My Coldhearted Husband'S Regret novel Chapter 32

32 A Fevered Call, A Lingering Doubt

32 A Fevered Call, A Lingering Doubt

Elara’s POVO

The conversation between Joshua and another guest about Vivienne’s rising social status cut through the banquet hall’s ambient noise with painful clarity.

“Damien Thorne has been introducing her to everyone who matters in Baumond,” Joshua remarked, swirling his champagne. “I’ve never seen him go to such lengths for anyone before.”

“You think it’s serious then?” his companion asked.

Joshua laughed. “When a man like Damien Thorne personally calls in favors to build someone’s professional network? I’d say that’s about as serious as it gets.”

I pretended not to hear, but Julian’s concerned glance confirmed he’d caught it too. The words settled into my chest like stones, each one heavier than the last.

“Want to leave?” Julian whispered.

I shook my head. “Not yet. We still need to speak with the Archer Technologies team.”

Julian squeezed my arm gently. “They can wait until Monday.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, forcing a smile that felt brittle even to me.

I scanned the room, noticing Damien’s absence. His group had departed earlier, without so much as a glance in my direction. Despite the divorce proceedings, despite everything, his complete indifference still had the power to wound me.

Three hours later, after discussions with potential investors and business partners, Julian and I finally left. The night air felt refreshing after the stuffy banquet hall.

“You were magnificent tonight,” Julian said as we walked toward his car. “Professor Leonard couldn’t stop talking about your language processing model.”

I was about to respond when my phone rang. The screen displayed Damien’s name. My heart lurched despite myself,

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32 A Fevered Call, A Lingering Doubt

“Should I answer it?” I asked Julian, hating the uncertainty in my voice.

Julian’s expression hardened. “That’s up to you.”

I took a deep breath and answered. “Hello?”

“Come home.” Damien’s voice was cold, clinical. “Coco has a fever.”

My stomach dropped. “How high?”

“High enough.” A pause. “She’s asking for you.”

The call ended before I could respond. No goodbye, no further information.

“I need to go,” I told Julian, panic rising in my throat. “Coco’s sick.”

Julian nodded immediately. “I’ll drive you.”

The journey to the Thorne villa felt agonizingly slow despite Julian’s speed. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios. How high was Coco’s fever? Was she getting proper care? Why hadn’t Damien given me more details?

“She’ll be okay,” Julian said, sensing my anxiety. “Kids get fevers all the time.”

I nodded absently, staring out the window at the passing streetlights. “I know. I just-I can’t help worrying.”

When we arrived, I thanked Julian quickly and rushed to the door. Mrs. Gable, our housekeeper, opened it with a worried expression.

“She’s upstairs,” she said immediately. “The fever spiked about an hour ago.”

I took the stairs two at a time, my heels clicking against the marble. Coco’s room was dimly lit, the cartoon-themed night light casting soft shadows across her small form in

the bed.

“Coco?” I whispered, approaching carefully.

My daughter’s eyes fluttered open. Her face was flushed, hair damp with sweat against her forehead, “Mommy,” she whimpered, reaching for me.

I gathered her into my arms, feeling the heat radiating from her small body. “I’m here,

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32 A Fevered Call, A Lingering Doubt

baby. I’m here now.”

Mrs. Gable appeared in the doorway. “I gave her the fever reducer about twenty minutes ago. The doctor said to monitor her temperature and call if it goes above 102.”

“Has Damien been in to see her?” I asked, stroking Coco’s hair.

Mrs. Gable hesitated. “Mr. Thorne called to check in. He wanted to know when you

arrived.”

So he wasn’t home. Despite leaving the banquet hours before me.

“The kitchen’s prepared some children’s electrolyte drink,” Mrs. Gable continued. “Would you like me to bring it up?”

I nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

When she left, I focused entirely on Coco, wiping her forehead with a cool cloth I found on her bedside table. Her little fingers clutched my dress.

“Don’t go,” she mumbled.

“I won’t,” I promised. “I’m staying right here.”

I helped her sip the drink Mrs. Gable brought, then read from her favorite storybook until her eyelids grew heavy. Just as she was drifting off, she stirred.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asked sleepily.

The innocent question pierced my heart. “He’s not home right now, sweetheart.”

“But I want him too,” she said, lower lip trembling.

I smoothed her hair back. “I know, baby. Maybe he’ll be here when you wake up.”

Coco seemed satisfied with this answer and finally fell into a fitful sleep, still clinging to my hand. I sat beside her, watching her chest rise and fall, checking her temperature periodically. After an hour, the fever began to subside, her skin cooling gradually under my touch.

Mrs. Gable brought me a change of clothes and a cup of tea. “You should rest too,” she suggested kindly.

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32 A Fevered Call, A Lingering Doubt

“I’ll stay with her tonight,” I replied. “But thank you.”

When Coco was finally sleeping peacefully, I stepped into the hallway to call Damien. His phone rang several times before going to voicemail. I tried again with the same result.

A cold realization washed over me. Damien had left the banquet hours before I did. The venue was closer to our home than it was to my apartment. He should have been here long before now.

Unless he hadn’t come home at all.

The thought seemed to echo in the silent hallway. I checked the time: 11:42 PM. The banquet had ended around eight. Where was he? The answer formed in my mind before I could stop it.

With Vivienne.

While our daughter lay sick with fever, while I rushed across town terrified for her wellbeing, Damien was likely with Vivienne. The knowledge settled over me like ice water, shocking at first, then numbingly cold.

I returned to Coco’s room and curled up in the chair beside her bed. My body was physically present, watching over my daughter, but my mind kept replaying Joshua’s words from the banquet:

“I’ve never seen him go to such lengths for anyone before.”

The contrast was stark and painful. Damien, who couldn’t be bothered to come home to his sick child. Damien, who couldn’t spare a moment from Vivienne to be here.

Damien, who had called me only because Coco had asked for me, not because he thought I deserved to know our daughter was ill.

I checked my phone again: no missed calls, no messages. The house remained quiet except for Coco’s soft breathing.

Mrs. Gable appeared in the doorway once more. “Is there anything else you need, Mrs.

Thorne?”

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