He Deleted My Name From Every Design. I Deleted Him From My Life. Chapter 07
After the conference ended, there was a gala dinner.
Adrian stood in the corner of the ballroom with a glass of wine in his hand.
From across half the room, he watched me.
Someone came over to greet him.
He responded politely, but his eyes never left me.
When I walked past him, he spoke.
“Claire.”
I stopped.
“I reviewed your city center project proposal. The way you handled composition and lighting was
impressive.”
I didn’t respond.
He continued.
“This is far stronger than your previous work.”
I turned to look at him.
“Mr. Whitmore, four years ago, you said I wasn’t professional enough.”
“But now you came here to tell me I did well. Why?”
His fingers tightened around the wine glass.
“I’m not trying to make up for anything.”
“It’s simply the truth.”
“Okay. I understand.”
I turned to leave.
He stopped me.
“Claire.”
I paused.
He stood beneath the lights, his lips moving slightly.
“Come back.”
“Come back to me, and let’s start over.”
I looked into his eyes.
They were the same as they had been four years ago.
When he looked at someone, it always felt like he could accept every part of them.
But four years ago, when he looked at me, all I saw was impatience and irritation.
“Adrian.”
My voice was calm.
“Four years ago, you said I wasn’t professional enough. I accepted that.”
“After that, I spent four years proving everyone who doubted me wrong.”
“The 52 points you gave me–I earned every single one of them back myself.”
“You suspended me. You denied everything I had done. Everything I have today has nothing to do
with you.”
“Tell me, why would I go back?”
He said nothing.
“You once said Sophie was talented.”
“You said she deserved encouragement.”
“What about me?”
“Seven years, Adrian…”
“Was I really not even worth hearing one word of encouragement from you?”
“But what you gave me was a score of 52 and the words ‘not professional enough.””
His throat moved.
“I was wrong.”
“I know,” I said.
“But I don’t care anymore.”
“Maybe there was a time when I hated you.”
“But now, there’s nothing left.”
He stood there without moving.
“If I—”
“There is no ‘if.””
I turned and walked away.
A car was waiting outside.
I opened the door and got inside.
In the rearview mirror, Adrian was still standing there.
The streetlights stretched his shadow long across the pavement.
