My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

The villa sat in one of the city's most exclusive neighborhoods, where towering oaks lined pristine streets and every home whispered old money. Despite its age, the property commanded respect with its sprawling gardens and classic architecture. In Manhattan's cutthroat real estate market, Veronica knew the place had to be worth somewhere between two and three billion dollars.

Money she simply didn't possess.

Cullen had barely walked through the front door when she brought up the subject. His suit jacket hung perfectly on his broad shoulders, and he was methodically loosening his silk tie with those long fingers she'd once found so mesmerizing. When her words registered, one dark eyebrow arched upward in what might have been amusement.

"You're planning to reimburse me for the villa?" His tone carried that familiar hint of condescension that always made her feel small.

"Yes, I thought I could—"

"Don't." The word cut through the air like a blade. Cullen placed his expensive tie on the mahogany dresser with deliberate care. "I have more money than I know what to do with."

His Rolex joined the tie on the polished surface before he strode toward the master bathroom, dismissing her entirely.

Veronica remained frozen in place, watching his retreating form disappear behind the bathroom door. The casual cruelty of his wealth stung, but she forced herself to swallow her pride. Throughout their marriage, she'd made it a point never to ask him for anything, terrified of becoming just another burden in his precisely organized life.

But as she stood there in the bedroom they'd shared for years, a realization struck her. This villa represented the only thing Cullen had ever given her without being asked. In all their time together, he'd never once offered her anything freely. Perhaps she should view it as a parting gift, a final gesture to mark the end of whatever they'd pretended to have.

With that thought firmly in mind, Veronica tucked the property deed into her dresser drawer and tried to push the conversation from her memory.

The next three days blurred together in a haze of meetings, deadlines, and carefully maintained distance. Neither she nor Cullen seemed to have time for anything beyond the most basic courtesies. Poor Sabrina bore the brunt of their busy schedules, spending more time with the household staff than with either of them.

On Thursday afternoon, Veronica's phone buzzed during a particularly tedious board meeting. Sabrina's sweet voice filtered through the speaker, asking if Veronica might be free to pick her up from school. The request was so simple, so normal, that it made Veronica's chest tighten with unexpected emotion. When was the last time she'd done something as ordinary as school pickup?

She glanced at her calendar and made a decision that would have shocked her colleagues. Veronica cleared her afternoon schedule and left the office early, something she hadn't done in months.

Sabrina's face lit up when she spotted Veronica's car in the pickup line. The little girl chattered excitedly during the drive home, asking if Veronica would cook dinner like she used to in the early days of their marriage. The request was impossible to refuse.

Back at the house, Veronica changed into comfortable clothes and headed straight for the kitchen. She'd forgotten how therapeutic it could be to lose herself in the rhythm of chopping vegetables and seasoning proteins. The familiar motions brought back memories of when she'd believed cooking for Cullen meant something, when she'd thought domestic gestures might bridge the gap between them.

Cook appeared in the doorway, her weathered face creased with genuine pleasure at seeing Veronica home before sunset. The older woman watched approvingly as Veronica worked, then suddenly reached for her phone with determined purpose.

"Cullen needs to come home for this," Cook announced, already dialing.

Veronica could hear Cullen's voice through the speaker, though she couldn't make out his words. His tone carried that familiar note of irritation he always used when dealing with what he considered interruptions.

"I have obligations tonight, Grandma," she caught him saying.

Cook's expression shifted from disappointment to something far more calculating. She ended the call abruptly and turned to Veronica with newfound determination.

"You'll take dinner to his office instead, dear."

"Cook, if Cullen's working, I shouldn't interfere—"

"Nonsense. The man has to eat, doesn't he?" Cook's tone brooked no argument. "It's settled."

Before Veronica could mount another protest, Cook was already directing Chelsea and the kitchen staff to prepare additional dishes. The older woman moved with military precision, clearly thrilled by her matchmaking opportunity.

But as Veronica watched the elaborate preparations unfold, a practical problem emerged. She had absolutely no idea which office Cullen was using tonight. His business empire sprawled across multiple buildings, and he moved between them without any pattern she could discern.

More importantly, Cullen likely had other plans once his work finished. She might very well show up with dinner only to find him gone, leaving her standing in some empty office like a fool.

The thought spurred her into action. While Cook orchestrated the meal preparation, Veronica slipped away and climbed the stairs to call Cullen privately. She needed to give him an escape route, a way to shut down Cook's plan before it became truly embarrassing for both of them.

His phone rang several times before he answered, and his voice carried the distracted edge of someone juggling multiple priorities.

"What do you need?" No greeting, no warmth, just efficient communication.

"Cook wants me to bring you dinner at the office." Veronica rushed to add, "If you already have plans tonight, I can tell her you're unavailable."

She held her breath, waiting for him to seize the opportunity she'd handed him. Cullen would obviously prefer to avoid the awkwardness of her showing up uninvited at his workplace.

"Actually, I do have plans. Just tell Grandma that—"

His words were interrupted by another voice, clearly feminine and achingly familiar. "I brought dinner for you, Cullen."

Veronica's blood turned to ice in her veins. Niall. Of course it was Niall.

"Perfect," Cullen responded to the other woman, his voice carrying a warmth that Veronica hadn't heard directed at her in years.

When he spoke into the phone again, his tone had returned to its usual professional courtesy. "Tell Grandma I'm already taken care of for tonight."

The casual dismissal shouldn't have surprised her. Veronica had prepared herself for rejection, had even hoped for it. But hearing Niall's voice in the background, knowing that Cullen was sharing an intimate dinner with another woman while brushing off his own wife, created a hollow ache in her chest that she hadn't expected.

"Of course," she managed, proud that her voice remained steady. "I'll let Cook know you have other arrangements."

"Good." The line went dead without ceremony.

Veronica stared at her phone for a long moment, processing what had just happened. Cullen wasn't just avoiding dinner with his family. He was actively choosing to spend his evening with Niall instead. The woman who represented everything Veronica could never be—young, carefree, uncomplicated.

She forced herself to return downstairs, where Cook waited expectantly with containers of carefully prepared food. The older woman's hopeful expression made delivering the news even more difficult.

"Cullen sends his apologies," Veronica said carefully. "He has a prior dinner commitment tonight."

Cook's face fell, but she recovered quickly, ever the gracious hostess. "Well, I suppose business comes first."

If only it were that simple, Veronica thought. If only Cullen's absence was really about business instead of the growing distance between them, the careful politeness that had replaced whatever feelings they'd once shared.

As Cook directed the staff to pack away the extra food, Veronica retreated to the dining room where Sabrina waited patiently. At least the little girl would have a proper family dinner, even if it was just the two of them tonight.

But as they sat down to eat, Veronica couldn't shake the image of Cullen and Niall sharing their own intimate meal across town. She wondered if he laughed at Niall's jokes, if he asked about her day, if he showed her the attention he'd stopped giving his own wife months ago.

The food tasted like ash in her mouth, but she smiled for Sabrina's sake and pretended that everything was perfectly normal in their fractured little family.