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“Sweet dreams, Soph.”
ChapterFourteen
SOPHIE
Meg
Hey! It’s been a while. Hope everything’s good. Can you believe the tricentennial is next month? Wasn’t sure if you were still going, but we should get our nails done.
Sophie gaped at the message and scanned it for the twelfth time.
Six months without a word from Meg, and now she had the gall to reach out as though she hadn’t ghosted Sophie.
A part of her wanted to ignore it, delete it. Maybe tell Meg that she’d rather lick a toilet seat than take her to the celebration.
But another part of her — the small, heartbroken part that had spent every day of the last six months wonderingwhy— wanted to take a hold of the branch that Meg was offering and run with it.
She’d seen what her mom had gone through, how she’d been pushed and pulled in the direction Sophie’s dad had decided to move her. Remembered how eager Naomi had been for Sophie’s time and attention after her best friend and husband had disappeared, leaving her with no circle, no support, and a fist full of bills.
When she couldn’t fill her time with Sophie, she picked up work as the receptionist at a salon and got involved in community events, slowly finding her joy and her place in local government.
Those years, with every pained smile, every stifled cry behind closed doors as her mom pieced together her shattered self-esteem, had been agony.
Since then, Sophie had refused to fall into the same trap. To give over so much of herself that the loss of one person would ruin her in the same way.
“Whoa, okay. Death glare initiated.” Mitch ambled over. “Is it Steve from legal again? That guy just won’t learn how to search.”
“No,” Sophie said, “It’s Meg. She wants to know if I’m still coming to the tricentennial gala.”
* * *
MITCH
Mitch dropped into his seat and rolled closer to Sophie.
“After all her bullshit,” he said, sliding an arm around her back, “she thinks, what? You’re cool to plus-one her at the city shebang like she didn’t pull a Road Runner on you?”
Sophie gave him a strained smile. “I’m not chasing after her though.”
“No, but you’re still thinking about her, picking apart every word you said, searching for the moment you messed up. Am I right?”
Her smile dropped.Langford with the advantage.
Might as well press it. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Sophie, you’re incredible. Don’t waste your time on people who don’t see that.”
It wasn’t until she was unpacking an archive box several minutes later that Sophie piped up again, her back turned and her voice dripping with frustration.
“So she doesn’t like me, so what? People are allowed to not like each other,” she reasoned, her words coming out quickly. “It’s silly. I shouldn’t even care.”
Mitch swiveled in his chair. “Fuck that. You’re allowed to care.” Anyone who thought Sophie was cold was blind. She cared. Deeply.
Yes, she pushed and retreated, acted like she was fine on her own. But in reality, what she wanted was someone to push back. To follow. To prove they wouldn’t be scared off.
Well. Mitch didn’t scare easily, and there was nothing Sophie could throw at him that he wouldn’t gladly welcome.
She smiled, a timid, soft thing that set off explosions behind his ribs. Even after everything, she still didn’t believe he was all-in.
He heaved himself out of his chair, took the box from her hands, and kissed the breath from her. “Do you know I wake up wanting to kiss you? Nothing feels right until I do, and it plays on a loop in my head until I finally see you.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Care, Sophie. As deeply as you can. Because you don’t deserve to lock yourself away.”
