Years passed quickly, filled with hard work and winning. My small online jewelry shop had grown into a huge company called Hilly Enterprises. My name was on tall office buildings and whispered with respect in important meetings all over the world. My name, Celeste Hilly, no longer brings feelings of shame. Instead, it brought feelings of great power and respect. The girl who once thought her worth came from a man's love had become a woman known for her own big empire. This was my normal life now – the soft sound of success, the quiet peace of my fancy apartment looking over a city that seemed to do what I wanted. Damian Nellie was far away, almost forgotten, a faded pain in a dusty part of my memory.
Sometimes, I hear little bits of news through people in my business. Whispers about Damian and Bianca's fancy life, then problems starting, and the hard treatment he was receiving from Bianca. Talk about bad money choices, and their company almost failing. I didn't pay much attention. It was just noise to me, not as important as my own big wins. If they were truly falling apart, it was just the world slowly fixing things, and I didn't need to watch or help or rather, it was none of my business. I always looked forward, always thinking about the next big deal, the next time I could make my company bigger.
Then, an email appeared in my inbox.
It was from a name I hadn't seen in over ten years, a name that made my blood turn cold, then hot. Damian Nellie. The subject line was very clear: "Meeting Request."
I stared at it. My finger hovered over the mouse, and my hand shook a little, a feeling I hadn't had in years. It was weird, like a strange planet crashing into my perfectly organized world. He was supposed to stay in the past, a painful memory I had gotten rid of long ago. This wasn't just a random meeting; this was something wrong.
My personal assistant, Liam, a smart man who always knew what I needed, cleared his throat. "Ms. Hilly? Is everything okay?"
"Fine," I snapped, making myself delete the email without opening it. No. I wouldn't give him even a tiny bit of my time.
But he didn't give up. A special letter arrived, then many calls to my work phone, which my staff quickly stopped. Finally, a desperate message got through to my voicemail. His voice was shaky and sad, nothing like the proud man who had broken my world.
"Celeste," his voice was rough, broken, "please. I know I have no right. But I... I have nowhere else to go. Everything is gone. Bianca left. I'm... I'm ruined. Just five minutes. Please. I just need to explain."
The sound of his voice, without its old confidence, truly shocked me. This wasn't the Damian who had walked away with his head held high for a rich life. This was a shadow, a ghost of his old self, broken and needing help. Damian needs help? This was the unexpected thing that broke down the strong emotional walls I had built around myself. It forced me to face a past I had tried so hard to bury. The past wasn't happy to stay a memory; it was here, knocking on my door, asking to be let in.