HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 178

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

**Chapter 178**

The moment Daven’s words sliced through the air, a profound silence enveloped the room, leaving nearly half the reporters momentarily stunned. Their eyes darted around, exchanging glances that spoke volumes; it was as if they were grappling with the weight of his declaration, too staggering to be accepted at face value.

“Are you… serious?” one reporter finally broke the stillness, his voice trembling slightly as he continued to broadcast live from the front steps of Callister Group’s headquarters.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Daven replied, his calm smile contrasting sharply with the tension in the air. “I have no intention of retracting what I just said.”

In an instant, the press erupted like a swarm of angry bees, their voices clashing in a cacophony of questions. Cameras zoomed in with relentless precision, and microphones jostled for position, each journalist eager to extract more from him.

“Does this mean your marriage is officially over?” one voice shouted above the rest.

“Mr. Callister, what is the primary reason for your divorce from Vanessa?” another pressed, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Is this related to Althea?” a third queried, the urgency in their tone palpable.

“Does this have anything to do with Miss Vanessa’s affair?” came yet another question, sharp and probing.

“How long have you been aware of her actions?” someone else added, desperate for a glimpse behind the curtain of Daven’s stoic facade.

Daven cast a fleeting glance at the throng of reporters. His eyes were sharp, cutting through the clamor, but behind that steely exterior lay an undeniable weariness that he could not mask. He chose silence, raising a hand briefly in a gesture of dismissal before turning away, leaving the chaos to swell in his wake. The unanswered questions clung to the air like smoke, heavy and suffocating. What he had done today was enough. As for the rest…

The reporters scrambled after him, their determination unyielding. They were like hounds on a scent, unwilling to let him escape without one final soundbite—something that would elevate their headlines to the next level. But Callister Group’s lawyers and public relations team quickly formed a protective barrier, effectively blocking their advance. One spokesperson stepped forward, exuding authority.

“All inquiries will be managed through the appropriate channels. Mr. Callister will not be making any additional statements at this time.”

“Then can we at least get the most critical answer?” a reporter pressed, his voice tinged with frustration.

The PR staffer regarded him with confusion. Hadn’t Daven Callister already provided the answer they were all so fervently pursuing?

“Is this divorce petition based on Miss Vanessa’s affair?”

Jesus! Wasn’t that painfully obvious? But of course, reporters had their own motives behind such questions—especially with the live broadcast still rolling and Daven’s statement requiring airtight validation.

“Excuse me, if I may interject,” one of the lawyers finally spoke up, his tone measured and rehearsed. “In response to the previous question, allow me to clarify. As legal counsel for Mr. Daven Callister, I can confirm that our client filed for divorce based on his wife’s actions—in this case, Miss Vanessa Blake. Her repeated betrayals and her failure to uphold the Callister family’s reputation have necessitated this course of action. I believe that explanation suffices for now.”

Daven slowly opened his eyes, his gaze distant. He lingered on the cup for only a fleeting moment before shifting his focus to the expansive glass window that framed the room. Beyond the clear pane, the vibrant city of Mighatan sprawled out before him—alive, dynamic, pulsing with life.

Yet to Daven, it all felt achingly foreign. It was as if he stood alone in the center of a world that refused to pause, while he remained trapped in a quagmire of his own making, burdened by a weight that only grew heavier with each passing moment.

“Arsen,” Daven called, his voice low and strained. So soft that Arsen had to step closer to catch his words.

“Yes, sir?”

Daven hesitated, the silence stretching between them as he weighed whether to allow his emotions to spill forth. But at this moment, the only person he trusted was the man who had stood by his side through thick and thin. Arsen understood every step Daven was bound to take, every decision that loomed heavy in his mind.

“You know how difficult it was to hold myself back out there?” Daven finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Arsen let out a quiet breath, already sensing the direction of the conversation. “Yes, Mr. Daven. I could feel it.”

“I wanted to…” Daven’s voice faltered, and he pressed a hand over his face, attempting to shield the raw emotions that threatened to break free. “I wanted so desperately to tell the world that Josh is my son. That he is my flesh and blood. But I can’t.”

His words trembled, each syllable laced with grief and a yearning so profound it cut deep into the very fabric of his being.