Broken Beyond Repair: To Win Back my Ex-Wife

Hudson Davis. Hudson Davis. Hudson Davis

"Hazel? Are you all right?" Brooks inquires, his hand resting on my shoulder. I was unable to respond to him. I'm too stunned to speak or even move.

I return my gaze to the man who broke my heart five years ago. I adored him without reservation—the man who betrayed me. I still have feelings for him.

He's dressed formally in a white button-up shirt and black dress pants. He's wearing a tie and looks much better than I remember him. He's laughing and waving to the cheering crowd.

"Hazel?" Brooks calls again, this time shaking me.

"I need to leave," I say something, but it just comes out as a whisper.

"But it's only just started." He states.

I start running out of the crowded ball. As I run into them, some people curse at me. I'm not even sorry. All I want to do is get out of here. I hear Brooks calling my name, but I ignore him and exit.

I take a deep breath as I lean against the brick wall in the parking lot. Unwanted tears begin to flow from my eyes and down my cheek. I cup my hands about my face and start to son. Why am I crying at all? Why am I squandering my tears on him?

I can't believe I just witnessed him. After all these years, I see him while attempting to move on from him and his memories. What if he noticed me? Oh no! That is not possible. He shouldn't be able to see me. He shouldn't do that.

"Hazel!" Someone shakes me and pulls me out of my thoughts. I raise my head to see Brooks. Why can't he leave me alone!?

"Are you all right? What happened?" He inquires, his hand still resting on my shoulder. Angrily, I pushed it away.

"None of your business," I yelled at him and walked towards my car.

"Hazel?" I hear it again, and my heart sinks into my stomach as I turn around to holler at him. It's not Brooks, but it's the only man I've been afraid to meet.

Hudson.

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Hudson's Point of View

I put on my white shirt and black dress pants that I had packed for this charity ball to which I had been invited. I tied a tie around my neck and buttoned my shirt, leaving the top button open. I love my hair in a quiff as I leave my room in New York City's most costly hotel.

Roman Enterprises, owned by one of my pals, is hosting the charity gala. After much deliberation about whether or not to go, I chose to go. After all, I paid a lot of money for it.

The black R8 is waiting for me at the hotel's entrance, and I walk out the hotel's doors. My driver, Carson, opened the door for me, and I slid in. As Carson began to drive, I took out my phone. I noticed a text message from my mother.

Mother: Please call me back, honey. Please.

I disregard the text message and check my email. A new email from my assistant states she has scheduled a meeting with Jace, my friend, for this Friday afternoon. Jace is both a friend and the COO of my company. He handles business with Asian countries. I respond to her, then turn off my phone and gaze out the window at the lights of New York City.

"Sir, we are here." After a few minutes of the car ride, Carson says, and I nod. He exited the car, walked around, and unlocked my door. Cameras flash as I get out of the car, blinding me for a split second.

"Mr.Horan!" I can hear folks yelling my name. I come to a halt and wave at them before going inside.

Mr. Carter greets me and gives me a half-hug. His wife also hugged me, and I nodded.

"Welcome, Mr. Horan." They both say the same thing.

"Am I running late?" I inquire, even though I don't mind being late.

"No, no. It's only just begun." Mr. Carter claims. I give a quiet nod.

"Let's go?" He directs the procession to the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you all. Mr. Hudson Davis, our special guest tonight," a man exclaimed. People cheer for me, and I wave back.

I look around at the various types of people in the crowd. A few couples are kissing and dancing while others are conducting business. My gaze is drawn to a man with curly hair jogging behind a woman in a short black dress. I hear him calling her by name, but I'm unsure what it is. As a good human, I exit the stage, apologize, and walk behind the curly man. Going behind them is just an excuse to get out of here as soon as possible.

"Are you all right? What happened?" I hear something on the other side of the wall and go that way.

"None of your business." The young lady snaps at him. Feisty. The voice looks familiar, and my heart skips when I see who it is.

"Hazel?" Unsure, I say.

She looks around, her expression filled with rage. But her beautiful brown eyes widen when they meet my blue orbs. Her lips open as though to utter something, but nothing comes out.

I discovered her, the love of my life. I found the person whose heart I had broken. I finally found her.