Double Regrets: My Boyfriend Is My Ex’s Boss

She knew her.

Kindergarten. Leo's class. The little one with the braids. Lily.

Now Lily had Amelia's pinky in her sticky fist and was calling her Mommy in front of four hundred people.

"Lily," Amelia whispered. "Sweetie, I'm not - "

"Lily."

A man's voice. From a few tables back.

Deep.

Too deep. Too familiar.

Every hair on Amelia's arms stood straight up.

The room went dead quiet.

"Oh my God - is that - "

"It's Alexander Blackwood."

"The Chairman. THE Blackwood."

"His name is on the building - "

"He hasn't come to one of his own galas in three years."

Lily tugged her finger. "Come on, Mommy. Daddy wants us."

Amelia couldn't move.

Because she was twenty-eight years old. She had cream dripping off her chin. The wedding ring on her left hand had just stopped meaning anything.

And across four tables - just four tables - was the boy who had walked out on her six years ago.

Six years.

No note. No call. No goodbye.

Alexander Blackwood.

* * *

She made herself look.

Slow. So slow.

And there he was.

God, there he was.

Taller. Broader. The jaw she used to trace with her thumb in the front seat of his old Honda. The light in his eyes had gone far sharper than before. His hair was shorter. A suit that cost more than her car.

He was looking at her.

Right at her.

A tiny crease between his eyebrows. Head tilted half an inch. One beat of stillness - just one - that was a beat too long for a stranger.

Then his eyes narrowed.

Just slightly.

Like the shape of her had rung a bell somewhere in the back of his head, and he couldn't quite -

No.

Amelia saw it cross his face. The doubt. The disappointment.

His jaw tightened. He looked away.

She knew that look. He had just vanished from her world back then, and she had searched for him everywhere. She'd worn it herself a hundred times - when a stranger on the street had a familiar walk or a familiar laugh and her heart had stupidly leapt and her brain had said no, it can't be, it can't be him.

Now he was telling himself the same thing.

It can't be her. She's somewhere else. She's fine. She has a good life.

And Amelia - twenty-eight years old, with cream in her hair and a son who'd just disowned her on live camera - looked at the boy who'd left her at twenty-two and thought:

Please. Please don't recognize me.

Not like this.

* * *

His head tilted another quarter inch.

His lips parted.

Amelia ripped her finger out of Lily's sticky fist.

"Mommy - "

She didn't hear the rest.

She turned, and she ran.

Her heel caught on the marble. She kicked the shoe off. Then the other one.

She ran barefoot across the ballroom of Blackwood Tower with cream in her hair and strawberry on her collar, and the only sound behind her was a child.

"Mommy! Mommy wait - Mommy don't go - MOMMY - "

Lily's voice. Screaming. Only Lily's.

Nobody else called after her.

Not Leo. Not Adrian. Not Seraphina.

Not a single grown adult in that ballroom opened their mouth.

Amelia hit the service elevator. Hit the garage. Hit the street.

And kept running.

* * *

Behind her, in the ballroom:

Alexander Blackwood stood very still for three seconds after the doors closed.

Watching the place where the strange woman had been standing.

The shape of her shoulders. The half-inch tilt of her chin when she'd looked at him.

For one breath - one stupid breath - he thought -

No.

He shut it down.

His Amelia was happy. His Amelia was loved. Six years and not a soul had told him otherwise.

Not this. Not a wreck of a woman with cake in her hair.

Not her.

He sat back down.

He did not look at the dais.

* * *

On the dais:

Adrian Hale let out a breath he had been holding for ninety seconds.

Seraphina's hand was cold in his. He squeezed it once. It's fine. It's over. She's gone.

He turned his mic back on. Gave the room his gala smile.

"My apologies for the interruption," he said smoothly. "A small misunderstanding. Please, enjoy your evening."

The room chuckled politely. The string quartet started up again.

Adrian crouched down to Leo. "Buddy. Come with Daddy. We need to find Mommy before she does something silly."

Leo's lower lip wobbled. "Is she mad at me?"

"She's just being dramatic, buddy. She'll feel better when she sees us."

Leo nodded - slow, serious. He reached up and took his father's hand.

"Aunt Sera shouldn't be sad on her party night," he said.

Adrian smiled. "You're a smart boy."

And father and son walked out of the ballroom together.

To bring Mommy home.

* * *