47| Confrontation and Clarity

Ethan sat at his desk, papers scattered around him, but his mind wasn't on work.

No, his mind was on Sophie.

And the fact that he had been failing her lately.

She had made time for him today, but he had ruined it—wasting time on lunch with Claire.

That was over now, and he already knew one thing for sure—

He wasn't going to give Claire another chance to mess with Sophie.

Even for fun.

He just never understood why Claire did that. Why she always had to test boundaries.

Why she couldn't just let things be.

His eyes flickered to his watch, the hands ticking away the late afternoon hours.

Enough was enough.

He needed to make it up to Sophie.

Standing, Ethan grabbed his coat and strode out of his office.

Jessica looked up from her desk, blinking in surprise. "Leaving early today, Mr. Sinclair?"

Ethan's voice was firm but warm. "Yes, Jessica. Cancel any remaining meetings for the day and reschedule them for tomorrow."

Jessica nodded, a small knowing smile playing on her lips. "Of course, Mr. Sinclair. Have a good evening."

As Ethan drove, he thought about what he could do to make things right. He had been messing up more than he wanted to admit.

He didn't want to be a man who broke his promises.

More than that, he didn't want to take advantage of Sophie's kindness.

She was always so willing to forgive him.

Too willing, sometimes.

So he had to be more than willing to make an effort in their relationship.

It wasn't just about doing better—he wanted to do better.

Because he wanted to be with her.

And today at lunch wasn't enough.

Not even close.

His foot pressed harder on the accelerator, his pulse kicking up.

He just wanted to see her.

As he approached the shop, his stomach twisted. Claire's car was parked outside.

Odd.

For one brief second, he wanted to believe that they had made up.

That maybe Sophie and Claire were talking things through inside.

That maybe, just maybe, things weren't as bad as they seemed.

But deep down, he knew better.

A sense of unease crept over him as he parked and approached the shop cautiously. The closer he got, the more the muffled voices inside became clearer.

Raised voices.

That did not sound good.

Ethan stopped just outside the door. He could hear Claire's voice now, and it made his blood run cold.

At first, he hesitated—then he listened.

And his heart sank.

It wasn't anything new. It was the same bitterness, the same venomous words. The same manipulation.

This was Claire being exactly like her mother. It reminded him of his father.

The bitter words.

The twisted obsession.

The delusion.

It all reminded him of the first time he met her.

It reminded him of how he once pitied her.

How he once promised himself he'd protect her.

A somber sadness settled over him.

She had promised she would do better.

She had sworn she wasn't like them.

But that wasn't it, was it?

If it were anyone else, maybe he could have ignored it.

Maybe he could have walked away.

Maybe he could have pretended it wasn't his problem.

But he couldn't.

Because it was Sophie.

His Sophie.

Sophie—who at most times felt like his salvation.

Sophie—who was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Sophie—who had never deserved to be caught in this mess.

Claire's so-called feelings for him didn't even matter.

He knew she didn't love him.

She was obsessed with him.

To her, he was the only good thing in her life.

But all he had ever wanted was to protect her.

And now, she had done the one thing he couldn't forgive.

How long had this been going on?

When Claire had said she was "a little mean" to Sophie—

Did she mean this?

When he had apologized on Claire's behalf,

When he had pushed Sophie to accept her apology,

Was he apologizing for this?

Bullshit.

His jaw tightened, his pulse pounding.

A wave of instant guilt crashed over him.

Why did it have to be Claire?

The only person he had ever looked at like a little sister—

And she was treating the one woman he truly cared about like this?

And the worst part?

He had stupidly believed Claire's apology too.

Like a fool.

The sound of shattering glass jolted Ethan into action.

He didn't hesitate. Didn't think. Didn't breathe.

What he hadn't expected was to see Claire standing there,

A broken shard of glass clutched in her bleeding hand.

And her advancing on Sophie.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

For a second, he couldn't process it.

Not Claire.

Not after everything.

The weight of this moment crushed him.

Like today hadn't hurt enough.

*******

"What are you doing?" His voice was drained, tired—so damn tired.

Claire and Sophie both turned at the sound of his voice. Claire's eyes widened in shock, the shard slipping from her fingers and clattering to the floor.

Ethan didn't waste a second. He strode forward, straight to Sophie, his hands gripping her shoulders as he scanned her over, desperate to make sure she was okay.

She was fine. Thank God.

Then, he turned to Claire. His exhaustion melted into something colder, something final.

"I don't love you, Claire."

The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

Claire paled, her breath hitching. "You misunderstand. We were just... having a disagreement. Right, Sophie?" She laughed nervously, eyes darting between them. "That thing you just said, you don't mean that, right?"

There was a time Ethan might have softened, might have tried to spare her feelings. But her feelings be damned. She didn't seem to care about his.

"I do mean it. I don't know what gave you that idea. I have never loved you. Not once. And definitely not in the way you think."

Claire's face crumpled, but Ethan wasn't finished. She needed to hear this.

