My Coldhearted Husband'S Regret novel Chapter 120

120 The Weight of a Sigh

120 The Weight of a Sigh

Starting the car, I pulled out of the parking space. In the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of Erin watching me from the entrance.

I gently but firmly removed her hand. “My father chose his path years ago. As did I.

I didn’t look back again. She might think her sigh still held power over me. But today I had faced her manipulation and walked away stronger.

The night air felt cool against my heated skin. “Thank you for stepping in.”

I nodded. “I just need a moment.”

“Elara, you’re being ridiculous,” Erin said, her voice hardening. “That was decades ago.”

That sigh had been a weapon wielded with precision throughout my childhood. It communicated volumes without saying a word: I was being unreasonable. I was the problem. I was making things difficult for everyone, especially my father.

Erin’s mouth opened slightly. “That was a simple mistake-”

“Darling,” Erin reached for my hand, which I subtly moved away. “Maybe this divorce is for your own good. You deserve someone who truly loves you.”

Mr. Fletcher cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should-‘

“It was the first time I visited after you married my father,” I continued. “You bought ice

cream for Vivienne and me.”

Erin’s mouth thinned into a tight line. “You’ve always been so difficult to reach, Elara. So much like your mother-”

Lilian shifted uncomfortably beside Erin.

That sigh. Such a simple sound. Yet it carried the weight of years of psychological manipulation. It was designed to make me question my reality, to make me feel like the unreasonable one for setting boundaries and speaking my truth.

“Of course you are,” I said, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “Just like that time

when I was nine.”

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120 The Weight of a Sigh

“We’ve never wanted to hurt you,” Lilian interjected smoothly.

The memory surfaced with startling clarity. “You don’t remember? That summer at father’s beach house.”

Elara’s POV

“That’s not-” Erin began.

As he walked to his own car, I leaned against mine, taking deep breaths. The encounter had drained me more than I wanted to admit.

“Perhaps you’re right,” I said calmly. “But that doesn’t justify your actions or Vivienne’s.”

The weight of that sigh would not follow me anymore.

His response was immediate: “Need backup?”

“No,” I cut her off. “A mistake would have been forgetting. But you specifically asked me earlier that day what flavors I liked. I told you chocolate was my favorite. Yet you handed me strawberry and gave Vivienne chocolate.”

“For what it’s worth,” Mr. Fletcher said quietly as we stepped outside, “I thought you handled that admirably.”

“We should go,” Mr. Fletcher interrupted, looking at his watch. “Our colleagues are

waiting.”

“Elara?” Mr. Fletcher’s voice pulled me back to the present. “Are you all right?”

We continued toward the exit in silence. Behind us, I could hear Lilian murmuring something to Erin, their voices too low to distinguish the words.

*“Take all the time you need. I’ll inform the others we’re running late.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the evening breeze against my face. I had confronted Erin and Lilian more directly than ever before. I had named their manipulations aloud. That was

progress.

“It is,” I said firmly. “You’ve facilitated her affair with my husband for years. You’ve welcomed him into family events. You’ve orchestrated opportunities for them to be

together.”

Lilian’s eyes narrowed slightly. “We’re simply concerned about Elara’s wellbeing.”

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120 The Weight of a Sigh

I realized I’d stopped walking. My hands were clenched into fists at my sides.

I opened my eyes and straightened my shoulders. No more. I refused to let their manipulations control my emotions any longer.

“Then why say the same things over and over?” I asked. “You’ve been telling me variations of ‘it’s for your own good‘ since I was a child. Words mean nothing when your actions say the opposite.”

“What are you talking about?” Erin asked, her brow furrowing in perfectly practiced confusion.

Mr. Fletcher and I began walking away. I felt lighter somehow, having finally confronted the years of subtle manipulation and gaslighting.

A smile tugged at my lips. “Already handled. Tell you later.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity. “That’s your justification? That you’re hurting me for

my own good?”

But I wasn’t fine. That single sound had punched through the armor I’d so carefully constructed. It reminded me how deeply conditioned I was to doubt myself when confronted with their manipulations.

Erin’s expression shifted to one of practiced sympathy. “Perhaps if Damien truly loved you, none of that would have mattered.”

“It’s not hard to see when you’re not emotionally involved.” He gave me a sideways glance. “But it can be nearly impossible when you are.”

“Ms. Vance has no interest in empty platitudes,” Mr. Fletcher said firmly. His .unexpected defense warmed me, though my face remained impassive.

I looked between these two women who had shaped so much of my childhood pain. “You claim to care about me, yet you’ve actively helped Vivienne interfere in my

marriage.”

Then I heard it–Erin’s sigh. That familiar, weighted exhalation designed to make me feel disobedient, ungrateful, and fundamentally wrong.

I remembered how my father would look at me then–his expression a mixture of disappointment and resignation–before suggesting I try harder to “get along” with

everyone.

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15h the Weigh

“Will you be okay to drive? he asked, gemine concern in his voice.

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