about grand gestures; it’s about the quiet moments where you realize love isn’t enough—and sometimes, that’s the most romantic truth of all. **Best for:** Fans of angsty, low-drama romances with emotional weight, or anyone who’s ever loved someone they *shouldn’t*."

"tags": [
"rockstar romance audiobook