Too Late For Regret, Mr. Sterling

Rain slid down the floor-to-ceiling window like tears.

Arden Price watched one drop blur the city lights into hazy stars. The champagne glass beside her remained untouched. Same temperature as her skin.

*Cold.*

Her wedding ring felt heavy tonight. Three years ago, no guests. No celebration. Just a judge, a contract, and one obligatory photograph.

The antique grandfather clock struck twelve.

Their third anniversary was officially over.

The door opened. Brenda, the housekeeper, entered with chamomile tea.

She didn't say a word. Her eyes said everything.

*Pity.*

Arden forced a smile. "Thank you, Brenda."

Her phone buzzed on the marble table. A news alert.

She picked it up.

The headline came from a gossip site, but the photo was heartbreakingly clear.

Julian. Her husband. At JFK's private terminal. His wool coat draped over a small, delicate woman, shielding her from the rain.

Arden's blood turned to ice.

*Sloane Kensington.*

The woman Julian truly loved. The one who got away.

Arden zoomed in on his face.

He was smiling. Not his sharp, corporate smile. A *soft* one. The kind she hadn't seen directed at her in three years.

The air left her lungs.

"Mrs. Sterling?" Brenda's voice was alarmed.

Arden slammed the phone face down on the table. The impact knocked over their wedding photo. Glass shattered on marble.

She knelt to pick up the shards. A sharp edge sliced her finger.

Blood. A single red drop on the white carpet.

She felt nothing.

Then—an engine. Low. Familiar.

*He came.*

Arden scrambled to the window.

A black SUV idled by the fountain.

The driver's door opened.

*Caleb.* Julian's assistant.

Not Julian.

The hope shattered.

A knock. Caleb entered, holding a massive orange Hermès box.

"Mrs. Sterling. Mr. Sterling sends his deepest apologies. An urgent M&A deal in Tokyo—"

"Where is he?"

Caleb's practiced smile didn't waver. But his eyes flickered.

*He knew.*

"Tokyo," he repeated.

Arden stared at him until he looked away.

Brenda took the box. Caleb fled.

The ribbon came undone with a whisper.

Arden lifted the lid.

A diamond necklace. Gaudy. Commercial. The price tag still attached.

*A consolation prize for a ghosted anniversary.*

She lifted it. Cold. Heavy. Lifeless.

With a cry of pure rage, she hurled it at the full-length mirror.

*Crack.*

A spiderweb of fractures spread across the glass. The necklace fell to the carpet with a dull thud.

She stared at her reflection in the broken mirror. Wild hair. Red-rimmed eyes. A bleeding finger.

*A stranger.*

She took a deep breath. Then another.

The pain in her chest receded.

Something else took its place.

*Resolve.*

She walked into her massive walk-in closet. Past the gowns Julian's stylists had picked for her. To the very back.

A black pantsuit. Severe. Tailored. *Perfect.*

She hung it on the valet stand.

She retrieved her phone. Her finger was still bleeding—a red smear across the screen.

She found Julian's contact.

She didn't delete it.

She silenced all his notifications.

She was done waiting for his world.

*It was time to re-enter her own.*