Chapter 176 From the Past
The morning sun filtered through the tall glass windows of the London hotel lobby. The marble floors gleamed under the soft light, and the hum of voices blended with the sound of clinking coffee cups.
Anabelle stood near the reception desk, her tablet in one hand and her assistant, Clara, by her side. She was dressed in a sleek cream suit, her hair tied in a neat bun, her expression calm but focused. She was scheduled for a meeting with a major investor that afternoon.
“Your car is ready, Ms. Hayes,” Clara said, glancing at her phone.
Anabelle nodded. “Thank you, Clara. Please make sure the presentation files are synced to my drive. I’ll review them in the car.”
Clara smiled. “Already done.”
Anabelle gave a small nod and began walking toward the exit. Her heels clicked sharply on the marble floor, echoing softly through the lobby. She was halfway to the door when a voice stopped her.
“Anabelle?”
The sound of her name—spoken with hesitation—made her turn. A man stood by one of the lobby’s sitting areas. His suit was wrinkled, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. His hair was greying at the edges, and his face carried the marks of worry and exhaustion.
She blinked in surprise. “Nathan?”
He gave a weak smile. “You remember me.”
“Of course,” she said slowly. “Carson’s old business partner. It’s been… years.”
“More than five,” Nathan said, walking closer. His shoes were scuffed, and his once-confident stride was now uncertain. “I wasn’t sure you’d even recognize me.”
Anabelle looked at him quietly. “You look different,” she said gently.
He laughed bitterly. “So do you. Except you’re… glowing. Success suits you.”
Anabelle smiled faintly but didn’t reply. There was a heavy silence between them before she asked, “What are you doing here, Nathan?”
He sighed and rubbed his neck. “Trying to rebuild. I had a meeting with a small investor. I thought I could pitch something new, but it didn’t go well.” His eyes dropped. “They don’t trust me. Not after what happened with Carson.”
Anabelle’s expression softened. “I see.”
“I heard about you,” Nathan continued. “Your designs are everywhere. You’re on magazine covers, winning awards. It’s good to see someone from back then doing well.”
She nodded, her face calm. “It wasn’t easy.”
He looked up at her, his eyes weary. “Carson… he lost everything, didn’t he?”
Anabelle’s gaze drifted for a moment. “Yes,” she said softly. “His family name, his company—everything.”
Nathan exhaled slowly. “I suppose it was bound to happen. He ignored everyone’s advice. When the signs came, he thought he was too powerful to fall.”
Anabelle looked at him closely. “And you?”
Nathan gave a hollow laugh. “I followed him. I believed in him. And when the house fell, I was standing inside.” He sank into a nearby chair, running his fingers through his hair. “You know, he used to talk about you sometimes. Said you were ambitious. Said you’d stop at nothing.”
Her lips curved slightly. “Did he?”
“Yeah,” Nathan said. “But not with admiration. He was angry that you didn’t come running back. I think it hurt his pride more than he admitted.”
Anabelle stayed silent for a moment. “People like Carson never admit what hurts them. They just destroy everything around them.”
Nathan nodded. “You’re right. He destroyed a lot.” His voice dropped lower. “I went to see him once after everything fell apart. He was in a small apartment, half-empty. He barely opened the door.”
Anabelle’s chest tightened slightly. “How did he look?”
“Broken,” Nathan said simply. “Like someone who didn’t recognize his own reflection anymore.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The noise of the hotel lobby faded into the background. Clara stood a few feet away, pretending to check her phone, but she was clearly listening.
Anabelle finally said, “We all make choices, Nathan. Some learn from them, some don’t.”
Nathan gave a tired smile. “You learned.”
“I had to,” she replied quietly. “I didn’t have the luxury of falling apart.”
He looked at her with a mix of regret and admiration. “You remind me of what I could’ve been if I’d left when I had the chance.”
Anabelle gave a faint smile. “It’s never too late to start again.”
Nathan shook his head. “For me, maybe it is. But you—” He paused, looking at her intently. “Don’t forget what it’s like to be human in all this success. You have something rare, Anabelle. Don’t lose it.”
Her eyes softened. “Thank you.”
He rose slowly. “It was good seeing you. Really good.”
“You too,” she said sincerely.
He nodded once, adjusted his worn-out jacket, and walked away. As he disappeared through the revolving doors, Anabelle stood still, her thoughts heavy.
Clara stepped forward. “Do you know him well?”
“Once,” Anabelle said quietly. “He used to be close to Carson.”
Clara frowned. “He looked… lost.”
Anabelle nodded. “He is.” She turned toward the glass wall, where the city stretched out under the bright sky. “He’s what happens when pride wins over reason.”
Clara didn’t respond, but her eyes followed Anabelle’s.
A car horn honked softly outside, breaking the silence. The driver stood waiting by the black sedan.
Anabelle inhaled deeply and adjusted her bag. “Let’s go, Clara. We’re already late.”
They walked toward the exit, the sound of her heels returning, sharp and steady. But in her mind, Nathan’s face stayed. His weary eyes. His voice when he said Carson was broken.
In the car, as the city passed by in a blur of glass and color, Anabelle leaned her head back. For the first time in a long while, she felt a pang of sadness—not for Carson exactly, but for the wasted potential, the ruin he had brought on himself.
Clara spoke softly beside her. “Are you all right?”
Anabelle smiled faintly. “Yes. Just thinking.”
“About him?” Clara asked carefully.
Anabelle’s eyes turned to the window. “About choices,” she said simply. “And how they define everything.”
The car drove on, leaving behind the hotel and the ghost of the past she had just encountered. Yet deep down, Anabelle knew that no matter how far she went, some shadows never completely disappeared.