My Coldhearted Husband'S Regret novel Chapter 25

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25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day

25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day

Damien’s phone buzzed on the breakfast table. Elara’s eyes flickered to the screen, catching the caller ID: “Babe.” A familiar pang shot through her chest, but she kept her expression blank. O

“Hi there. Damien’s voice was soft, gentle-a tone Elara barely recognized.

He stood, moving away from the table. Cora looked up from her cereal, her small face brightening with interest.

“Is that Vivi?” she asked loudly.

Damien nodded, his brow furrowed with concern. “You have a fever? Since when?”

Elara busied herself with her coffee, focusing on the bitter taste rather than the sharp twist in her gut. Seven years of marriage and he’d never once used that voice with her. “I’ll be there soon,” Damien said, ending the call. He turned to Cora. “Vivienne isn’t feeling well. I need to check on her.”

“Is she okay?” Cora’s voice was thick with worry.

“Just a fever,” Damien replied, already grabbing his jacket. “She’ll be fine.”

He paused briefly by the door. “Elara, can you handle preparations for the Henderson meeting this afternoon?”

“Of course.” Her voice was steady, professional.

Without another word, Damien was gone.

Elara sat still, listening to the front door close, the car engine start. Cora’s spoon clinked against her bowl in the silence.

“I hope Vivi feels better,” Cora mumbled.

“I’m sure she will,” Elara replied, gathering her own things. “Your father will take good care of her.”

Later, in the car on the way to school, Elara noticed Cora typing on her phone, her

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25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day

small fingers moving quickly.

“Who are you messaging?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

“Vivi,” Cora answered simply. “Telling her to get better. And that I love her.”

Elara’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s… kind of you.”

After dropping Cora off, Elara drove to Thorne Industries with mechanical precision. The sky was overcast, threatening rain-fitting for her mood.

In the office, Marcus Cole intercepted her before she reached her desk.

“Mr. Thorne won’t be in for the morning meetings,” he informed her. “Everything’s been pushed to this afternoon.”

“I’m aware,” Elara replied.

Marcus hesitated. “Also, we’ve nearly completed the handover of your duties. Your successor has been briefed on most processes.”

“That was quick.” Elara kept her voice neutral despite the heaviness settling in her chest.

“Mr. Thorne requested the transition be expedited.”

Of course he did. Elara nodded and continued to her desk, opening her laptop with practiced efficiency. She had work to do, regardless of where Damien was or who he was comforting.

Still, her mind betrayed her. Was he holding Vivienne now? Placing a cool cloth on her forehead? Murmuring soft words of comfort? The images tormented her, each one a papercut against her heart.

By lunchtime, the office was buzzing with whispered conversations. Elara caught fragments-“CEO’s with his girlfriend”…”heard she’s really sick”…”cancelled his entire morning.”

Elara ate her lunch alone in the break room, scrolling through emails that blurred before her eyes.

At precisely 2:30 PM, Damien strode into the conference room for the Henderson

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25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day

*51

meeting. Elara noticed immediately that he’d changed his clothes since morning. Fresh shirt, different tie. Her imagination filled in the blanks-his previous outfit likely rumpled from lying beside Vivienne, perhaps stained from tending to her.

“The Henderson files,” she said, handing him the folder as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Their fingers brushed in the exchange. His were warm-warmer than usual. Had Vivienne’s fever transferred to him? Or was it heat from their bodies pressed together?

“Thank you,” Damien replied curtly.

The meeting proceeded, but Elara struggled to focus. Each time Damien spoke, she couldn’t help wondering if his voice had been this business-like when speaking to a feverish Vivienne, or if he’d used that soft tone she’d heard on the phone.

“Mrs. Thorne? Your input?” Marcus prompted.

Elara blinked, realizing she’d missed a question. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Damien’s cold stare cut through her. “Perhaps if you were paying attention rather than daydreaming, we could progress more efficiently.”

The room fell silent. Elara straightened her shoulders. “My apologies. Mr. Henderson was asking about the logistics timeline. According to our projections, we should expect delivery by the third quarter…”

She recovered smoothly, but the damage was done. Damien’s disapproval lingered like a cloud over the rest of the meeting.

When it finally ended, Elara gathered her notes with trembling hands. The other executives filed out, but Marcus Cole remained behind.

“Mrs. Thorne,” he said quietly when they were alone. “I wanted to let you know that the handover is essentially complete. Your successor will start shadowing you tomorrow, but honestly, there’s no need for you to come in.”

Elara’s heart skipped. “I see.”

“Mr. Thorne approved this acceleration himself,” Marcus added, his expression sympathetic. “Your severance package will remain as discussed, regardless of the

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25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day

shortened timeline.”

Of course. Damien couldn’t wait to erase her from his company, just as he had from his life.

“I understand,” she said, her voice hollow. “I’ll clear my desk today, then.”

Marcus nodded awkwardly before leaving her alone in the conference room.

Elara sat motionless for several minutes. Tomorrow would have been her last day at Thorne Industries-a place she’d worked for nearly seven years. Now, she wouldn’t even have that final day of closure.

At her desk, she began packing her personal items into a small cardboard box. There wasn’t much-a photo of Cora, a potted succulent, a few pens she preferred. It was pitiful how little of herself she’d allowed to exist in this space.

She felt Damien’s presence before she saw him. He stood in the doorway of her office, watching her pack.

“Marcus informed me he spoke with you,” he said.

Elara continued placing items in her box. “Yes. Thank you for the accelerated timeline. I’m sure my replacement will handle everything perfectly.”

“This isn’t personal, Elara,” Damien stated flatly. “It’s business efficiency.”

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