My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

The darkness had swallowed the mountain completely, and the bitter cold crept through every exposed inch of skin.

Marco pocketed his phone after ending the call and made his way back toward their campsite. Through the dim glow of the lantern, he spotted Veronica and Cecelia sitting close together, the little girl chattering away while they shared their simple meal. Without a word, he disappeared into the tent and emerged moments later carrying two jackets of different sizes.

He extended the larger one toward Veronica. Her immediate response was to shake her head. "I don't need it. The cold doesn't bother me."

"Put it on anyway." Marco's tone left no room for argument as he draped the jacket across her shoulders before she could protest further. He then wrapped Cecelia in the smaller coat, making sure every button was secure.

The warmth that immediately enveloped Veronica was undeniable. The mountain wind that had been cutting through her thin sweater was now blocked, and despite her initial resistance, she found herself grateful for the protection.

After they finished eating, the three of them headed toward the communal bonfire where other campers had gathered.

A woman sitting near the flames looked up as they approached and let out an admiring sigh. "What a gorgeous family! You three look like something out of a magazine."

Veronica's steps faltered for just a moment before she quickly corrected the assumption. "We're not related."

The group around the fire exchanged knowing glances and chuckled softly among themselves. One of the men winked and said they might not be family now, but it was clearly just a matter of time before that changed.

Cecelia, oblivious to the adult conversation swirling around her, spotted a group of children building snow forts nearby and ran off to join them.

The sudden absence of the child's chatter left Marco and Veronica sitting in uncomfortable silence. Around them, families and couples were engrossed in animated conversations, their laughter punctuating the crisp night air. Some were engaged in spirited snowball fights while others worked together to construct elaborate snow sculptures.

Veronica had no desire to bridge the gap between herself and Marco. Every potential topic of conversation felt like stepping into a minefield. Discussing family would inevitably lead to thoughts of Cullen and Niall, wounds that were still too fresh and raw. Work-related topics would only serve as reminders of the chaos at Stellar and everything that had gone wrong there.

Marco seemed to sense her reluctance to engage, but after several minutes of silence, he finally spoke. "How are things going at DataPulse? Are you settling in well?"

Veronica's fingers worked methodically, twisting and shaping the dried grass she had picked up from the ground into delicate butterfly forms. Her voice was devoid of any enthusiasm when she replied, "It's fine."

"Dario seems to have taken quite an interest in making sure you're comfortable there."

"I suppose so." Her response was clipped, offering no additional information.

"Did you focus on artificial intelligence during your university studies?"

She made a small sound of acknowledgment without looking up from her grass sculpture.

Marco pressed on, though he could feel her growing more distant with each question. "How did you first meet Dario?"

This time, Veronica didn't respond at all. The silence stretched between them like a physical barrier.

Marco recognized the wall she had erected and chose not to push further. He had always been aware of the careful distance Veronica maintained between them, and he understood the reasons behind it, even if it frustrated him.

His phone rang several times throughout the evening, forcing him to step away from the fire to take the calls in private. Each conversation seemed more urgent than the last, and by the time he returned to the group, most of the other campers had begun to disperse.

Veronica had created an entire collection of grass butterflies during his absence. Cecelia had returned from playing and was carefully examining each delicate creation, her eyes wide with wonder as she gently placed them in her jacket pocket for safekeeping.

The sight of Cecelia's pure joy sent an unexpected pang through Veronica's chest. The memory of Sabrina's similar enthusiasm for every small craft project or creative endeavor came flooding back. Sabrina had once looked at Veronica's simple creations with that same sense of awe and excitement. But those days belonged to a different life, one that felt impossibly distant now.

When it came time to retire for the night, Cecelia made her intentions clear. She wanted to sleep in the same tent as Veronica, and no amount of gentle persuasion was going to change her mind.

Marco's eyes found Veronica's face, silently asking for her decision. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded her agreement.

The sleeping arrangements were practical rather than intimate. Each person had their own sleeping bag, creating individual cocoons within the shared space of the tent. Cecelia seemed content just knowing Veronica was nearby, even though the separate bags made cuddling impossible.

Throughout the night, the mountain winds howled with increasing intensity, causing the tent fabric to snap and flutter loudly. Veronica found herself lying awake for long stretches, listening to the sounds of the storm outside and the steady breathing of her tent companions.

When morning arrived, it brought with it the consequences of the harsh night. Cecelia woke up with a congested voice and flushed cheeks, clear signs that she had caught a cold during their mountain adventure.

Veronica herself felt the effects of her restless night. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her usual composure seemed fragile around the edges.

Marco took one look at his daughter's condition and made the immediate decision to take her to the nearest hospital for a proper examination. Veronica began gathering her own belongings, intending to drive herself back to the city separately.

However, Cecelia had other plans. The moment she realized Veronica was preparing to leave without them, she attached herself to the woman's side with the determination only a sick child could muster. Her pleas were persistent and heartbreaking, asking why Veronica couldn't come with them to make sure she was okay.

Faced with Cecelia's genuine distress and obvious illness, Veronica found her resolve crumbling. Against her better judgment, she agreed to accompany them to the hospital.

The three of them climbed into Marco's vehicle, with Veronica settling into the passenger seat while Cecelia curled up in the back. The combination of the warm car interior and the exhaustion from their sleepless night proved too much for both females. Within minutes of leaving the campsite, they had both succumbed to sleep.

Marco's attention was divided between the winding mountain road ahead and the peaceful scene beside him. Veronica's face had relaxed in sleep, the tension that usually marked her features when she was around him completely absent. A few strands of hair had fallen across her cheek, and his hand moved instinctively toward her face to brush them away.

Just as his fingers were about to make contact with her skin, her eyelashes fluttered slightly. The small movement was enough to make him pull his hand back quickly, returning his focus entirely to the road ahead.