HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 104

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

**Chapter 104**

“How long do you think it’s been going on?” he finally broke the silence, his voice barely escaping his lips, almost as if he feared the answer.

“I don’t know, Mr. Daven,” she replied, her tone laced with uncertainty.

“Was I really so distant that she felt the need to seek warmth in another man’s embrace?” Daven’s bitter chuckle echoed in the confined space of the car, but it quickly morphed into a grimace that spoke of deep-seated pain. The weight of frustration bore down on his chest like an iron shroud. “God… I treated her just as she treated me.”

The air hung thick with unspoken words, broken only by the soft hum of the car’s speakers, where low music played a melancholic tune that seemed to mirror his turmoil.

“What am I supposed to do with her, Arsen?” he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

The question hung in the air, a heavy stone that Arsen felt ill-equipped to lift. What could he possibly say to alleviate the burden that Daven carried?

Everything felt overwhelming. Vanessa—cherished by Daven, always at the forefront of his thoughts, admired even by those who envied their seemingly perfect union—had tossed it all away like a discarded piece of paper.

And what had Daven received in return for his devotion?

“I don’t know, Mr. Daven,” Arsen replied softly, his voice barely a whisper.

“My wife really knows how to play her part,” Daven muttered, a bitter smile curling his lips. “Should I keep pretending to be the indifferent husband? Or… what if I mirrored her actions?”

***

As the car finally glided to a stop outside the luxurious apartment Daven had taken refuge in during his stay in SunCity, he found himself hesitating. Instead of retreating to the solitude of his room, he stepped out onto the balcony, yearning for the shimmering city lights to offer him a brief respite from the tempest raging within. In one hand, he cradled a glass of wine he had poured from the minibar, while the other held a cigar—an indulgence he hadn’t allowed himself in ages.

The smoke spiraled slowly into the cool night air, merging with the gentle breeze that swept through, carrying with it the chill of the SunCity nights that could seep into one’s bones.

“When was the last time I allowed myself to enjoy this?” he pondered aloud, his voice barely a murmur against the backdrop of the city’s distant sounds.

He took a deliberate sip, the sharpness of the wine cascading down his throat, momentarily easing the tightness that had gripped his chest. Of all the chaos that had erupted in his life, the turbulence surrounding his relationship with Vanessa sat firmly at the pinnacle of his concerns. She was the one constant he couldn’t shake off, the singular thought that invaded his clarity and left him fragmented.

If he were to return home now and confront her with all the evidence he had gathered, he had no doubt she would twist it all back onto him. That was the nature of their dynamic. What more could she possibly desire from him? He had given Vanessa everything—his unwavering support, his encouragement of her career, the lavish lifestyle she enjoyed long before she became the celebrated star everyone adored today.

But perhaps he had overlooked her needs. After all, it was Vanessa who frequently claimed to be too busy to be disturbed. Maybe this was the fissure in their marriage, the very gap through which she had slipped away.

It had been ages since he had called her at night. When was the last time? The memory eluded him, slipping through his fingers like sand. For the past two years, their communication—if one could even label it as such—had devolved into mere formalities. Business schedules, logistical discussions, obligatory appearances at social events. Nothing real. Nothing intimate.

But tonight felt different. A sense of urgency tugged at him—what would Vanessa do if he were to call her now? Would it confirm the gnawing unease that had settled in his gut?

“Can’t hurt to try,” he mused, a dry smirk playing on his lips. “Let’s see if my beloved wife has become accustomed to falling asleep in another man’s arms… or if she’s still waiting patiently for me to return home.”

The call rang three times before a voice broke through.

“What do you want?” Vanessa’s voice came through, rushed and breathless. He could hear the unmistakable sound of a muffled moan in the background. “I’m busy. Say it quickly.”

“Who’s calling you?” came a clear voice from afar—James.

“Hold on a second, James. Can you not push so deep? Just… let me go for a bit. David wants to talk. I think he—”

With a surge of anger, Daven ended the call.

“Damn it,” he muttered through clenched teeth, frustration boiling over. “Why the hell did I have to hear her enjoying someone else’s hands on her?”