My Coldhearted Husband'S Regret novel Chapter 90

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90 A Calculated Distance, An Unavoidable Collision

90 A Calculated Distance, An Unavoidable Collision

“Elara.” Damien’s voice stopped me. “Eleanor mentioned something about you needing help with Vivienne’s uncle?”

“Soon–to–be ex,” I corrected, glancing back at Damien’s Bentley as it pulled away. it wasn’t by choice. Eleanor orchestrated it.”

“No,” I squared my shoulders. “I won’t let them dictate where I can and can’t go.”

“And

I sighed, hand still on the door. “Alistair Dubois is blocking a potential partnership for YodaVision. I thought maybe you could talk to him, but I’ve changed my mind. I’ll figure it out.”

“Lunch? I’m starving and we need to discuss the pitch for next week.”

Julian chuckled. “Ah, the meddling grandmother strikes again.”

“You know,” Miranda said quietly, her words meant only for me, “I always told you she was the superior daughter. Damien clearly agrees.”

“Thank you for the ride,” I said, reaching for the door handle.

As Julian and I entered the restaurant, I felt Vivienne’s gaze boring into me, her smug expression barely masking the jealousy beneath. What I couldn’t understand was why, when she had everything – Damien, my mother’s love, even Cora’s adoration – she still looked at me with such hostility.

I slipped out of the car, shutting the door behind me. Through the window, I could see him smiling at whatever Vivienne was saying.

The car’s interior still held evidence of Vivienne’s presence – her perfume lingering in the air, her lipstick and purse tucked neatly in the compartment. All carefully preserved in her absence. All silent reminders that this space, like so many others in Damien’s life, belonged to her.

“How’s the divorce proceeding?” Julian asked carefully as we turned into the restaurant parking lot.

Inside the lobby, several employees glanced our way, their curiosity poorly disguised. Being the almost–ex–wife of Damien Thorne made me the subject of constant

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90 A Calculated Distance, An Unavoidablo Collision

speculation. Dating rumors about Julian and me circulated despite our strictly professional relationship.

“Ready for the Henderson meeting?” Julian asked as we entered the elevator.

Vivienne cast me one last cold look, triumph glittering in her eyes. As they turned to enter the restaurant, my mother lingered behind.

The jab was intentional, designed to wound. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he suggested again.

The emphasis on “family” was deliberate, a reminder that she had claimed what was once mine – Damien, my mother’s approval, even my daughter’s affection.

Traffic slowed to a crawl as we approached downtown. Damien’s phone buzzed again, and this time he picked it up, glancing at the message.

I hesitated. “She’s… adjusting. Vivienne’s influence is strong.”

The silence in the car was suffocating.

“It’s on my way,” Damien replied curtly.

“Elara,” she called, her voice dripping with false warmth. “What a surprise.”

I sat stiffly in the back seat, watching Cora’s school disappear from view. Damien drove with one hand on the wheel, his posture relaxed but his jaw tight.

“Damien,” Julian replied coolly. “Business lunch?”

Twenty minutes later, we were in Julian’s sleek Tesla, heading toward Blue Water, an upscale restaurant known for its business crowd.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle myself,” I replied quickly.

“I can still take a cab,” I offered, desperate to escape this confined space with him. “YodaVision isn’t far.”

Elara’s POV

The morning flew by in a flurry of meetings and coding reviews. By noon, Julian appeared at my office door.

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90 A Calculated Distance, An Unavoidable Collision

“Moving forward,” I replied. “The lawyers are handling most of it.”

When we finally pulled up to the YodaVision building, relief washed over me. The sleek- glass structure.

everything I’d reclaimed – my independence, my passion,

my self–worth.

His phone buzzed on the console. I caught Vivienne’s name flash across the screen before he swiped it away. The tension in the car thickened.

“We can go somewhere else,” Julian murmured, noticing my discomfort.

Vivienne spotted us first. Her perfect features hardened into a cold mask as her eyes met mine. She slipped her arm through Damien’s possessively, whispering something in his ear. He glanced our way, his expression impassive, but I knew him well enough to recognize the slight tension in his shoulders.

“Work?” I asked, regretting the question immediately.

Damien’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the steering wheel. “I’m running late this morning.”

Damien’s gaze flickered between Vivienne and me, his expression unreadable. “Julian,” he acknowledged with a curt nod.

“You usually take Cora inside,” I remarked, keeping my tone casual. “She likes when you

walk her to class.”

I froze. I’d asked Eleanor not to mention that to Damien, but clearly her matchmaking agenda had overridden my request.

“Mother,” I replied evenly, approaching the group with Julian beside me. “Alistair. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Before I could respond, his phone rang. Vivienne’s name appeared on the screen. He answered immediately, his voice shifting to a warmer tone I hadn’t heard directed at me in years.

The barb hit its mark. Seven years of marriage, and he still knew exactly where to

strike.

All I’d wanted was to build my own path, separate from the Thorne name. Yet here I was, caught in their orbit once again, unable to escape the gravitational pull of the life I was trying to leave behind.

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“Vivienne,” he answered without hesitation. “She’s meeting her uncle and your mother

for lunch.

“Give me five minutes to finish this email,” I said, typing quickly.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing if you’re asking for my help.”

“And Cora?”

Then I remembered my request to Damien about Alistair, and suddenly her anger made sense. She was marking her territory, reminding me that Damien was hers now – his help, his influence, his power.

“You didn’t need to leave the school,” he said finally, eyes fixed on the road. “I would have waited while you said goodbye properly.”

“I’m surprised she has time for family lunches with her busy schedule,” I said, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

The unspoken truth hung between us. He made time to escort Cora when Vivienne was with them – the picture–perfect family moment. With just me in the car, such efforts weren’t worth his time.

What caught my attention next made my blood run cold. Standing by the restaurant entrance, clearly waiting for them, were Alistair Dubois and my mother, Miranda

Vance.

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