Chapter 2 Noah's Regret

Noah Callahan stood at the edge of his office window, gazing out at the city skyline amid a sea of shimmering lights. It was late, and the tranquil seclusion within was a great cry from the bustle of New York City outside. Watching the automobiles zigzag through the streets below, their headlights like fire streaks in the darkness, he felt the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.

An entire year had passed since Eliza left his life. Their marriage had fallen apart a year earlier due to his carelessness, conceit, and erroneous notion that he could have it all. But now, as he stood there, his thoughts kept returning to her-her absence, the void in their bed, the quiet that had taken the place of the warmth and joy she had once given him.

"God," Noah whispered to himself, his fingers clutching the glass's edge as though it would somehow bring him back to the present. His motivations had always been control, power, and success. But he didn't fully get what it would be like to lose something-or someone-more valuable than money until Eliza left.

He was now beginning to see how completely he had messed everything up.

In a fruitless attempt to forget her, he had pushed himself into a haze of work and diversions over the past few months. However, he couldn't avoid it or ignore the persistent feeling that he had let her elude him. From the inside out, that concept had gnawed, grown, and festered.

Disorganised from the long workdays and the growing stress that had been building inside of him for months, he ran a hand through his dark hair. Every deal seemed like a war he was losing, his competitors were closing in, and the board was on his back about expansion. But that was nothing compared to the hollow pit in his chest, where Eliza had once been.

A murmur, an occasional rumour, had been the beginning. Lately, however, the murmurs had turned into roars. He had heard about Eliza's ascent in the fashion industry, how she had built an empire out of her broken marriage, and how her name had become a byword for style and success. Initially a modest storm, it was now indisputable. He was dying because Eliza had created something amazing without him, without his resources, and his connections.

Noah's concentration wavered as he looked at the pile of papers on his desk. He had recently inked a significant contract that would expand his business's presence in the European market and be very profitable. However, Noah couldn't get Eliza out of his head as he gave his helper the documents.

In his life, she had been the spark that illuminated every space they walked into. However, he had assumed that. He had believed that she would always be devoted to him and that her love would endure forever. He had been mistaken.

Over his face, he dragged a palm and mumbled, "Damn it."

Now, her name was screaming in the headlines: self-made fashion tycoon Eliza Callahan. From the bottom up, she had created an empire and a brand that had shocked critics and rivals alike. Noah was aware of the images, the interviews, and the articles. All of them depicted her as a lady who had risen from the ruins more powerful, stronger, and more radiant than before.

When he saw her name in the headlines, he couldn't help but feel proud. It was something far worse than jealousy. I'm sorry. He felt remorse for all the time he had taken her for granted. He lamented the late hours spent at work, the unfulfilled promises, and the distance that had snuck up on them like a silent murderer.

However, the business honours weren't the only thing that hurt. It was that Eliza was no longer there. She had created a life for herself apart from him. The fires of her metamorphosis were now burning him, for she had risen like a phoenix from the ashes of their marriage.

Noah was aware of the gossip regarding her new life. He had overheard rumours about her new relationships and brief references to strong men in her life, individuals who could provide her with opportunities that he was never able to. He wasn't sure how much of it was real, but the idea of another man standing next to her, adoring her, and touching her made his stomach turn.

Noah didn't have to look up to see who it was as his office door cracked open. Emily, his assistant, entered with a thin file in her hands.

With a clipped tone, she said, "You have a visitor." With his gaze firmly focused on the metropolis below, Noah ignored her.

His voice was low and weary as he continued, "Emily, I'm not interested in any meetings tonight."

Emily said, "It's not a meeting, Noah," with a note of worry in her voice. "It's her."

He felt the words strike him like a blow to his chest. Everything appeared to pause for a moment as his heart thumped in his chest. Eliza. Anger, regret, and longing surged through him at the mere mention of the word.

His face was keen, bewildered, and surprised as he whirled around. "Eliza?" His voice broke a little, revealing the composed manner he had been frantically attempting to keep.

Emily nodded slightly to him. "She is present. She persisted even after I informed her that you were occupied.

An adrenaline rush rushed through Noah's chest. What was it she desired? Was she there to make a point? To demonstrate to him how far ahead she had come? He didn't know.

Nothing could have prepared him for what would happen when he met her again, even though his mind was racing with a hundred possible outcomes.

As Emily moved aside to let Eliza enter the room, his heart thumped in his ears. Noah was momentarily unable to breathe. The doorway framed her as she stood there, her presence breaking into the quiet of his well-planned life like a storm. Her dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders, and her gaze was enigmatic and composed. She was more lovely than he had remembered.

She had changed appearance. More powerful. More assured. And it was the thing that struck him the most, damn it.

"Eliza," he said in a scarcely discernible whisper.

She took a while to reply. Rather, she searched the room, her jaw tensing as she absorbed the luxury of his office, the world she had been a part of but had now left behind, the life he had created.

Before she spoke, her eyes briefly locked with his, and her lips parted. With a cold, collected tone, she said, "I heard you were in town, Noah." "I wanted to come visit you."

Her presence momentarily paralysed Noah, causing his past to flash before his eyes. She had changed; she was no longer the same person he had known. Someone who had lived through him. And he had never experienced anything more agonising than that realisation.

But Eliza had more to do.

As she entered the room, her heels clicking with each purposeful stride, she said, "I'm here for a reason." He no longer frightened her. There was nothing more for her to lose.

Noah's throat became dry as his pulse accelerated. Why had she come here? The response can destroy him or save him.

Every second that went by made the space feel smaller, and as Eliza's eyes met his, he became aware of one thing:

This was more than a simple visit. It was time to face up.