HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The grand hall of the Japanese Embassy buzzed with soft laughter and the delicate clinking of wine glasses as the couple made their entrance that evening. Above them, a magnificent crystal chandelier hung from the soaring ceiling, casting a warm, inviting glow across the polished marble floor. In one corner, a classical orchestra filled the space with a refined, elegant melody that seemed to float effortlessly through the air.

Daven, impeccably dressed in a sleek, tailored black Armani suit, immediately became the center of attention. A handful of colleagues and notable figures quickly approached him, offering firm handshakes and enthusiastic greetings.

“Mr. Callister! What a pleasant surprise to see you here,” said Mr. Edmund, one of Daven’s business associates, clapping him on the shoulder with genuine warmth.

“Mr. Edmund,” Daven acknowledged with a subtle nod, his voice calm and measured, accompanied by a faint, controlled smile.

From the moment they had stepped out of the car, Althea had sensed an unfamiliar tension in the atmosphere. Perhaps it was because this was her first time attending such a formal event alongside Daven. She couldn’t deny the flutter of nerves swirling in her stomach—especially now, as so many people approached him with ease and familiarity.

Standing close beside him, surrounded by a whirlwind of business chatter and polite laughter, Althea felt increasingly out of place. The conversations around her were thick with economic terms and merger discussions she barely grasped. Her only response was to clutch her small purse tightly, as if holding onto it would ground her somehow.

“And this must be your lovely wife?” a middle-aged woman asked with a warm, gracious smile.

Daven cast a brief, almost dismissive glance at Althea. “Yes. This is Althea,” he said shortly, leaving no space for her to add a word.

Althea returned a small, polite smile and nodded, but as the conversation quickly shifted back to a world that excluded her, she quietly stepped away. She gave Daven the space he seemed to demand, though deep inside, a painful sense of not belonging gnawed at her.

Slowly, she made her way to the open balcony that overlooked the embassy’s manicured garden. The night air was crisp and calming, though a faint chill pricked her skin. She inhaled deeply, trying to steady her pounding head—whether it was the cool air or the invisible weight of the evening’s tension, she couldn’t tell.

Settling onto a wrought-iron garden bench, Althea allowed herself a moment of quiet. But the sudden sound of hurried footsteps shattered the stillness. A heavy breath followed, accompanied by a tense, unmistakably angry presence.

“Althea.” Daven’s voice was rough, edged with coldness as always. “What are you doing out here?”

She turned her head toward him but quickly lowered her gaze, a flicker of fear crossing her face. “I… I just needed some fresh air,” she murmured.

“And your brilliant solution was to run off to the garden? In front of everyone?” Daven’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Do you realize people are watching you? Are you trying to embarrass me on purpose?”

Just then, a formally dressed staff member approached and leaned in to whisper something into Daven’s ear. After a brief nod, he turned back to Althea.

“We’re to meet the host. The Ambassador wishes to greet us personally.”

Althea stiffened. “Right now?”

“Yes. Come.” Daven extended his arm, the epitome of a perfect gentleman.

She hesitated for the briefest moment, then slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. Together, they walked beneath the shimmering glow of the crystal chandeliers, their footsteps drawing the curious gazes of everyone present.

“Everyone’s watching us,” Althea murmured quietly to herself.

Daven caught her words—and a faint, knowing smirk curved his lips.