Chapter 8: Ghosts from the Past

Ethan leaned back in his chair, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. He had spent the past few days immersing himself in the company, working late into the night and arriving before sunrise. The pressure from the board, the declining numbers, and the gnawing guilt from his breakup with Ava all weighed heavily on him. Despite his efforts, nothing seemed to ease the tension in his chest.

The phone on his desk rang, interrupting his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID, expecting another call from the board or his mother, but instead, the name on the screen made his blood run cold: *Catherine Bellamy.*

He hadn't spoken to Catherine in over a year. Their relationship had ended on amicable terms, or so he had thought, but seeing her name now brought a flood of memories he wasn't prepared to confront. Ethan hesitated for a moment before picking up the phone.

"Catherine," he said, keeping his voice neutral, "this is a surprise."

"Hello, Ethan," Catherine replied, her voice smooth and warm, a tone that once would have put him at ease but now only made him wary. "It's been a while."

"Yes, it has. What's going on?" Ethan asked, cutting to the chase.

There was a brief pause on the other end, and when Catherine spoke again, her voice was laced with amusement. "I'm back in town. Your mother mentioned that the company's been having some trouble, and she thought it might be a good idea for us to meet up."

Ethan's grip on the phone tightened, anger flaring in his chest. He should have known. His mother had never approved of Ava and had made no secret of her preference for Catherine, a woman who came from the same world of privilege and influence. Ethan had always resisted the idea of rekindling things with his ex, but now it was clear that his mother was determined to push the issue.

"What did she tell you?" Ethan asked, his voice cold.

"Just that you've been under a lot of stress and could use some support," Catherine replied, her tone innocent. "I thought maybe we could grab dinner, catch up, and see if there's anything I can do to help."

Ethan clenched his jaw, the frustration of the past weeks bubbling to the surface. He knew his mother's game all too well, and he wasn't about to let her manipulate him into falling back into old patterns. But he also knew that turning Catherine away now, especially with the company in turmoil, would only add to the strain with his mother and the board.

"Fine," he said, his voice clipped. "Dinner. But this isn't about anything more than business."

"Of course," Catherine replied smoothly, though he could hear the underlying satisfaction in her voice. "I'll see you tonight, then."

---

Ethan arrived at the upscale restaurant his mother had suggested, the same one he had often visited with Catherine during their relationship. The place reeked of old money and power, a shrine to the elite world he was born into—a world that seemed to be closing in on him more tightly with each passing day.

As he walked inside, he spotted Catherine immediately. She was seated at a private corner table, her polished appearance a stark contrast to the raw, genuine warmth he had come to cherish in Ava. Catherine was the epitome of what his family expected of him—beautiful, poised, and with the right pedigree. But as he approached her, all he felt was a deep, hollow emptiness.

"Ethan," she greeted him with a smile, standing up to kiss him on the cheek. "You look as handsome as ever."

"Catherine," he replied stiffly, taking his seat across from her. "Let's get straight to the point. What exactly did my mother tell you?"

Catherine's smile didn't waver, but her eyes gleamed with something that made Ethan uneasy. "Ethan, we don't have to be so formal. We're old friends, after all. But if you insist—she's worried about you. She thinks that with everything going on at the company, you might be spreading yourself too thin. And, well… she mentioned that you've been seeing someone who might not be the best influence on you."

Ethan's stomach twisted with anger. "Ava has nothing to do with the problems at the company. And frankly, it's none of your or my mother's business."

Catherine raised an eyebrow, a delicate gesture that had once charmed him but now only irritated him. "I'm not here to judge, Ethan. But you have to admit, things were simpler before. You were focused, driven. We were a good team, you and I."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "That was a long time ago. Things are different now."

"They don't have to be," she said softly, leaning in. "I've always believed in you, Ethan. And I think your mother is right—you need someone by your side who understands the pressure you're under, who can help you navigate the complexities of this world. I'm offering to be that person again."

Ethan leaned back in his chair, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He didn't have the energy to play this game, to fend off the manipulations of his mother and Catherine while also dealing with the crisis at the company. But the thought of going back to a life dictated by expectations and convenience, of sacrificing the passion and connection he had found with Ava, filled him with a deep sense of dread.

"Catherine," he began, his voice firm, "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not interested in going back to what we had. I'm not that person anymore, and I don't think you are either."

Her smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly. "I see. Well, the offer stands, Ethan. You know where to find me if you change your mind."

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of polite conversation, but Ethan's mind was elsewhere. He kept thinking about Ava—how she would react if she knew about this dinner, about the way his mother was trying to manipulate his life. The guilt gnawed at him, knowing that he was caught in a web of expectations that were slowly suffocating him.

---

Later that night, Ethan returned to his empty penthouse, the silence almost deafening. He poured himself a drink and stood by the window, looking out at the city lights that stretched endlessly before him. The view was a constant reminder of his success, of everything he had built. But tonight, it all felt meaningless.

He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over Ava's contact. He hadn't spoken to her since their last conversation, and the silence between them was like a wound that refused to heal. He wanted to call her, to tell her everything that had happened, to apologize for the way things had turned out.

But he hesitated, the weight of his mother's words, Catherine's offer, and the pressure of the company all bearing down on him. He knew that calling Ava now, bringing her back into his chaotic life, would only put her in the crossfire of the storm that was brewing. And as much as he wanted to hear her voice, to be near her, he couldn't bear the thought of dragging her down with him.

With a heavy heart, Ethan put his phone down and took a long sip of his drink. The taste was bitter, like the choices he had made. He stared out at the city, feeling more alone than ever, as the reality of his life closed in around him.

In the darkness of his penthouse, Ethan realized that the battles he was fighting weren't just against the external pressures of his family and the company—they were battles within himself, between the man he wanted to be and the man he was expected to become.

And as the night stretched on, he couldn't help but wonder if he was already losing the war.