My Coldhearted Husband'S Regret novel Chapter 74

74 Eleanor’s Hopeful Maneuvers

74 Eleanor’s Hopeful Maneuvers.

“That rare Jamaican coffee you like,” Damien explained. “An apology for missing last month’s family dinner.”

After dinner, we moved to the sitting room. Eleanor and Damien fell into conversation about a business acquisition while I sat quietly nearby, not attempting to join in. Cora played with her new dolphin toy on the carpet.

As we left the sitting room together, I could feel Eleanor’s gaze following us–watching, hoping, that her orchestrations might finally bear fruit. She didn’t understand that she was trying to mend something that had been broken from the beginning.

“You’re welcome.” His response was equally detached.

As the grandfather clock struck nine, Eleanor stifled a yawn behind her hand. “Oh my, it’s getting late.” She glanced meaningfully between Damien and me. “You two must be tired as well. Why don’t you head upstairs? I’ll have James bring Coco up in a little

while.”

“Eleanor,” he greeted, leaning down to kiss her cheek. He pulled a small package from his coat pocket. “I brought you something.”

Eleanor smiled, patting his arm. “Thank you, dear.” Then, with a pointed glance in my direction, she added, “Though I’m not the only one deserving an apology, am I?”

“Coco! My sweet girl,” Eleanor cooed, kissing the top of Cora’s head. “Did you have a good day?”

Again, Damien followed his grandmother’s direction without protest. He placed a helping of mashed potatoes on my plate–my favorite side dish–before serving

himself.

“So, Coco,” Eleanor said, turning to her great–granddaughter, “tell me more about the

aquarium.”

“Mom!” Cora turned and gave me a quick hug before pulling away to dig through her little backpack. “Look what 1 got!”

Eleanor sighed softly at my redirection. She still believed I was protecting Damien, covering for his coldness as I had done countless times before. She didn’t realize I’d

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74 Eleanor’s Hopeful Maneuvers

long stopped caring about salvaging his image.

Cora glanced at me, considering the idea. “Ma returning to her meal.

she said noncommittally before

The front door opened again, and Damien stepped in. Even after all these years, his presence still commanded attention. Tall and imposing in his tailored suit, he nodded briefly in my direction before turning to his grandmother.

Our eyes met, and in that moment, I felt the weight of all our choices–his, mine, and the ones we’d made together–pressing down on us in the quiet hallway of his family

home.

My stomach tensed at her suggestion. Though we still officially shared a bedroom at Thorne Manor during our visits, Damien and I had perfected the art of avoiding actual interaction within those private spaces.

Cora launched into an enthusiastic account of her day, complete with dramatic hand gestures. “And then Vi–I mean, we saw this huge shark! It was bigger than Dad’s car!”

Damien and I ascended the grand staircase side by side, close enough that our shoulders nearly touched, yet separated by an invisible wall thicker than the mansion’s stone foundation. Neither of us spoke. The only sound was our footsteps on the polished wood.

“Thank you,” I said politely.

The rest of dinner passed with carefully polite conversation. Eleanor asked about my work, and I gave brief updates about YodaVision’s latest projects. Damien listened without comment, focusing on his food.

I observed my husband as he spoke with his grandmother. His posture relaxed, his expression animated in a way it never was with me. I felt no jealousy, only a detached awareness of the difference.

“That sounds wonderful, dear,” Eleanor responded, smoothly guiding the conversation away from dangerous territory. “Perhaps next time your mother could join you.”

Elara’s POV

“Very cute,” I agreed, gently stroking her hair.

The silence stretched uncomfortably until I broke it. “Dinner should be ready soon.

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74 Eleanor’s Hopeful Maneuvers

Shall we move to the dining room?”

I said nothing. What could I say? That I no lo..ger made excuses for Damien? That I had stopped being “on his side” months ago? Eleanor cherished the illusion of our family unit. I wouldn’t be the one to shatter it tonight.

“Damien, would you serve Elara?” Eleanor suggested as the first course arrived. “You

know what she likes.”

“Yes, let’s cat,” Eleanor agreed. “James has prepared your favorite roast, Coco.”

Eleanor included me occasionally with a question or comment, but I kept my responses minimal. I wasn’t being deliberately difficult; I simply had nothing to contribute to their discussion. The distance between Damien and me had grown so vast that even sitting in the same room felt like occupying different planets.

In the dining room, Eleanor orchestrated the seating arrangement with practiced subtlety. “Damien, why don’t you sit here beside Elara? Coco and I will sit across from

you.”

At the top of the stairs, we paused, both facing the hallway that led to our shared bedroom. The air between us felt charged with unspoken words and complicated

history.

I recognized Eleanor’s hopeful gaze as she watched our interaction. Despite years of evidence to the contrary, she still believed our marriage could be rekindled through proximity and small gestures. I found myself strangely unmoved by Damien’s consideration. Once, I would have treasured this moment, analyzing every nuance of his behavior for hints of care. Now, I simply ate my dinner.

As she rummaged around, I caught the faint scent of an expensive perfume on her clothes. Vivienne’s signature scent. My smile remained fixed in place while my chest tightened. I said nothing about it.

I rose as well, giving Eleanor a warm hug. “Goodnight, Eleanor. Thank you for dinner.”

Damien’s eyes flickered to me for a moment, his expression unreadable. No words

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