All Chapters of I’m Back, Mr. CEO : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

I didn’t go home.Instead, I have the Uber drop me off at the waterfront, where the city lights reflect off the black water like broken promises. It’s cold, the kind of October night that bites through my jacket, but I need it. I need something sharp to cut through the fog in my head.I find a bench facing the water and sit.*What the hell am I doing?*The question loops in my mind, over and over, like a song I can’t turn off.Adrian loves me. He said he loves me. Correction, he said he never stopped loving me, which is somehow worse because it means all those years, all that pain, he loved me while he destroyed me. What kind of love is that? What kind of person loves someone and lets them suffer the way he let me suffer?But then I hear his voice again, broken and raw: *Hurt people hurt people. Broken people break people.*Is that an excuse? Or is it just the truth?I pull my phone out, staring at Lucas’s text from earlier. Simple. Supportive. No drama. No grand declarations. Just, *

The doorbell rings at nine in the morning, and I seriously consider ignoring it.I’m still in my pajamas, my hair is a disaster, and I haven’t slept more than three hours. Every time I closed my eyes last night, I saw Adrian’s face, heard his voice saying *I love you* like it was a prayer and a confession all at once.The doorbell rings again. Persistent.“Mom, someone’s at the door!” Ethan yells from his room.“I know!” I yell back, shuffling toward the entrance in my fuzzy socks.I check the peephole and freeze.Lucas.Standing in my hallway with two coffee cups and a determined expression that somehow looks both adorable and terrifying.Oh God. I look like death. I’m wearing my oldest pajamas, the ones with the faded coffee stains, and I’m pretty sure there’s mascara smudged under my eyes from yesterday.“Serena, I know you’re looking through the peephole,” Lucas calls out, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “And I don’t care what you look like. Open the door.”“I’m not dressed

“You’re right.” Clara takes a breath, her voice softening. “Sorry, kiddo. Aunt Clara got a little heated.”“It’s okay.” Ethan looks at his father, then at me. “Dad’s been really good lately. He comes to my soccer games and helps with homework and doesn’t check his phone during dinner.”“That’s great, baby.” I smooth his hair back. “I’m really glad you two are spending time together.”“But,” Ethan continues, looking at Adrian with an expression far too serious for a nine year old, “being a good dad doesn’t mean you get to be Mom’s husband again. Those are different things.”Out of the mouths of babes.Adrian crouches down to Ethan’s level. “You’re absolutely right, buddy. And I’m not, I’m not trying to force anything. I’m just trying to show your mom that I’m sorry. That I’m different.”“Different how?” Clara interjects, unable to help herself. “Because from where I’m standing, you look like the same guy who let his mother humiliate Serena at every family gathering. The same guy who pa

Five days.I’ve given her five days of space, and it’s been the longest five days of my life.No texts except the occasional “good morning” that she responds to with a simple heart emoji. No calls. No coffee dates or spontaneous visits. Just silence and the gnawing fear that every minute I’m not with her, Adrian is filling the space I left empty.But I promised her time, and I’m a man who keeps his promises.Still, I’m not an idiot. Time doesn’t mean giving up. It means being strategic.“You’re sure about this?” My assistant, James, is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. “The coastal house? For the whole weekend?”“Positive.” I’m packing my overnight bag, throwing in casual clothes that Serena’s never seen me in. Jeans. T-shirts. The version of me that exists outside boardrooms. “Is everything set up?”“The house is stocked with food, fresh flowers in every room, and I’ve arranged for a private chef for Saturday night if you want it.” He’s reading from his tablet. “But

**ADRIAN POV**The gift box feels heavier than it should.Inside is a necklace. Not just any necklace, the one Serena admired in a jewelry store window on our third date, back when we were young and stupid and thought love was enough. She’d pressed her face against the glass, eyes wide, and said, “Someday, when I’m rich and successful, I’m buying that for myself.”I never bought it for her then. Never thought to. I was too busy building my empire, too focused on what I wanted instead of what she needed.But I found it. Tracked it down through three different dealers, paid an obscene amount, and now it’s here. A symbol. An apology. A promise that I remember who she was, who we were, before I destroyed everything.I’m standing outside ETHEREAL headquarters, the morning sun too bright, clutching this box like it’s a lifeline. My therapist would probably say this is unhealthy. That I’m putting too much weight on grand gestures instead of doing the actual work.But I have been doing the wo