My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

Cullen refused to meet Veronica's gaze. His fingers traced gentle circles against Sabrina's small nose. "Work calls, sweetheart. Stay close to Mom and mind what she says."

Sabrina shrugged with the casual indifference only a child could manage. Her eyes found Veronica's face, studying her for a moment before walking over. Without a word, she stretched out her small hand, palm up.

The gesture was unmistakably an olive branch.

Veronica wrapped her fingers around Sabrina's, nodded briefly to Carlos, and walked away without looking back.

The Murray family home welcomed them with its familiar warmth. Cook had already settled into the living room, her impatience written across her features.

Her eyes swept the entrance behind them, searching. "Cullen's not with you? Let me guess - another urgent business matter?"

Veronica's response was a simple nod.

Cook's hand moved toward her phone with obvious irritation, ready to demand answers from her grandson. Mary intervened smoothly, her hand covering Cook's.

"Business waits for no one, Cook. There's no point dragging him away from his responsibilities." Mary's tone carried a weight that suggested she knew more than she was saying about Cullen's absence.

The children disappeared upstairs, their laughter echoing through the hallways as they lost themselves in games. Below, the three women formed a circle of conversation that felt both comfortable and strained.

Mary's latest artwork commanded Cook's complete attention. The delicate brushstrokes and intricate details spoke of hours spent in careful concentration.

"These came from that beautiful writing set, didn't they?" Cook's fingers hovered over the paintings, not quite touching. "The one Veronica brought for your birthday?"

When Mary produced the scholar's set, Cook's eyes lit with genuine appreciation. The craftsmanship was undeniable, each piece polished to perfection.

"Cullen remembered your birthday too, I hope?" The question carried a mother's expectation that her child had been raised properly.

Mary's expression flickered with something complicated. "He brought emeralds. A complete set. And that embroidery piece he claimed was from Veronica." Her words carried no warmth despite describing expensive gifts.

Cook's satisfaction was evident. "Good. At least he listened when I told him not to show up empty-handed."

Veronica remained silent, her thoughts elsewhere as the conversation flowed around her.

The afternoon moved them to the courtyard, where tea steamed between them and the autumn air carried the scent of approaching change.

Mary's attention drifted to the house visible across the way. "Strange how quiet it's been over there. All that construction noise, day and night, and then nothing. Like someone just vanished."

Cook followed her gaze with mild curiosity. "Plans change. Maybe they decided against moving after all."

"Perhaps."

The property had been Veronica's concern once. She'd wanted it gone, sold to someone with no connection to her complicated past. But the risk of it falling into the wrong hands - someone from the Crystal or Mack - had paralyzed her decision-making.

Now it sat empty, a reminder of unfinished business she couldn't bring herself to address.

A sudden chill ran through Veronica's body, followed by an involuntary sneeze that made both older women turn toward her with immediate concern.

"Are you feeling unwell? You look pale." Cook's grandmother instincts kicked in instantly.

Veronica reached for a tissue, pressing it to her nose. "I might be coming down with something."

The symptoms had been building since the previous night, though nothing as dramatic as what Cecelia had experienced. Still, the timing felt unfortunate.

The friendship between Cook and Mary stretched back decades, built on shared experiences and mutual respect. Yet Mary had kept certain recent events to herself - the tensions at her birthday celebration, the complicated situation with Cullen and Niall. Some conversations were too delicate for even old friends.

Their chat continued, touching on lighter subjects that required no careful navigation.

Veronica's phone interrupted the peaceful moment. Whitney's voice carried frustration and disbelief.

"Why does this keep happening to me? I swear I'm cursed!" Whitney's dramatic sigh was audible even through the speaker. "I'm at Meridian again, and guess who's here? Cullen, having what looks like a very cozy dinner with the Crystal. All of them."

The information hit Veronica like cold water, but she kept her voice steady. "I'm at the Murray house."

"You went alone?" Whitney's tone sharpened with concern.

"Cook came with me."

The pause on the other end stretched long enough for Whitney to process the implications. "So while you're doing family duty with his grandmother, Cullen's playing happy family with Niall's people?"