Oops! I Ruined His Life Back - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

"Sydney!" Charles's face lit up the moment he spotted me, and he practically sprinted across the pavement like a man possessed.
I didn't move an inch—just watched him come. Six months. That's all it took for him to go from polished corporate prince to... this.
His hair was a mess, dark circles carved under his eyes, exhaustion clinging to him like a bad habit.
"Sydney, I finally found you," he choked out, voice trembling. "Please—just one minute. Let me explain."
I crossed my arms and gave a slight nod. Go ahead.
"I'm sorry," he blurted, tripping over the words. "God, I was so wrong. I didn't even know about the car accident until Hunter called me. If I'd known—"
He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "I ended things with Jenna. She's gone. I swear. Can you... just tell me there's a chance?" His eyes begged mine, desperate for any scrap of hope.
"Apology accepted."
That was it. I stepped around him and headed for my car.
"Sydney! Wait! I can't—" His voice cracked, but I didn't look back.
As I pulled out, the rearview mirror caught him frozen in place, shrinking into the distance like some tragic figure in a country song.
I sighed and popped a mint from the console. The nausea had been creeping up, but the cool burst helped.
Six months ago, this man could wreck me with a single sentence. Now? Now I saw right through him.
He didn't miss me. He missed the convenience. His apology wasn't for my sake—it was to quiet his own guilty conscience.
Some things can't be fixed.
But Charles? Charles didn't get the memo.
Next morning, there he was—camped outside my office building like some lovesick extra from a Hallmark movie.
"Sydney!" He sprang up like a puppy spotting its owner. "Good morning! I made breakfast—still warm!" He thrust out a lunchbox, face practically shining with pathetic hope.
I eyed the box, then him. "You got a health certificate?"
He blinked. "What?"
"A health certificate," I deadpanned. "No way I'm eating anything you cooked."
The way his face crumpled was almost comical. Shock. Hurt. Confusion. But I didn't stick around for the sob story.
I breezed past him into the building.
Whatever redemption arc Charles thought he was starring in? Didn't matter. I was done with his empty gestures and rehearsed lines. Done letting him waste my oxygen.
"Keep an eye out for loiterers," I told the front desk. "If someone's hanging around suspiciously, don't wait—call security."
This wasn't Tianara. In Altherra, people didn't debate threats—they handled them. Charles wouldn't risk it.
For a while, things stayed quiet. I'd spot him sometimes—lurking near coffee shops, pretending he wasn't staring. As long as he kept his distance, I pretended not to see.
Then he crossed the line.
Came home early one afternoon to find him loitering outside my villa like some stalker in a Lifetime movie.
Some women might find that romantic. I found it creepy.
The second he saw me, his whole face lit up and he rushed over—no caution this time.
"Sydney, please—just talk to me," he stammered, nerves practically vibrating off him.
I exhaled hard, not wanting a scene for the neighbors. "Fine. Talk."
I dragged him to a dessert shop nearby. Sitting across from him felt surreal—like staring at a bad AI imitation of someone I used to know.
The second our orders arrived, he launched in, words spilling like he'd practiced in the mirror.
"I know I ruined everything," he rasped, hands twitching on the table. "Please. Six years, Sydney. Doesn't that mean anything?"
His fingers inched toward mine. I yanked my hand back before he could touch me—pure reflex.