Divorced by the CEO, He Regrets it

Ten.

Tiffany's POV

I woke before the sun came up, the way I always did before something important.

My grandmother's letter sat folded on the nightstand where I'd left it the night before. I picked it up carefully, reading it slowly in the dim light, the paper soft from years of handling.

You were never meant to inherit comfort, Tiffany. You were meant to earn respect. Never forget the difference.

I had cried the first dozen times I read those words. This time I just smiled, tracing my thumb over her handwriting.

"Thank you," I whispered to the empty room, "for believing in me even when I stopped believing in myself."

I tucked the letter into my handbag and headed for the dressing room, standing in front of the wardrobe for longer than I meant to.

On one side hung the soft, simple clothes I had worn for five years, sweaters and jeans, nothing that ever drew attention.

On the other, still wrapped in garment bags, the suits I hadn't touched since before my wedding.

"You've been standing there for ten minutes."

I turned. Austin leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm thinking."

"You didn't think this hard in college, and that was over which grad school to attend."

"This is different."

"Clearly." He walked in, glancing over the wardrobe. "You're overthinking a suit, Tiff."

"I'm blaming you for interrupting my concentration."

"Sure you are." His voice softened as he looked at the row of charcoal and navy hanging untouched for years.

"Whichever one you pick, you're going to walk in there looking exactly like the CEO everyone's been waiting for."

I let out a breath. "I'm nervous."

"About the board?"

"About her." I reached out and touched the sleeve of one of the suits.

"The woman I left behind five years ago. I'm about to face her again, and I don't know if I even remember how to be her."

Austin's expression gentled. "Nobody at Callisto remembers you as someone who quit, Tiffany. They remember the woman who built that company standing shoulder to shoulder with her grandmother. That person never disappeared. She was just waiting."

Something in his voice steadied me more than I expected. I reached for the charcoal-grey suit without hesitating again.

"That one," I said. "That one feels right."

He smiled like he'd known all along.

When I came downstairs twenty minutes later, blazer fitted, hair pulled back, heels clicking against the marble, Austin nearly dropped his coffee cup.

"Wow." He set it down slowly, staring. "Okay. I suddenly feel very underdressed standing next to you."

I laughed, smoothing a hand down the front of the blazer.

"Do I really look that different?"

"It's not the clothes." He studied me for a beat too long, something warm behind his eyes. "It's what's in them. The way you're standing. That's the difference."

We sat down for breakfast, and for once neither of us brought up David at all. It felt strange, talking about ordinary things, but good strange. The kind of normal I hadn't felt in years.

"So," Austin said, buttering toast that wasn't burnt this time, "what's the first thing Tiffany Callahan-Reyes does when she walks back into her own company?"

"Nothing, at first."

He looked up. "Nothing?"

"I'm going to listen. All day, if I have to. I'm not walking back in there to throw my weight around just because I finally can."

"That's exactly why they're going to respect you the second you walk through the door."

I smiled down at my plate, but before I could answer, my phone rang. Mr. Reynolds.

"Miss Callahan-Reyes." His voice carried an energy I hadn't heard from him before. "Every board member has already arrived. Several senior executives came in early too, word's spread that someone important is visiting today."

My stomach tightened. "Has my return been announced?"

"No, only the board knows the truth. Everyone else just knows something significant is happening." A pause, warmer this time. "The company's been waiting years for this day, ma'am."

I thanked him and ended the call, setting the phone down slowly.

"You okay?" Austin asked, watching me closely.

I nodded, though the tension must have shown on my face because he didn't look convinced.

"Second thoughts?"

"No." I shook my head, meeting his eyes. "I'm just realizing there's no turning back after today. Once I walk through those doors, Tiffany Callahan-Reyes exists in the open.

There's no version of my life after this where I get to disappear again."

"Would you want to?"

"No," I said, and I meant it. "I'm just letting it settle."

He reached across the table and squeezed my hand once, brief and steady. "Then let's go make it official."

He insisted on walking me down to the car, ignoring every comment I made about him acting like an overprotective bodyguard.

"I'm serious, Austin, I think I can manage the lobby by myself."

"Humor me."

We stood beside the car while the chauffeur held the door open, and Austin turned to face me, his expression suddenly serious.

"You don't have to carry any of this alone anymore, Tiff. Not the company, not David, none of it. You've got people who actually want to see you win."

"Thank you," I said quietly, "for staying through the worst week of my life."

"I'd make the same choice every time." He said it simply, like it wasn't even a question worth debating, and something about the certainty in his voice settled deep in my chest.

I slid into the car, and he shut the door behind me, stepping back as the chauffeur pulled away from the curb.

Singapore moved past the window in streaks of morning light, streets I'd once driven every single day before I folded myself into someone smaller to keep a marriage that was never going to save itself. I watched it all pass, feeling something unclench slowly in my chest with every mile.

Then the building came into view. Callisto Holdings Group stood exactly as I remembered it, glass and steel catching the early sun, the name etched into stone at the entrance like it had been waiting patiently for me to come back and claim it.

My heart picked up as the car slowed outside the executive entrance. I stepped out onto the pavement, smoothing my hands down the front of my blazer, and lifted my eyes to the building that had once felt like my second home.

A small, steady smile spread across my face.

"It feels good to be back."