CEO’s Regret After I Divorced (Serena and Ryan) novel Chapter 272

Chapter 272: Chapter 272 Flying to London

Ryan’s POV

I collapsed into my office chair, running a hand through my hair. Another long day at Blackwood Group, and all I could think about was how quickly I could get home.

"Mr. Blackwood, the quarterly projections are ready for your review," Simon said, placing a folder on my desk.

"Leave them. I’ll look at them tomorrow," I replied, already reaching for my coat. "Anything urgent?" 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"Nothing that can’t wait until morning, sir."

I nodded and headed for the elevator. The drive home felt longer than usual tonight. Serena had only been gone a few days for her London trip, but the emptiness I felt was becoming unbearable. I never thought I’d become this dependent on someone’s presence.

When I finally walked through the front door of our home, the quietness hit me immediately.

"Vivian?" I called out, looking around for my daughter.

The nanny appeared from the kitchen. "Mr. Blackwood, Vivian just had her bottle and has fallen asleep. Her temperature has remained normal, and she’s been in good spirits all day."

I nodded, trying not to show my disappointment. Even my six-month-old daughter seemed to be handling her mother’s absence better than I was.

"Dinner is ready whenever you’d like to eat, sir," the nanny added.

"I know, I’ll eat in a bit," I muttered, loosening my tie and pulling out my phone.

I sent Serena a quick message, asking how the preparations were going. No immediate response. She was probably busy with her Fashion Week preparations. The thought of her working late in London, possibly with Cedric Lancaster hovering nearby, made my jaw clench involuntarily.

After staring at my phone for another minute, I made a decision and dialed Simon.

"Book me on a flight to London for tomorrow," I said when he answered.

"Tomorrow?" Simon sounded surprised. "But sir, you have the investors meeting at—"

"Reschedule it," I cut him off, then softened my tone. "I’ll be back the following morning. It’s just a quick trip."

"I’ll make the arrangements immediately, Mr. Blackwood."

After hanging up, I felt lighter somehow. The prospect of seeing Serena tomorrow lifted my spirits considerably. I suddenly realized I was starving.

Just as I was heading to the dining room, a wail echoed from upstairs. I took the stairs two at a time, finding Vivian awake and crying in her crib.

"Hey there, princess," I murmured, carefully lifting her tiny body. Her crying subsided almost immediately as I cradled her against my chest. "Did you have a bad dream?"

I paced around her nursery, gently bouncing her. "Guess what? I’m going to see Mommy tomorrow," I whispered, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "I’d take you with me, but it’s a quick trip. You’ll have to stay here and be a good girl, okay?"

As if she understood, Vivian’s tiny mouth curved into a smile, her eyes—identical to Serena’s—looking up at me trustingly.

"That’s my girl," I said, gently stroking her cheek. "You’re so much better at this than Daddy is. I’m still learning how to be patient when I miss someone."

I continued rocking her until her eyelids grew heavy again. Even after she fell asleep, I held her a little longer, studying her features that were so much like her mother’s.

"Your mom is making quite a name for herself," I whispered. "And she’s doing it all on her own, without the Blackwood name opening doors. She’s the strongest person I know."

Finally placing Vivian back in her crib, I headed to my study. I needed to review some documents before my impromptu trip tomorrow. As I worked, I couldn’t help checking my phone every few minutes, hoping for a message from Serena.

When my phone finally buzzed, I practically lunged for it, only to find it was just Simon confirming my flight details. My disappointment was almost comical. Since when had Ryan Blackwood become so desperate for a text message?

"Where would you like to eat?" I asked once I’d grabbed my purse.

"How about near our old university? There are several new restaurants there. It would be nice to revisit old haunts."

The suggestion made perfect sense—nostalgic, but not overly intimate. "Sounds good."

During the drive, conversation flowed easily between us. We talked about industry gossip, mutual friends, and the upcoming Fashion Week.

The restaurant Cedric chose was bustling with students—their energy and optimism filling the air. We were seated by a window on the second floor, giving us a perfect view of the campus in the distance.

"This place hasn’t changed much," I observed, taking in the familiar streets where I’d once walked as a student, full of dreams but uncertain about the future.

"No, it hasn’t. We’re the ones who’ve changed," Cedric replied, his voice heavy with nostalgia.

"The years have gone by so quickly." I sighed, memories washing over me—late nights in the design studio, group projects, dreams discussed over cheap coffee.

Cedric began reminiscing about specific moments from our university days—the time I’d fallen asleep in the library and he’d covered me with his jacket, the design competition we’d entered together, the graduation party where we’d promised to stay in touch.

"Remember Professor Harmon? He always said you’d be the one to watch," Cedric said, leaning forward slightly. "He was right."

I smiled, about to respond when the temperature in the room seemed to drop suddenly. Something made me turn toward the entrance.

My heart stopped.

Standing there, scanning the restaurant with those intense gray-blue eyes, was Ryan. My husband. In London. Unannounced.