He Left Me at the Altar for His First Love, I Ruined Him Chapter 10

He Left Me at the Altar for His First Love, I Ruined Him Chapter 10

Three years later.

Northwood, late autumn.

I stood at the studio windows, watching ginkgo leaves drift past the glass.

The coffee in my hand was still steaming.

“Ms. Hayes, the interview is in twenty minutes.”

My assistant slipped in with a folder.

“I know.”

I took it and leafed through.

Three years in Northwood. I’d rebuilt from nothing.

I’d always been among the best in the business.

A few last-minute saves for high-profile clients, and word got around fast.

I’d held myself back for years, stayed small, stayed close. All for Elias.

Without him draining me, everything came together.

Now I was one of the top celebrity stylists in the country.

As for Elias.

I heard the company had collapsed. Creditors were circling.

Stella had hung around long enough to talk him into selling his last

car.

The night the money hit his account, she vanished.

He’d borrowed from everyone. He’d even crawled back to people who’d once looked down on him.

Every door closed in his face.

Mrs. Sterling had a stroke when the bankruptcy hit. She’d been bedridden ever since.

He was working three jobs, taking care of his mother alone, living like a ghost.

“Ms. Hayes, there’s someone here to see you.”

The receptionist hurried in, looking uneasy.

“He doesn’t have an appointment. I’ve tried to send him away, but he won’t go.”

“Who is it?”

I put down the coffee.

“He says his name is Elias.”

Something flickered in my chest. Then it passed.

“Let him in.”

The door opened.

Elias stood in the doorway.

A faded jacket, washed completely out of shape. His hair was greasy.
He’d lost so much weight his clothes hung off him like they belonged to someone else.

The Elias who used to walk into a room like he owned it.

Now he looked like he’d been sleeping in his car.

When he saw me, his eyes filled right away.

“Clara…”

His voice cracked on my name.

I stayed behind my desk.

“What can I do for you?”

I said it the way you’d talk to a cold caller.

Elias stepped closer. He looked like a man about to beg.

“I’ve been paying back what I owe you.”

He pulled a crumpled envelope from his jacket and set it on the desk.

“The rest, I’ll send what I can every month.”

I didn’t look at the envelope.

“If this is about the money, you can leave it with accounting.”

I glanced at my watch.

“I still have a meeting.”

“Clara, I was wrong.”

His knees gave out, and he collapsed to the floor.

Tears ran down his hollowed-out face and hit the floor.

“Three years. I’ve regretted it every single day.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t see what I was doing to you.”

He was sobbing now, ugly, broken sobs.

“You weren’t low-maintenance. I made you that way. I crushed every feeling you had until you stopped showing them.”

“The dress. The brooch. The house. City Hall. Every time. Every single time. I chose her.”

“I thought marrying you was doing you a favor.”

“It took losing everything to see it. For seven years, you carried me. And I threw you away with my own hands.”

“Let me try again. Please.”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right. I swear.”

I looked at him kneeling there, stripped of everything he’d ever had.

I waited for something to move inside me.

No satisfaction. No pity.

Just nothing. Like looking at someone I’d never met.

“Mr. Sterling.”

I stood, and for the first time in seven years, I was the one looking

down.

“You’re in my guest’s way.”

Elias looked up at me. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

The door opened behind him.

Julian walked in. Well-dressed, unhurried, two theater tickets in his hand.

My partner.

Nothing like Elias.

He respected every choice I made.

“Clara, dinner after the interview?”

His smile was easy and warm.

“Okay.”

I picked up my coat and walked to him.

I walked past Elias without a glance.

Julian handed me my ticket. We walked out together.

Behind us, from the office, came the sound of a man trying not to cry.

I didn’t turn around.

Outside, the sun was warm.

A life without Elias. I’d forgotten how light it could feel.