HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 101

**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**
**Chapter 101**

“Chase,” Althea called out softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

They paused just outside the restaurant’s entrance, where a gentle melody wafted through the air, hinting at the warmth and comfort that awaited them inside. Josh stood between them, his small fingers fiddling with the slightly wrinkled fabric of his shirt, a sign of his own nervousness. He had refrained from asking about Daven again, perhaps sensing the tension that hung in the air. Instead, his gaze was drawn to the sparkling crystal lights that adorned the entrance, their reflections dancing in his wide eyes, providing him with a temporary distraction.

“Yes?” Chase turned to Althea, concern etched across his handsome face, his brow furrowing slightly. “What’s troubling you?”

“Mommy? What is it?” Josh’s voice rose in alarm, his innocent worry piercing through the moment. “Are you sick?”

Althea quickly shook her head, forcing a small, reassuring smile that she hoped would ease his fears. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” she replied, brushing her fingers gently over Josh’s tousled hair, trying to convey calmness. But her eyes remained locked on Chase’s, a silent plea for understanding and support.

“I… I just need a moment before we meet your family. Just a short one,” Althea confessed, her voice trembling slightly. “The encounter earlier really threw me off balance. I’m afraid… I might not be able to present my best self in front of your family if I go in like this.”

Chase studied her intently, his gaze piercing yet tender. After a moment, he nodded gently, his expression softening. “You don’t have to push yourself, Althea. It’s okay,” he said, reaching out to take her hand, holding it firmly—his silent way of offering support. “Take your time. Josh and I will wait right here.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, her smile transforming into something genuine. Chase’s kindness was like a balm to her weary soul—so gentle that it ached. How could a man like him harbor such deep love for someone like her? If tonight’s dinner with his family went well, Althea promised herself she would make the effort. Slowly, she would learn to love him back with the same intensity and devotion. Even if it took years, she would be willing to wait.

With a determined heart, she stepped into the restroom to gather her thoughts and compose herself. Just a brief moment—enough to splash cool water on her face and meet her own gaze in the mirror. She needed to wash away the haunting memories of her past, particularly those tied to Daven.

“Daven is the past. He’s not coming back to ruin you again. You’ve both chosen your own paths. So… don’t let them cross again,” Althea told herself firmly, her reflection staring back with a mix of resolve and fear.

She stood there for a few moments, allowing the cool water to trickle down her face, feeling it dry naturally against her skin. Perhaps the chill would help soothe the chaos swirling in her mind. She couldn’t afford to lose control, not tonight, not when so much was at stake.

Once she felt steadied enough, Althea took a deep breath and returned to Chase, her steps steady and deliberate. He remained exactly where she had left him, just outside the restaurant, waiting patiently.

Standing by Chase’s side, Althea inhaled deeply, acutely aware of the weight of every gaze that fell upon her—not just passing glances, but thorough examinations, as if they were assessing her from every conceivable angle. They appeared polite, but there was a formality to their demeanor, a distinct boundary they seemed hesitant to cross. The atmosphere felt… stiff, almost suffocating.

Althea could feel it in her bones, a familiar sensation that echoed back to the first time she had introduced herself to the Callister family. God, why did this feel so hauntingly familiar?

“Mom, Dad,” Chase began, his voice steady, “this is Althea Grayson and her son, Joshua Grayson.”

“Good evening,” Althea greeted warmly, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness as she offered a slight bow—a gesture of respect she hoped would resonate with them.

“Yes, good evening,” murmured the middle-aged woman, whom Althea assumed to be Chase’s mother. She offered a small nod, her smile barely reaching her eyes, which avoided meeting Althea’s gaze. There was a coolness to her demeanor, an unmistakable air of disinterest that sent a shiver down Althea’s spine.

Beside her, the man studied Althea for a moment longer than necessary before speaking. “Please, have a seat, Miss Grayson,” he said, gesturing toward the chairs across from them, his tone formal yet slightly more inviting.