HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 589

“Even so, she needed to know,” Althea said firmly. “It would’ve been worse if she found out from someone else and started making her own assumptions.”

Riana nodded in agreement.

“Where are Josh and Grace?” Althea asked, glancing around. Usually the two of them continued studying in this room.

“Grace is outside in the garden,” Riana replied. “Gia is with her while she finishes her assignment. As for Josh… I suspect he’s still wrestling with his physics book.”

Althea let out a soft chuckle. “I’ve asked the staff to make some porridge for Eli. I’m worried she might come down with a fever from the shock.”

Riana looked at her with concern. “How is she now?”

“She’s asleep,” Althea said. “Completely exhausted.”

Riana reached out and squeezed her daughter-in-law’s hand. “Thank you for staying with her.”

Althea gave a faint smile, though her heart still felt heavy. “She’s just an innocent child who wants to belong to a whole family.”

Their conversation drifted from Eli to Daven’s workload, then to Josh and Grace’s schooling plans. Eventually, Riana decided to rest and gently insisted that Althea do the same. Althea had been on her feet all morning, and Riana was clearly worried about her pregnancy.

Althea didn’t argue. She was tired, too.

A short while later, she returned to her bedroom to retrieve her phone. The screen lit up with dozens of messages—most of them from Daven. She sat on the edge of the bed and opened them one by one, a small, guilty smile tugging at her lips.

Darling, are you ready?

I’m waiting at La Gala.

Are you okay?

Althea, answer me.

Her chest tightened with guilt. She quickly pressed the call button.

The phone was answered almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for it.

“Althea?” His voice sounded tense. “Where are you? Why haven’t you been answering?”

“I’m at home,” she replied softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” His tone shifted at once—not angry, but worried.

“I haven’t even gotten ready. And it’s already past lunchtime.” She lowered her gaze, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I broke my promise.”

There was a long exhale on the other end.

“I don’t care about lunch,” Daven said finally. “I was worried because you weren’t answering my calls.”

Althea fell silent.

“Did something happen?”

“Yes,” she answered honestly.

Then she told him everything. About Eli almost leaving. About the half-packed suitcase. About the words I’m nobody that kept echoing in her mind.

Daven didn’t interrupt. As always, he listened—calm, focused, fully present.

“I managed to calm her down,” Althea continued softly. “She eventually fell asleep. But my heart still feels heavy.”

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

“I’m lucky to have you,” Daven said at last, his voice lower now.

Althea frowned slightly. “Why would you say that?”

“Because not everyone has a heart that big. After everything that happened, you still chose to hold her.”

Althea smiled faintly. “She’s just a child who lost her footing.”

“And you gave her ground to stand on,” Daven replied gently.

“Ten minutes,” he continued. “Or an hour. We’ll have tea, sit together, and I can see your face. Not just hear your voice.”

He wasn’t demanding. If anything, he sounded like he was quietly asking.

“I want to see for myself that you’re really okay,” he added softly.

Althea smiled—this time wider. “You sound like an impatient child.”

“I am,” Daven replied without the slightest embarrassment. “I just want to be with my wife.”

She went quiet for a few seconds, weighing her exhaustion against the warmth in his voice.

“Alright,” she said at last, softly.

“Really?”

“Yes. But not for long.”

“That’s fine.” Relief was unmistakable in his tone. “I’ll send the driver now.”

Althea shook her head with a small smile. “You’re unbelievably stubborn.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

When the call ended, Althea stared at her reflection in the mirror. She did look tired—her eyes a little swollen, her shoulders slightly slumped. But there was something lighter in her chest now.

The day had been heavy. Yet hearing her husband’s voice—bright, eager, wanting nothing more than to sit beside her—felt like a pause she didn’t realize she needed.

She walked toward her wardrobe and slid the doors open, her gaze drifting over rows of dresses.

“What should I wear?” she murmured to herself, fingers brushing softly against the fabric as if each choice held a different mood.

Something simple. Something comfortable. Something that would let her feel like herself again—even just for an hour.