My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

Sabrina watched Veronica with curious eyes as she worked the blow dryer through her damp hair. Something felt different about her mother tonight. The easy chatter that usually filled their evenings together was missing, replaced by an unusual quiet that hung between them like morning fog.

In the past, Veronica would fill every silence with stories about her day, questions about school, or random observations that made Sabrina laugh. Tonight, she seemed lost in her own thoughts, moving through the motions of their routine with mechanical precision.

The weight of Sabrina's stare must have finally registered because Veronica glanced up, meeting her daughter's gaze in the mirror. Her hands stilled on the blow dryer for just a moment.

"Something on your mind, sweetheart?" Veronica asked, though her voice carried a distant quality that hadn't been there before.

Sabrina quickly shook her head, dismissing the nagging feeling in her chest. "Just thinking about stuff." Maybe she was reading too much into things. Her mother had every right to have quiet moments.

Once her hair fell in smooth waves around her shoulders, Sabrina bounced onto her bed with the energy only teenagers possessed. She looked up at Veronica with hopeful eyes. "Want to have a sleepover with me tonight?"

The question seemed to catch Veronica off guard. She hesitated, her fingers unconsciously smoothing down Sabrina's freshly dried hair. "Would you like that?"

"I'm totally fine either way," Sabrina said with a casual shrug that didn't quite hide her eagerness. "But you and Dad haven't been spending much time together lately. Shouldn't you be with him instead?"

The observation hit closer to home than Sabrina probably realized. Veronica felt something tighten in her chest before she managed a smile. "You're right. I should head back to our room soon."

The divorce papers were still sitting unsigned in Cullen's office drawer. Until they made their separation official, maintaining appearances mattered. Cook's sharp eyes missed nothing, and the last thing they needed was to give her ammunition for gossip or interference.

Walking back down the hallway toward the master bedroom, Veronica noticed the strip of golden light bleeding out from under their door. Cullen was still awake, which wasn't unusual for him. His work often kept him burning the midnight oil.

She turned the handle quietly and stepped inside to find him exactly where she'd expected him to be. Cullen sat hunched over his laptop at the desk, his fingers moving across the keys with practiced efficiency. The blue glow from the screen cast shadows across his concentrated features.

Their eyes met briefly when he looked up at her entrance. The moment stretched between them, heavy with things neither seemed willing to say. Then Veronica looked away first, breaking whatever fragile connection had formed in that instant.

She moved to the walk-in closet with purposeful steps, pulling out a comfortable cotton pajama set. The bathroom offered her a temporary escape from the tension that seemed to follow her everywhere these days.

The hot water felt good against her skin, washing away the day's accumulated stress. She took her time, knowing that when she emerged, they would once again be sharing space while carefully avoiding each other.

True to form, Cullen remained absorbed in his work when she returned to the bedroom. Veronica settled onto her side of the bed, going through her nightly skincare ritual with methodical care. The familiar routine helped ground her in the present moment.

She reached for the novel on her nightstand, losing herself in someone else's story rather than dwelling on the complications of her own life. The words on the page provided a welcome distraction from the man working just feet away from her.

They existed in the same space like polite strangers, each focused on their own activities. The silence between them wasn't comfortable anymore. Instead, it felt charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

As the clock crept toward midnight, exhaustion finally began to weigh on Veronica's eyelids. She marked her place in the book and set it aside, then reached over to switch off the bedside lamp. The room plunged into darkness except for the persistent glow from Cullen's laptop screen.

Sliding under the covers, she positioned herself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible. The king-sized bed suddenly felt both too large and too small at the same time.

She'd expected to lie awake staring at the ceiling, hyperaware of Cullen's presence in ways that made her uncomfortable. Instead, sleep came easier than anticipated. Maybe it was because she'd grown accustomed to the soft clicking of his keyboard over the years. Or maybe it was because some part of her suspected he wouldn't actually stay the night.

He probably had plans to slip out once he thought she was asleep, making his way to Niall's apartment where he'd been spending more and more of his time lately. The thought should have bothered her less than it did.

The rhythmic sound of typing became a strange sort of lullaby, and before she knew it, Veronica had drifted into unconsciousness.

Her dreams were peaceful and warm, filled with a sense of safety and comfort she hadn't experienced in months. Even in sleep, she felt protected and cherished in ways that her waking hours no longer provided.

Morning light was just beginning to filter through the curtains when consciousness started to return. Veronica became aware of warmth surrounding her, of steady breathing that wasn't her own tickling her ear. There was also the undeniable sensation of being held close against someone's body.

Reality crashed over her like cold water. Her eyes flew open to find herself wrapped securely in Cullen's arms, her own limbs tangled around him as if they belonged there. They were pressed together so tightly that she could feel his heartbeat against her chest.

Every nerve in her body went on high alert. She'd been so careful to stay on her side of the bed when she'd fallen asleep. The vast expanse of mattress between them should have made this impossible.

Unless Cullen had unconsciously reached for her in his sleep. Unless his body had grown so accustomed to holding Niall during their nights together that he'd mistaken Veronica for his lover in the darkness.

The realization hit her like a physical blow. Her hand, which had been resting against his chest, slowly curled into a tight fist. She had to get out of this embrace before he woke up and they both had to face the awkwardness of what had happened.

She began to carefully extract herself from his arms, moving with the stealth of someone defusing a bomb. But her efforts only seemed to trigger the opposite response. Cullen's arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer against his warmth.

Before she could react, she felt the gentle press of his lips against her forehead. The kiss was soft and sleepy, achingly familiar in its tenderness.

"Just five more minutes," he murmured against her skin, his voice rough with sleep and something that sounded dangerously like affection.