Happy breakup

My breakup with Ethan was a disaster. He punched a glass cabinet in a rage, blood everywhere. Then he dropped to his knees, clinging to my waist, voice trembling, "Sarah, what are you thinking? How could you like someone else? I’m not breaking up with you. We can fix this. Everything can be fixed after a good night's sleep, right? Baby, please…"

Years later, my startup failed, and I had no choice but to beg the CEO of Oceanic Group for help. That man was Ethan.

He swirled his wine, leaned back, and raised an eyebrow at me. “Sarah,” he said, “everything can be fixed after a good night's sleep, right?”

Honestly, I expected Ethan to make things difficult. Our breakup had been brutal. He held a grudge. That's why he kept staring at me with that smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sarah,” he repeated, “everything can be fixed after a good night's sleep, right?”

I’d seen his youthful arrogance. I knew his pride. I’d been proud too, once. But I never had the same safety net he did. So, I raised my glass, lowering myself as much as I could, and pleaded, “Ethan, I was wrong back then. Please, let bygones be bygones. We were classmates, we knew each other for over a decade. I apologize. Have a heart.” I downed the wine.

He watched me, amused, swirling his own glass, one hand draped casually on the table. He didn’t speak. I poured another glass, offering it to him. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I was wrong."

“Our project has been in development for two years. It’ll be profitable once it hits sales. I know you might not think much of a small company like Nova Creations, and you have plenty of lucrative investments, but this is our team’s lifeblood. It truly has potential. Please give us a chance to prove its value…” By the end, after three glasses, my eyes were stinging, and I couldn’t speak anymore. If Ethan had scoffed, "What's your value to me?", I think I would have crumbled from the shame of begging. Lowering myself before him always drained me.

Thankfully, he didn’t say that. He glanced at me, irritated, lit a cigarette, and took a slow drag. "You'd rather live on ramen for two weeks than take a dime from me back then, but now you're groveling and drinking half my bottle of Chateau Cheval Blanc."

I froze, glancing at the wine, mortified. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I can reimburse you."

"Reimburse me how?" He raised an eyebrow, suddenly interested, his gaze intense.

"I’ll buy you a bottle. Just please give Nova Creations a chance."

"One bottle? Sarah, your pride's still too high. All these years haven't knocked it out of you. What a shame." He smiled, mocking me. "You’re trying to get something for nothing. You’re taking me for a fool."

"Ethan, I’m begging you." Tears welled in my eyes.

"That's not how you beg. At least, not how I begged you back then."

How had he begged? Ethan and I were high school sweethearts. We dated for three years in college before I broke it off. There was no dramatic betrayal, no unavoidable circumstance. I just didn't want to ...