Chapter 9
Three years passed in the blink of an eye.
My company had become an industry leader, and my image as a single CEO mother made me the
target of countless eligible bachelors‘ attention.
But my heart remained focused solely on my career and my son, Noah. I hadn’t considered romantic entanglements since the divorce.
Noah was four now–bright, energetic, with a smile that mirrored mine.
After the divorce, I dedicated most of my free time to him, personally dropping him off and picking him up from preschool every day.
I’d carved out a special corner in my office filled with his toys and artwork, making it easy for him to visit anytime.
“Mommy, when is Daddy coming to see me?” Noah suddenly looked up and asked, his eyes full of
anticipation.
I glanced at my phone calendar:
“The day after tomorrow is your birthday. Daddy will probably bring you a present.”
According to our divorce agreement, Ryker could visit Noah twice a month, never exceeding three
hours per visit.
In three years, he hadn’t missed a single appointment.
No matter how busy he was, he would appear punctually at the designated location.
He always brought thoughtfully chosen gifts, trying desperately to make up for his failings.
Despite my lingering resentment toward Ryker, I never prevented Noah from seeing him.
For my son’s healthy development, I maintained this connection.
Over these three years, Hampton Industries had gradually recovered under Ryker’s dedicated leadership.
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Chapter 9
Though smaller than before, the company was stable again.
Occasionally, we would encounter each other at business events–exchanging polite nods, nothing
more.
On Noah’s fourth birthday, I hosted a small party at home, inviting his friends and our nanny.
That afternoon, the doorbell rang.
I opened it to find Ryker standing there, holding an enormous wrapped box.
“Birthday present,” he said simply.
I accepted the gift with a slight nod.
“I’ll be back in exactly three hours.”
Ryker nodded, watching me leave with barely concealed longing in his eyes.
Throughout these three years, he’d repeatedly hinted at reconciliation through various channels.
At business functions, he would deliberately mention the good times we once shared.
After visiting Noah, he would linger a few extra minutes, searching for topics to extend our
conversation.
He even enlisted mutual friends to relay messages–that he still loved me, that he wanted to start
over.
I rejected every attempt.
Some things, once broken, can never be repaired.
My life now was fulfilling–a successful career, a happy, healthy son, and a rich, satisfying daily existence.
Compared to my former marriage, I lived more freely, more authentically.
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MUCID Munbind Ba