"I was only kind to you because I pitied you, Claire."

The words cut through the silence, sharp and brutal.

"That pity was never love. It was never affection. It was just pity. I felt bad for you."

Claire flinched as if he had struck her. Her eyes filled with tears, her hands trembling at her sides.

"Ethan, please." Her voice cracked, desperate now. She took a hesitant step forward. "We've known each other for so long. You must feel something."

Ethan exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "And you made it all completely worthless today."

Claire's lips trembled. "But, Ethan, I love you. Don't you care about me at all?"

"I know you've used me," Ethan said, his voice quiet but unyielding. "I know you've taken advantage of the fact that I'd always forgive you when you brought up your mother. But not this time. There's no digging yourself out of this one, Claire."

He met her tearful gaze, unwavering. "Whatever friendship we had, it's over. I just can't forgive you."

Tears streamed down Claire's face, her expression crumbling under the weight of his words. "Ethan, please. I'm sorry. Don't end things like this."

Ethan clenched his jaw, then pointed to the mirror hanging on the nearby wall. "Look at yourself, Claire." His tone was firm, but there was a sliver of something else beneath it—concern, maybe. A last chance. "You're starting to look like her. The very person you swore you'd never become. Your mother."

Claire stiffened.

Slowly, she turned toward the mirror.

And what she saw made her breath catch.

The composed, polished woman she always tried so hard to be was gone.

In her place stood someone wild-eyed, tear-streaked, desperate. Unrecognizable.

She looked exactly like the person she had vowed never to become.

Her lips parted, as if to protest.

But the words never came.

Because there was nothing to say.

Nothing to fix.

Nothing to salvage.

For the first time, Claire had nothing to say.

Without another word, she turned and walked toward the door. Just as her hand touched the handle, she hesitated. She glanced back at Ethan, then at Sophie.

She looked like she wanted to say something.

But whatever it was, she swallowed it down.

Then, she pushed the door open and walked out, letting it fall shut behind her.

The moment the door clicked shut, Sophie's legs gave out beneath her.

She slumped to the floor, her body overwhelmed with everything she had just been through.

The fear, the anger, the exhaustion—it all crashed down at once.

"Sophie!"

Ethan was there in an instant, kneeling beside her, wrapping his strong arms around her tightly.

He pulled her against his chest, his warmth enveloping her as her sobs wracked her small frame.

His voice was raw, breaking with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, Sophie."

He kissed her forehead gently, his lips lingering, his breath warm against her skin.

"Are you okay? I should have been here sooner. I should have protected you."

Sophie clung to him, gripping the fabric of his shirt as though he was the only thing grounding her.

Her tears soaked his shoulder, but he didn't care.

Not one bit.

Because he would hold her for as long as she needed.

"I'm here now," he whispered, murmuring apologies, words of comfort, anything to soothe her.

His hand rubbed slow, steady circles on her back, his touch gentle, reassuring.

And slowly, slowly—

Her sobs began to subside.

After a long moment, Sophie wiped at her tears, sniffling softly.

Ethan helped her up, his arm securely around her waist.

She felt drained, but in his arms, she felt safe.

"Let's close up the shop and go home," he said softly.

Sophie nodded, exhaustion settling into her bones. "The mess," she muttered, glancing at the shattered glass and ruined flowers littering the floor.

"I'll have someone clean it up tomorrow," Ethan assured her, his guilt deepening as he took in the wreckage.

"I'm really sorry, Sophie."

He had said it a hundred times, but each time, it sounded more pained.

Sophie shook her head, reaching up to touch his cheek softly.

"It's okay, Ethan—Ow!"

She yelped, the sudden pain shooting through her leg.

Ethan's entire body went rigid.

His eyes darkened with concern, and in a flash, he was right in front of her, scanning her for injuries.

"What's wrong, Sophie?" His voice was filled with panic.

Sophie frowned, only now realizing the stinging pain.

"I think I cut my leg."

Her calf burned, and when she looked down, she saw a small but steady trickle of blood trailing down her skin.

A piece of broken glass must have gotten her earlier, but with everything happening, she hadn't even noticed.

Ethan reacted instantly, grabbing a clean towel from the counter. He knelt beside her, pressing it firmly against the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his jaw tight. "I'm so sorry, Sophie. This is all my fault."

Sophie reached out, brushing her fingers lightly through his hair. "It's not your fault, Ethan," she murmured. "Let's just get home, okay? We can take care of it there."

Ethan exhaled, trying to shake off the frustration and guilt gnawing at him. When the bleeding finally slowed, Ethan helped her up again, his hand never leaving her waist.

After locking up the shop, he guided her to the car, opening the door and making sure she was comfortable before closing it.

For a moment, he just stood there. Taking a slow, deep breath.

The weight of the evening pressed down on him, heavier than ever.

Then, shaking himself out of it, he slid into the driver's seat, his only thought now to get Sophie home.

-------

Don't forget to vote and leave a comment

🩷🩷