The CEO's Regret: Darling, Don’t Leave Me novel Chapter 35

Chapter 23: I Don’t Care?

Ethan

It was not impulse. That was the first thing I repeated to myself when I saw her alone in the hallway and

decided to talk to her. It wasn’t an emotional need or a late start to something I didn’t know how to take

care of.

It was… correction. Fit. A way of ordering a scene that, from my perspective, had been badly closed.

I left too fast last time. And although no one complained of anything, disorder even when it is silent

has always been intolerable to me.

That’s why I approached. Because leaving without greeting, without acknowledging, without accepting a defeat with my head held high, was not for me. Not with the man I am. Not with the entrepreneur I’ve built

over the years.

When I said congratulations, I didn’t do it from resentment or memory. I did it as one congratulates an equal. To a colleague. Someone who has done his job well.

That was important to me as well.

And my question was not personal, although it may seem so. I wasn’t interested in knowing if Clara planned to stay for emotional reasons, or if New York meant something more to her than a strategic city. I wanted to know how much I should adjust my board.

If she was going to be here, if her company was going to grow in this market, then I had to sharpen mine

as well. It’s that simple.

Nothing more.

That was what I repeated to myself… even after she left.

I returned to the living room a few minutes later. The soft music, the measured conversations, the

calculated laughter. Everything remained the same. The world hadn’t stopped because I had talked to my

ex-wife in a hallway.

Vanessa was the first to see me.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” she said, coming closer. “You told me you’d be busy.”

“They canceled a meeting,” I replied.

It was not entirely a lie. Nor the whole truth.

r

She nodded, as if that was enough, and took my arm immediately. Not shyly. With possession. That gesture she had always had, as if claiming space next to me was something natural.

I didn’t push her away.

From where we were, Clara was visible. Alexander was with her, talking to two other people. Vanessa

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fellowed my gaze effortlessly.

greeted her,” she said. “I talked to her for a moment.”

“I know,” I said. “Sodol.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“Yes. A brief greeting.”

Vanessa watched Clara carefully, then Alexander.

She didn’t wait for the music to drop or for someone to get far enough. She did it right there, between crystal glasses, laughter from others and conversations that did not belong to us. She turned slightly towards me, just enough so that her voice was only between us.

“Why did you talk to her?”

She did not raise her voice. There was no direct reproach. It was a question asked too calmly to be

innocent.

“It was a greeting,” I replied. “Nothing more.”

Vanessa cocked her head, watching me carefully.

“Was that what you wanted? Say hello?”

I took a sip of the champagne before answering. Not out of necessity. By control.

“It was the right thing to do.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t a satisfied smile. It was one of those that you use when you’re about to push a

little more.

“And what did you want to talk to her, Ethan?”

“I didn’t want to talk,” I clarified. “Simply… congratulate her.”

Vanessa barely frowned.

“Since when do you mind congratulating the competition?”

I didn’t respond right away. I looked into the room, at any point other than her face.

“It’s not about competition,” I said. “It’s all about professionalism.”

She let out a small, almost imperceptible laugh.

“Of course.”

She was silent for a few seconds. Enough for me to believe that she was done. She hadn’t.

“Now that you see her,” she continued, “do you feel that you were right to give her a divorce?”

Chaper

That’s when I looked at her.

“What’s that all about?”

Vanessa shrugged a shoulder, as if it were a casual curiosity.

“I’m just asking.”

She leaned a little more towards me.

“Do you still like her?”

The question was accompanied by a soft smile. Non-accusatory. Not desperate. Almost friendly. As if any of the answers could be acceptable… as long as it was honest.

I didn’t hesitate.

“No,” I said. “I… I don’t care about her.”

The words came out firm. Clear. Definitive.

I saw something on Vanessa’s face immediately relax. Her shoulders barely dropped, her expression changed. She smiled. This time yes, with real relief.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “Really.”

She rested her hand on my arm, squeezing it gently.

“Sometimes I thought that-” she paused. “Anyway.”

I didn’t finish the sentence for her. It was not necessary.

“Everything is in its place,” I added. “Everyone went their own way.”

Vanessa nodded.

“Then I have nothing to worry about.”

“No,” I answered. “You don’t have any.”

She raised her glass.

“Let’s toast then.”

We tapped the glass together with a clean, elegant sound. Correct.

She looks back at Clara and her companion, clears her throat, and says:

“I think the man with her is her partner,” she added. “They look… comfortable.”

I didn’t respond right away.

r

I looked over to where they were. Alexander moved naturally, making his way through the people. At one point, he rested his hand on Clara’s lower back to guide her. A brief gesture. Practical. Intimate without being ostentatious… I felt something, it wasn’t anger. It was a subtle discomfort, like a piece misplaced in

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a mechanism that had always worked

“Nothing serious, nothing that could not be ignored.

“Good for her,” I said at last. “I’m glad.”

My voice sounded firm. Convincing.

Vanessa looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

“She was able to rebuild her life,” she said. “You should do the same.”

I nodded.

“Perhaps I should.”

The phrase came out easy. Too easy.

Vanessa took a sip of her champagne and then looked at me with a seriousness I had rarely seen her

through.

“Are you really never going to look at me the way I expect you to?”

I looked at her

Not harshly. Not with evasion. With that uncomfortable honesty that always comes at the least opportune

moments.

“Vanessa,” I said quietly. “It is not the time. Nor is it the place to talk about it.”

She held my gaze for a few seconds. Then she smiled.

It was not a naïve smile. She was patient. Determined.

“Okay,” she replied. “If I have to wait for as long as it takes… I’m going to do it.”

She rested her hand on my arm again, gently.

“You know that. I’m always going to be here.”

I didn’t say anything.

I raised my glass and took a slow sip, while the music went on and the conversations continued around. From where I stood, I could see Clara laughing at something Alexander told her. She didn’t look in my direction. And although I repeated to myself that it didn’t matter, that everything was in order, that I was still in control… For the first time, that certainty was not absolute.

And that, more than any lost contract, was what really made me uncomfortable.

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