HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 94

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

**Chapter 94**

“Home?” Daven’s brow arched in disbelief, the word hanging in the air like a challenge. “Which house are you asking me to return to, Vanessa?”

Vanessa felt a jolt of surprise shoot through her, momentarily frozen by the unexpected twist in Daven’s tone. It was as if he had flipped a switch, transforming the conversation into a battlefield.

“The house we’re meant to share, obviously,” she shot back, her voice a mix of frustration and urgency. “Our home. But you seem to prefer living anywhere but there.”

Daven nodded slowly, a look of resignation crossing his features, as if he had anticipated her response all along.

“Then why would I want to go back to a place that’s merely a shrine to your meticulous schedule? Your social engagements? Your endless array of dresses? And that reputation you clutch so tightly, as if it holds more value than anything else?”

“I didn’t build all of this just for myself!” Vanessa’s voice rose, tinged with indignation. “It’s for us, Daven! For our family name! I wanted to ensure that people don’t look down on us!”

“The issue is, you’ve become so consumed by appearances that you’ve neglected what truly matters within those walls.” Daven’s voice was cold, each word cutting through the air like a knife. “What’s the point of having a family name if we were never really a family to begin with?”

Vanessa bit her lower lip, the sting of his words hitting her hard. “So now I’m the one to blame? What about all the times you just walked away? You let me shoulder everything while you pursued your whims. Don’t put the blame on me for the emptiness that crept into our home.”

“That emptiness isn’t because I wasn’t there,” Daven shot back, his tone sharp and unyielding. “It’s because you’ve been too wrapped up in your own world. And you know that’s true.”

The air between them thickened, both of them breathing heavily, drained by the emotional weight of their confrontation. Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the relentless ticking of the wall clock—loud, steady, and jarringly intrusive amidst the palpable tension.

“I don’t know why,” Vanessa began, her voice trembling slightly as she sought to regain her composure, “but every time we have these fights, I hold onto a sliver of hope. Maybe this time, we’ll actually reach some understanding. If we just talk long enough, surely we can find a way through this.”

She paused, her gaze drifting to the man who once made her feel as though the universe revolved around their shared existence. But now, an unsettling feeling gnawed at her, a realization that no matter how hard she tried, her efforts seemed futile.

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