HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 89

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

**Chapter 89**

“Welcome back, Mrs. Vanessa! How does it feel to return from Paris with such a prestigious award?” a voice rang out, bright and inquisitive amidst the throng of reporters.

Vanessa’s lips curved into her signature professional smile, a practiced gesture that spoke volumes. “Absolutely incredible,” she replied, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Paris taught me so many new things. The sponsors were incredibly supportive, and the guest list—well, it was full of surprises,” she added, her eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. “But none of that compares to what I truly gained.”

The press, a sea of eager faces and flashing cameras, stirred with anticipation, each journalist hungry for her next revelation.

“Oh, of course, none of this would have happened without the unwavering support of my husband,” she said warmly, her gaze drifting affectionately toward Daven.

Turning to him, she crafted a look of affection—one that had been meticulously honed over the years. Daven met her gaze with a faint smile, just enough to appease the cameras but not nearly enough to conceal the fatigue that lingered in his eyes. It was a weariness that spoke of unspoken burdens and silent struggles.

The rapid clicks of camera shutters echoed like a chorus, each photographer vying for that perfect shot—the one that would encapsulate the essence of the Callisters as the quintessential fairytale couple.

“Is it true that the diamond you’re wearing tonight was a gift from Mr. Callister?” another reporter inquired, gesturing toward the vivid red pendant that nestled at the base of Vanessa’s neck, its brilliance catching the light.

Vanessa’s smile deepened, taking on a playful, almost coy quality. She reached up, her fingers brushing the gleaming ruby gently. “Ah, I probably shouldn’t have worn it tonight, should I?” she teased, her tone light and airy. “But it’s far too lovely to keep hidden away in my jewelry box. I know my dear husband went through a lot of trouble to acquire this for me, and I want to honor that. He always knows how to make me feel special.”

In truth, Daven had no knowledge of the necklace’s origins; it had all been arranged by Arsen, a detail that lingered unspoken between them.

“You’re truly such a lucky wife,” one reporter remarked, her wide eyes filled with admiration.

“Absolutely,” another chimed in, “After nearly seven years of one of the most lavish weddings this city has seen, you both still act like newlyweds—so in love and inseparable. Honestly, we’re all a bit jealous. You two are so lucky to have each other.”

Vanessa’s smile widened, and she leaned a little closer into Daven’s arm, a gesture that felt both natural and rehearsed. He remained silent, yet his body language was cooperative—he knew the game they were playing for the cameras. As long as their public image remained intact, that was all that mattered.

They looked picture-perfect, as always. That was their job.

“Mr. Callister,” another journalist interjected, “you’ve been quite active lately. Several outlets reported seeing you at a charity event with the Japanese Embassy. Does this mean you’re taking a more involved role in social initiatives?”

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