1
SOFIA
Menomale che c’è il mare – Olly
The ocean had taughtSofia that change was normal, that some days would be calm and serene, and others pure chaos and thunderstorms. Eight years had passed without a storm. She’d graduated from university with stellar results, secured an internship at the best marine biology institute in the world, and she was in what was supposed to be a healthy relationship.
How ironic then, that her entire world had crumpled before her eyes when she realized Thomas had stolen everything from her. Her research, trust in her own ability to make decisions, her role as president of the Neptune Institute of Marine Science at just thirty-two, and everything she'd worked for since starting university.
Just thinking about it made her insides churn at the embarrassment she had endured in believing a man. A fucking man. Men weren’t to be trusted. Ever. They wanted just onething: to fuck brilliant women up. And she, Sofia Moretti Gómez, wasn’t going to allow it anymore.
Floating on the endless Atlantic Ocean on her longboard with the Portuguese coast behind her, Sofia’s eyes searched the horizon for answers. Beyond the impact zone, away from the crowded line-up, she could pity herself in peace.
After spending an entire day organizing the final details of Salacia Project’s first beach clean-up, her social battery had run out. She was done directing people, done following up on last-minute deliveries, done forcing her way through conversations in broken Portuguese that kept tangling with Italian and Spanish in her head.
With the beach clean-up scheduled for the next day and nothing left to micromanage, Sofia was more than ready for a break. So when Alejandra popped by the Salacia Project offices that afternoon and announced it was a perfect day for clean waves, Sofia grabbed her longboard without a second thought, and they drove to Praia de São Julião.
Alejandra—her best friend and a pro surfer with a huge following after her Olympic gold win—had already agreed to join the clean-up and had brought along another friend, Ilias Ríos El Idrissi, also an Olympic gold medalist.
Sofia had never met him, but Alejandra had talked about him endlessly; they’d been friends since entering the pro circuit at just eleven.
For eight years, Sofia had followed Alejandra’s career through livestreams and time-zone math, cheering softly from labs, airports, and borrowed beds. Plane tickets had always felt indulgent when grants were fragile and research came first, so she’d learned to celebrate from a distance—voice notes, late-night messages, screenshots saved like proof. So, she was glad to finally be able to support her from the beach in Ericeira.
Both Alejandra and Ilias’ presence had drawn so much attention that sign-ups for the cleanup filled up within just a few hours of being posted online. And even though that meant she’d organized something successful, Sofia was nervous it would all fall apart—just like it had with Thomas and Neptune.
Since then, she double-checked everything. Emails before sending. Numbers before sharing. Ideas before daring to say them out loud.
Even now, part of her waited for someone to point out the flaw she’d missed—to claim it first, to make her feel foolish for thinking it had ever been hers. That was the worst thing Thomas had left behind: the pause between thought and trust.
And now, she had nothing.
“Who are we sacrificing to Poseidon?” Alejandra’s voice came from her right.
Her best friend paddled out effortlessly—like it was second nature, like walking. And it probably was. Alejandra had been on a surfboard since she could stand upright.
“I’d rather sacrifice to a female goddess. You know I’ve got trust issues with men lately.”
“Thinking about Thomas again?” Alejandra stopped next to her, her long black hair slicked back and tied in a braid. She wore a wetsuit, because Portugal’s March water was brutally cold, no matter how warmly the sun kissed their faces.
“What a surprise, right?”
Sofia hated pitying herself. She didn’t like to voice her problems, that’s why the ocean was her shelter, but with Alejandra, she could be raw, real. They’d known each other since they were five.That ocean had seen them grow. And now, it was probably judging her for what she hadn’t achieved.
Cazzo, stop it, Sofi.
“Joder.Are you insane? You built Salacia in weeks, used your social media to make it blow up, and now you’rerunning boat tours like it’s nothing. You’re not failing, Sofi. You’re rebuilding,” Alejandra said, her determined green eyes contrasting with her sun-kissed skin.
“It’s called overcompensation or hyperfixation. One of the two, I guess,” Sofia said.
“Oh okay, I understand.” And before she could react, Alejandra kicked her off her board, forcing her to deal with the icy cold water on her face. A literal slap from the Atlantic to put some sense back into her.
As Sofia resurfaced, pushing her long brown hair away from her face, she found the board and glared at her best friend, who grinned like a maniac.
“You needed to be brought back to reality. And the ocean heals. Isn’t that what you always say?”
“I hate you,” Sofia muttered as she slid back onto her longboard.
“No, you love me. As I love you. And because I love you, I’m here to remind you that you are not the self-pity sad blob of a person you think you are. You brighten people’s lives, and you’re doing an amazing job with Salacia and your mission to bring marine biology out of the labs. You’re fantastic. And your worth is not defined by some setbacks or your horrible choice in men.”
