HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Althea’s hands clenched the steering wheel, her knuckles pale as a tremor of fading bravery coursed through her fingers. The air inside the car felt suffocating, heavy and oppressive, as if it were pressing down on her chest, mocking the boldness she had just mustered.

“God… I must have looked completely insane,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. Leaning forward, she gently rested her forehead against the cool leather of the wheel, hoping the sting of shame might jolt her out of the daze enveloping her thoughts.

Her mind involuntarily replayed Daven’s face—the way his eyes had locked onto hers, sharp and unreadable. The memory was vivid, almost tangible, refusing to fade. She still couldn’t quite grasp what she had done: pulling him out of his office so suddenly, with a confidence she hadn’t even realized she possessed. It felt reckless, yet strangely empowering.

But then—

“Where exactly are you taking me?” Daven’s calm voice broke through her reverie, his eyes sharp and curious as the elevator doors slid shut and they began their descent.

Althea bit her lower lip, caught off guard. “I… didn’t really think that far ahead,” she admitted, feeling suddenly foolish.

Recognizing how absurd she sounded, she quickly released his hand. Oddly, when she did, a small flicker of emptiness stirred inside him, a strange void he couldn’t explain.

A tense silence settled between them as the elevator continued downward, broken only by the soft chime signaling their arrival at the ground floor.

“So, we’re just going to wander around?” Daven asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not exactly,” Althea replied softly, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I thought… maybe we could have lunch together. The meal I made for you earlier—”

“Le Mistral,” Daven interrupted smoothly. “We’ll eat there.”

She nodded without protest, falling into step behind him as he led the way toward the waiting car parked in the VIP area. The drive to the restaurant passed quickly, but neither spoke a word during the short journey. Althea sat quietly, unsure how to break the silence, yet inwardly relieved that, at the very least, he wasn’t angry. No biting remarks, no sharp words meant to put her back in her place. That alone was enough for her heart to settle.

—

They soon arrived at Le Mistral, a French restaurant that exuded understated elegance. The faint aroma of butter and thyme lingered in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of sheer white curtains swaying gently in the breeze from open windows. The delicate strains of piano music floated through the space like a tender sigh, wrapping around them in a quiet embrace.

Daven’s gaze lingered on her longer than expected. “You surprised me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Althea.” His voice dropped, becoming low and deliberate, each word heavy with unspoken warning. “You should know your place.”

That familiar chill—the cold dismissal in his tone—washed over her again, dragging her back to harsh reality. Of course. She should have known her limits. Where had all this hope come from, if not from her own foolishness?

Damn it. The pain was sharper—so much sharper—coming from Daven than from anyone else. Maybe… this was the moment to let go.

“Haven’t we already made our agreement clear?”

No. She wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet. Just one chance—that was all she needed. Time might be slipping through her fingers, but that didn’t mean she had to stop fighting. Not until the very end.