HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 592

“Eli.”

Daven looked slightly surprised.

“She said Josh and Grace are very lucky to have parents like us.”

A small smile appeared on Daven’s face. “She’s right,” he said softly. “Especially you—as their mother.”

Althea raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’s a bit exaggerated?”

“No.” Daven leaned slightly forward and brushed his fingers gently along her cheek, which had turned faintly pink. “If it weren’t for you, she probably would’ve left today.”

Althea didn’t respond right away. Instead, she simply allowed herself to feel the warmth of his touch. Her eyes slipped closed for a moment, the quiet gesture calming her in a way she hadn’t expected.

“She’s still just a child,” Althea said when she opened her eyes again. “Fourteen years old, and her entire life was built on lies.”

Daven watched his wife with a gaze full of tenderness. “We’ll make sure she doesn’t lose her way,” he said quietly.

Althea nodded in agreement.

“We decided that from the beginning—Eli would stay under our protection,” Daven continued. “I haven’t discussed the details yet, though. Whether she’ll live with Mr. Miller or eventually move in with us.” He paused, studying her expression. “What do you think would be best?”

“I’ll talk to Mom about it. When I told her everything about Eli earlier… she looked shocked.”

Daven simply nodded.

“You know,” Althea added, “Josh actually wanted to ask her about physics during lunch today.”

Daven chuckled softly. “I looked over Eli’s school records. Her grades are all above average.” He lifted his shoulders lightly. “Which means she’s a smart girl.”

“And your decision to move her to a different school makes perfect sense,” Althea said. “What she’s about to face won’t be easy. She needs to grow up in an environment that focuses on a child’s abilities and achievements.”

Not long after, their order arrived.

A waiter approached with a large tray, moving carefully before arranging the dishes one by one on their table beside the window. A gentle warmth rose into the air as the aromas spread between them.

In front of Althea, the waiter placed a bowl of soupe de légumes—a traditional French vegetable soup with a clear, fragrant broth. Small pieces of carrot, baby potatoes, celery, and leeks floated softly inside, simmered slowly until their natural flavors blended into something comforting and delicate.

“This soup is made without cream, ma’am,” the waiter explained politely. “It’s lighter and better suited for you.”

Althea nodded in gratitude.

Beside the soup sat a plate of warm ratatouille, the roasted vegetables arranged beautifully—zucchini, eggplant, red peppers, and tomatoes cooked with olive oil and a hint of thyme. The colors were bright and inviting, like a small taste of southern France placed right on their table.

For the main course, the waiter set down a plate of saumon grillé—a grilled salmon fillet with a golden crust. It was served alongside tender asparagus and small roasted potatoes brushed with butter and rosemary.

“Fresh salmon today,” the waiter added briefly before stepping away.

At the side of the table, a small basket of warm pain de campagne—rustic French country bread—rested beside a dish of soft butter.

Daven examined the dishes for a moment before gently sliding the bowl of soup a little closer to Althea.

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