HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 44

**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**
**Chapter 44**

“Mr. Daven,” Arsen’s voice sliced through the heavy silence that enveloped the office. “Your meeting with Mitranesia is set to begin in just ten minutes. I’ve compiled all the necessary materials for you. Have you had a chance to review them?”

Daven raised his head slowly, his gaze flitting to Arsen for a brief moment before he shook it dismissively. “Just take care of it, Arsen.”

A frown creased Arsen’s forehead as he processed the unexpected response. “Pardon? What did you say?” He quickly caught himself, sensing that something was off. For the first time since he had begun working for Daven Callister—who was known for his discipline, relentless drive, and obsession with details—his boss seemed utterly… unfocused. No, this was not a singular occurrence; it had been happening with increasing frequency, and Arsen felt a growing unease as he tried to make sense of it all.

Daven Callister was not a man who lost his focus so easily. He didn’t delegate meetings like this. He never appeared to be so… adrift.

Yet, despite his concerns, Arsen lacked the courage to press him further.

“But sir, this meeting is crucial. You never—”

“I said, handle it,” Daven interrupted, his tone low but resolute, his eyes drifting away from Arsen’s gaze.

A thick silence descended upon the room, heavy and suffocating, as if the air itself had thickened with unspoken tension.

There was something in Daven’s eyes—a disruption, a cloudiness that was unsettling. Arsen understood better than to pry any further, so he nodded reluctantly and turned to leave. But just as he reached the door, an inexplicable urge compelled him to make one last attempt.

If it meant facing Daven’s ire, so be it.

“If I may ask,” Arsen ventured cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper, “is everything alright?”

Daven snapped the folder shut, his jaw tightening as he locked his gaze onto Arsen’s, sharp and unyielding. But then, as if a wave of exhaustion washed over him, he released a long, weary breath and pressed his fingers against his temple.

“No,” he replied flatly, the word laced with finality. “Just get back to work.”

Arsen nodded and exited quietly, though it was evident—something was deeply amiss.

Because Daven’s mind was ensnared by memories of that day.

The day Althea had walked out of the Callister house for good.

In theory, it should have brought him relief. He had been anticipating this moment, wishing for it to arrive. Althea was no longer a part of the Callister family; she had become just another stranger, much like she had been before the accident that had forced their marriage. Now, he could finally pursue a life with Vanessa Blake, the woman who truly held his heart.

So, then why did he feel this gnawing sense of unease?

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, leaning back in his chair, his eyes squeezed shut as if blocking out the world. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

He attempted to shake off the memory—Althea’s cold, unyielding stare, the way she had walked away without a flicker of emotion on her face. Work provided a temporary distraction, but the fleeting peace never lasted long enough to quell the storm inside him.

Eventually, he found himself opening the drawer of his desk. And there it lay, waiting for him.

The brown envelope.

The emblem of the Civil Registry stamped meticulously on its surface. Inside, the divorce papers awaited him—the official severance of ties between him and Althea. The very existence of those documents felt like a taunt, a reminder of choices made and paths taken.

And just like that, her voice echoed in his mind again.

“Process the divorce as soon as you can, Daven. Send it to Lydia’s address. I’m sure you won’t delay too long, right?”

Daven stared at the envelope for what felt like an eternity before finally extracting its contents. Everything was laid out with meticulous precision. Even the division of Althea’s share of assets had been outlined in detail, as if to make the process as straightforward as possible.

All he had to do was sign. It should have been a simple task. This was what he had wanted. The wedding of his dreams with Vanessa was merely days away. He should have been ecstatic. Overjoyed, even.

So why did it feel as though something deep within him was unraveling?

But why did he sense a tightening in his chest, as if an invisible force was constricting his breath? Daven lowered his head in frustration, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the desk when suddenly, the door creaked open.

“Excuse me, Mr. Daven,” Arsen announced, his tone cautious. “There’s a guest who insists on seeing you.”

“I’m afraid… I can’t guarantee her presence.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Yoshida’s brow furrowed with concern. “Is something the matter?”

Daven felt a flicker of vulnerability escape him, and the older woman quickly softened her tone, sensing the tension.

“I apologize,” she said gently. “Perhaps I’ve overstepped.”

“Not at all,” Daven replied, forcing a calm demeanor that felt like a mask.

“I merely wanted to express how fortunate you are to have someone like Althea by your side. Even my husband remarked on it.”

Daven swallowed hard, her words landing like a heavy stone in his chest.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he finally managed, his voice tight with unspoken emotions. “I’ll be sure to pass it along to her.”

As Mrs. Yoshida gracefully rose from her seat, she added, “Please extend our warmest regards to her.”

Once the elegant woman departed, Daven sank back into his chair, his gaze drifting into nothingness.

How fortunate you are to have a woman like Althea by your side.

The words echoed relentlessly in his mind, a haunting refrain that refused to fade.

On his desk, the blue silk envelope containing the dinner invitation lay untouched—a silent yet taunting reminder of what he could no longer claim.

And in the stillness of that moment, one question rose above the cacophony in his mind, louder than reason, sharper than pride.

Where are you now, Althea?