HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 371

**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**
**Chapter 371**

“I’ll help you get ready,” Althea said softly, her breath escaping in a quiet sigh that seemed to echo the tension in the air. “Besides… none of you seem eager to tell me anything, right?” Her words hung between them, a gentle plea for connection amidst the uncertainty.

“That’s not it, sweetheart,” Daven replied, inching closer, his voice a soothing balm meant to ease her worries. He could sense the unease radiating from her, and he longed to comfort her in a way that would dispel the shadows creeping into their lives.

Althea held his gaze for what felt like an eternity, searching for reassurance in the depths of his eyes. Finally, she offered him a faint, weary smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s fine. I understand. You don’t want me to worry.” She extended her hand toward him, a silent invitation to bridge the distance between them. “Come on. You should hurry. I’m sure Arsen will be here any minute to pick you up.”

Daven took her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin—a grounding presence amid the chaos swirling around them. Together, they walked toward their room, the silence enveloping them like a heavy blanket. It was a silence that felt more suffocating than any argument they could have had, filled with unspoken fears and worries that neither dared to voice.

Althea’s heart raced with anxiety. She would be lying if she claimed otherwise. The unease gnawed at her insides, especially given that trouble at Daven’s company had been absent for so long. Everything had seemed to flow smoothly for years, like a calm sea, and now it felt as though a storm had suddenly broken, waves crashing down one after another.

Was this family ever allowed a moment to breathe? To heal from the lingering ache of losing a mother?

Those thoughts clung to her like a persistent shadow, refusing to let go.

On the bed lay an open black suitcase, its contents waiting to be filled. The soft glow of the bedroom lights cast gentle, dancing shapes on the walls, yet the atmosphere was far from warm and inviting. Daven stood to the left of the bed, meticulously sorting through his work shirts, each fold a reminder of the chaos looming just outside their door. He paused more than once, his brow furrowed in concentration, unsure of what essentials he truly needed to bring along.

Althea, with a few carefully chosen pieces of clothing draped over her arm, approached him. “Do you need this?” she asked, handing him a shirt with a gentle touch.

“Yeah. Maybe,” he replied, his voice flat and devoid of enthusiasm as he accepted the garments. It was as if the contents of the suitcase were of little importance compared to the tempest brewing behind the scenes. He folded a shirt, placing it atop the growing stack, then hesitated once more. “You can put my jacket there, sweetheart.”

Althea retrieved the jacket from the closet and placed it in the suitcase, her mind racing with thoughts of the cold waiting for him. “You’ll need a thick one, right? It’s cold over there.”

“It should be,” Daven murmured, his gaze lingering on the suitcase rather than meeting her eyes.

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