HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 88

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

**Chapter 88**

“Mrs. Vanessa has already arrived at Sky Dining,” Arsen announced, casting a quick glance into the rearview mirror. He caught sight of Daven, who was settled quietly in the back seat, his demeanor composed but his thoughts a turbulent sea beneath the surface.

The car glided smoothly through the bustling city center, the evening lights casting a warm, golden glow over the streets. Yet, the serene exterior of the city belied the storm brewing within Daven.

If he were to be honest with himself, he had no desire to be part of this evening’s proceedings.

This gathering was not one he could simply skip—this was not about rekindling a relationship that had long since lost its spark. No, it was a matter of duty, stripped of any romantic pretense. A gala dinner to celebrate the success of Vanessa’s latest film, which had been soaring up the charts and turning her into the darling of the media. As her husband, Daven was expected to play his part, to don his most charming smile, to stand proudly by her side, and to perpetuate the facade of a perfect marriage.

If it weren’t for the relentless pressure to maintain appearances, he would have much preferred to be at his desk, immersed in the meticulous plans for Frankfurt. Even the Osaka project, though it didn’t demand his full attention, was something he would rather oversee personally. Perhaps he would make a trip there once a few other projects stabilized.

What a pity it was that of all the places he could be, he was headed to the one that filled him with the least enthusiasm.

“How long is this event supposed to last?” he finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

“About two hours, Mr. Daven. That includes the interview session and dinner with the invited guests,” Arsen replied, his tone crisp and professional. He was acutely aware of Daven’s discomfort in such social settings, but as his loyal assistant, his sole responsibility was to ensure that everything ran smoothly.

“As soon as the main session concludes, I want to leave. Make sure the press only gets their shots at the red carpet,” Daven instructed flatly, his gaze fixed intently on the world outside the window, where the city lights blurred into a tapestry of colors.

“Understood, sir,” Arsen replied without hesitation. Just then, his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a new message. He felt a sense of urgency to relay the information, ensuring Daven was kept in the loop.

“I just received a message from James,” Arsen said, his attention momentarily diverted to the screen. “Mrs. Vanessa would like to have a private dinner with you.”

Daven remained silent, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

Daven turned his head slightly, casting her a blank look, yet he didn’t pull away. He allowed her to cling to him as they stepped into the spotlight, where the media’s flashes erupted like fireworks. Blinding lights surrounded them, dozens of eyes scrutinizing their every move.

He forced a thin smile, an expression practiced to perfection. To maintain the illusion, he wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer in a gesture that seemed effortless, even tender.

“Mrs. Vanessa!” one reporter called out, halting their progress. “We’re from News Media—could we get a quick word before you head into the reception?”

Vanessa responded with a gracious smile, her poise unwavering. “Good evening,” she said warmly into the microphone, her voice smooth like silk. “Thank you for being here to support our film. I’m genuinely thrilled by all your excitement. We couldn’t have achieved this without the dedication and brilliance of everyone involved in the production.”

Then, she turned to Daven, her gaze softening—at least on the surface. “And of course, my husband,” she added, her eyes lingering on him with a look that screamed devotion. “Thank you for taking the time to be here with me. It means so much not to be alone on a night like this.”

Daven’s smile remained firmly in place, though it didn’t broaden. He offered a brief nod, allowing her to steer this performance, as she always did. For in Daven’s world, he had learned a harsh truth: love did not hold marriages together—reputation did.

The camera flashes continued unabated. One question followed another, microphones stretching toward them from every direction. And amidst the chaos, Daven and Vanessa stood side by side, enveloped in the dazzling glare of the spotlight, each flash capturing not just their image, but the intricate dance of their carefully crafted lives.