My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

Veronica felt a familiar sting when Niall's voice answered Cullen's phone. The intimacy was undeniable now—they shared everything, even his personal calls. She pushed down the bitter taste rising in her throat and kept her voice steady. "I need Cullen on the line."

Niall had recognized her voice immediately. Her tone turned arctic. "He's busy in the shower right now. Whatever you need to discuss, you can share it with me instead."

Share it with her? The irony wasn't lost on Veronica. This information would impact Niall directly.

Phillip had spotted Niall's maternal uncle alongside Victor Mack's wife, Aurora, touring properties in their exclusive neighborhood earlier that day. The implications were clear—Isaac had likely secured the mansion directly across from their home.

The purchase could only mean one thing: Isaac intended it as a lavish gift for Elsie Edmund, Niall's grandmother and his current mother-in-law.

Even if Veronica revealed this development to Niall, would she intervene to prevent Elsie and her relatives from establishing themselves as neighbors? The answer was obvious—absolutely not.

More importantly, Veronica refused to believe Niall was ignorant about Victor's family's relocation plans. The woman was too calculating, too involved in every aspect of Cullen's life to miss such a significant move. Informing her would accomplish nothing except potentially creating more complications for Veronica herself.

Without another word, she disconnected the call.

Over an hour crawled by with painful silence. Cullen never returned her call.

She couldn't determine whether Niall had deliberately withheld the message or if Cullen simply had zero interest in speaking with her. The distinction seemed meaningless now.

Maintaining her composure, she dialed his number once more. This time, she was greeted by the automated message indicating his device was powered down.

Her fingers tightened around the phone involuntarily. After taking a moment to steady her breathing, she contacted Carlos, Cullen's longtime butler.

"Are they at the house currently?"

Carlos's response was immediate. "No, Mrs. Dennis, they're out this evening. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," she replied curtly before ending the conversation.

Sleep eluded her that night. She lay staring at the ceiling, her mind racing through possibilities and strategies.

The following morning arrived with leaden skies. After nine o'clock, Veronica attempted to reach Cullen again.

The call connected for barely a second before someone abruptly terminated it.

Whether Niall or Cullen himself had rejected her call remained unclear. At this point, she found she didn't particularly care which one had dismissed her so coldly.

She gathered her purse and phone with swift, determined movements and headed for the door. Twenty minutes later, she was pulling into the circular driveway of Cullen's estate.

Carlos's face brightened considerably upon seeing her. "Mrs. Dennis, what a pleasant surprise to have you back home."

She managed a small nod. "Thank you, Carlos."

"Shall I arrange for lunch to be prepared? The kitchen staff would be delighted to cook for you again."

"That would be lovely."

She climbed the familiar staircase, her heels clicking against the marble steps. At the second-floor landing, she hesitated for just a moment before pushing open the master bedroom door.

Setting her bag on the antique dresser, she settled onto the edge of the king-sized bed.

The space remained exactly as she remembered it. Every detail preserved with almost shrine-like precision.

Her skincare products, which she had used during those exhausting nights caring for Sabrina through her illness, had been returned to their designated spots on the vanity.

Even the clothing she had packed and removed weeks ago now hung in the walk-in closet again—arranged with meticulous care beside Cullen's expensive suits.

The message was unmistakable: as far as this house was concerned, she had never left at all.

She resisted the urge to call Cullen repeatedly. He made no attempt to contact her either.

Dinner was a solitary affair in the grand dining room. The silence felt oppressive despite Carlos's attentive service.

She briefly considered reaching out to Cook for assistance, but quickly dismissed the idea. Involving Cullen's mother would only create additional layers of family drama.

Besides, while Cullen maintained deep respect for Cook's opinions, his ultimate decisions remained entirely his own.

After her meal, Veronica retreated to the study and opened her laptop. Work provided a necessary distraction from the mounting tension.

Evening shadows lengthened across the manicured grounds.

She had nearly convinced herself that Cullen and Sabrina would spend the night elsewhere when the distinctive sound of his luxury sedan finally echoed from the driveway.

Sabrina's excited voice carried through the evening air before they even reached the front entrance. She had clearly spotted Veronica's vehicle parked near the fountain.

"Look, Dad! That's Mom's car! She came back home!" The child's joy was infectious and genuine.

Cullen's response was characteristically measured. "I see that."

His gaze lingered on her car for several beats before he guided Sabrina toward the house.

The moment they stepped inside, Sabrina immediately sought out Carlos, who had appeared to welcome them home.

"Where's Mom right now?" she asked breathlessly.

"Mrs. Dennis is upstairs in her room, sweetheart."