All Chapters of EX-HUSBAND'S REGRET (It's Too Late To Apologise): Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The knife felt cold in my hand as I pressed it against the frosted cake. My fingers trembled—not from nerves, but from pure excitement. Pink or blue. Girl or boy. After everything I'd been through, this moment felt like proof that life could still surprise me with something beautiful. "Ready?" Damien's voice came from beside me, smooth and warm. His hand covered mine on the knife, steady and sure. My husband. My partner. My whole world. "Ready." I smiled up at him, and God, I wanted to freeze this moment forever. We cut together. The cake split open. Blue confetti exploded outward in a shower of ribbons and glitter that caught the fairy lights like falling stars. Blue. The room erupted in cheers, but my smile locked in place. My heart pounded so hard I felt it in my throat. Blue? But the ultrasound showed—no, wait, the technician said— "Oh my God." I laughed, but it sounded wrong even to my ears. "There must be a mistake. The bakery got it wrong." I pulled my phone fro

I stared at Calloway Sterling. Six-three easily, maybe more. The kind of presence that made a room feel smaller just by existing in it. His suit probably cost more than my car, and his eyes—cold gray, calculating—missed nothing. "$2.3 million?" I repeated slowly. Damien's hand clamped around my arm. "Elena, please. Go upstairs. I'll handle this." I didn't move. "How much of that was my money?" "What?" Damien's grip tightened. "My inheritance. My savings from before we got married. The account I thought was for the baby." I kept my voice level, watching his face pale. "How much did you gamble away?" Calloway's eyebrow raised slightly. Interest flickered in those storm-gray eyes. "This is a private matter—" Damien started. "All of it." I turned to Calloway. "He took all of it, didn't he? And then he kept going." Calloway pulled out a folder from his briefcase. Flipped it open. "Your husband used your house as collateral for a loan six months ago. When he defaulted, h

Two weeks slipped by in a blur of doctor's appointments and quiet domesticity. I fell into a routine I'd never expected—prenatal vitamins with breakfast, afternoon naps Calloway insisted I take, Thursday appointments with Dr. Morrison. Calloway worked from home more often than not, his office door always cracked open like he needed to know I was nearby. It was during one of Victoria's surprise visits that I overheard the conversation that changed everything. "You're sleeping on her floor again." Victoria's voice drifted from the living room. "I saw the pillow and blanket this morning." I froze in the hallway, my hand on the nursery door. "She has nightmares," Calloway said quietly. "I want to be there when she wakes up." "You left the merger yesterday. For a doctor's appointment." "Her appointment." "And the way you look at her, Calloway..." Victoria's voice softened. "The baby's yours, isn't it? That's why you married her so quickly." Silence stretched. My heart

I woke up disoriented. For the second time in as many days, I had to remind myself where I was. Calloway's penthouse. My new home. My temporary home? I didn't even know anymore. The silk sheets were cool against my skin, the morning light filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased Manhattan like a living postcard. Everything was too perfect. Too clean. Too expensive. I sat up slowly, one hand instinctively moving to my belly. The baby kicked in response—strong, insistent. A reminder that whatever chaos my life had become, she was still here. Still fighting. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A calendar reminder: Dr. Morrison appointment - 2:00 PM. Right. Life continued, even when it felt like the world had tilted sideways. I threw on the silk robe from the bathroom and padded out into the hallway. The smell of coffee and something sweet drew me toward the kitchen. Calloway stood at the stove, dressed casually in dark jeans and a fitted grey henley. No suit today.

"Absolutely not," Calloway said. "Tell security to escort her off the property." "She's causing a scene, sir," the maid said nervously. "The neighbors are watching. She's threatening to call the press." Victoria stood abruptly. "Let her in." "Mother—" "Let her in, Calloway. Better to deal with her here, privately, than have her making a spectacle at the gates." Victoria's expression hardened. "Besides, I'd like to have a word with the girl who thought she could trap my son." Calloway's jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. His hand remained on mine under the table, grip almost painful. "Elena," he said quietly. "When she comes in, don't engage. Don't respond. Let me handle this." "I can handle Natasha." "I know you can. But I'm asking you not to." His eyes held mine. "Please." The desperation in his voice made me nod. We heard her before we saw her. "—don't care what your protocol is! I need to see Calloway Sterling immediately! This is urgent!" The dining room