My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

Cullen's eyes found Veronica across the room, studying her carefully. "Are you heading home tonight?"

Veronica's mind was still processing the tense exchange she'd witnessed between Cullen and Malcolm moments earlier. His sudden question caught her off guard, and she hesitated before answering. "No."

His response was a curt nod. "Understood." Cullen rose from his seat with deliberate slowness. "I'll return later for Sa."

The finality in his voice made it clear he was departing. Veronica's reply came out sharper than she intended. "Fine."

Cullen made no attempt at further conversation with her. Instead, he approached Mary with measured steps. "Mrs. Jayden, I have business to handle. I'll be taking my leave now."

Mary remained firmly seated, her voice carrying an arctic chill. "Very well. Don't expect me to escort you out."

Cullen appeared completely unaffected by her obvious hostility. He turned toward Phillip, offering him the briefest of acknowledgments before striding out of the banquet hall without looking back.

The hotel's entrance buzzed with departing guests when Marco emerged from his vehicle. His movements froze mid-step as he spotted Cullen's familiar figure cutting through the crowd.

Cullen slipped into his car with practiced efficiency and pulled away from the curb without pause.

Marco observed the departure from behind his windshield, making no move to follow or intercede.

The banquet continued its course until Malcolm and Dario finally made their exit together, their conversation continuing in hushed tones.

Sabrina had indulged too heavily in the afternoon's array of appetizers and canapés. When dinner was served, she barely touched her plate before abandoning the festivities entirely. She'd retreated upstairs to lose herself in video games, finding the adult conversations tedious.

The guest list had dwindled considerably by the time Veronica climbed the stairs to retrieve her daughter.

Sabrina immediately pulled off her gaming headset when her mother appeared in the doorway. "Are you finished downstairs, Mom?"

"The evening's winding down." Veronica's voice carried a note of weariness. "Your father mentioned collecting you tonight. Give him a call to confirm his timing."

The prospect of spending tomorrow with Niall instantly brightened Sabrina's expression, and she eagerly reached for her phone.

The connection went through on the first ring. After a brief exchange, she set the device aside with satisfaction. "Dad says he'll arrive in fifteen minutes."

"Perfect." Veronica gestured toward Sabrina's scattered belongings. "Gather your things. We'll wait for him in the lobby."

Sabrina's natural inclination was to coax her mother into helping with the packing. Veronica had always handled these tasks for her, making it feel strange to do it alone.

But something in her mother's demeanor made her reconsider. The usual warmth seemed dimmed, replaced by an exhaustion that ran deeper than physical fatigue.

Sabrina quietly collected her items without complaint.

When departure time approached, Veronica guided Sabrina toward the elevator.

Inside the confined space, Sabrina grasped her mother's hand and began swinging it in a gentle rhythm. "Mom?"

Veronica glanced down at her daughter's upturned face. "What is it?"

"You've been different lately. Quieter." The observation came without accusation, just genuine curiosity. "You don't check on me as much as you used to. And when we're together, you don't say as much."

The innocent words hit Veronica with unexpected force. She'd been so consumed with her own emotional turmoil that she hadn't realized how her withdrawal was affecting Sabrina.

Initially, Sabrina had welcomed the increased independence. No more constant phone calls or detailed questioning about her activities. But gradually, she'd noticed that her mother's silence extended beyond those boundaries into their actual time together.

It was as if a vital part of her mother had simply retreated.

Veronica had devoted years to understanding every nuance of her daughter's personality. Sabrina wasn't oblivious to emotional undercurrents. The fact that she was only now addressing the change suggested how gradually Veronica had been pulling away.

"I'm just tired," Veronica said finally, her gaze shifting to the elevator doors.

Sabrina accepted the explanation without pushing further. Her mother's exhaustion was written clearly across her features, making additional questions seem cruel.

The hotel lobby opened before them, and immediately the night air attacked with vicious intensity.

The wind carried a bitter edge that seemed to cut through their clothing effortlessly. Sabrina gasped at the first contact with the freezing gusts.

"It's freezing out here, Mom," Sabrina complained, her small body already trembling. She pressed closer to Veronica, seeking warmth and shelter. "I can't walk in this. Please carry me."

At nearly six years old, Sabrina had grown substantially heavier. Lifting her would strain Veronica's back and shoulders considerably.

Despite the physical challenge, Veronica bent down and gathered her daughter into her arms. Sabrina immediately burrowed against her, seeking protection from the harsh wind that showed no mercy to either of them.