68| A Night of Realizations

Ethan arrived at the lounge, his heart racing with worry.

As he pushed through the throng of people at the entrance, he spotted Mia and Lily standing off to the side, Sophie leaning heavily against them. She had fallen asleep, her face still tear-streaked and her cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

Ethan's heart stopped.

Mia's expression was a mix of relief and frustration when she saw Ethan. "Here," she said, gently handing Sophie over to him.

Ethan caught her easily, holding her against his chest.

She felt small.

Too small.

Mia's eyes narrowed. "She's been drinking a lot, Ethan. She's a mess."

Lily crossed her arms, her tone just as sharp. "She was hysterically sobbing before she passed out. You should have seen her."

Ethan's jaw tightened.

The guilt twisted inside him, sharp and suffocating.

He adjusted Sophie carefully, his arms tightening around her as she murmured incoherently.

Barely conscious.

Barely holding on.

And it was his fault.

He carried her out to his car and gently placed her in the back seat, covering her with his jacket to keep her warm.

"Do you two need a ride home?" Ethan asked, his voice quiet, trying to hide the turmoil he felt.

Mia shook her head. "No, we'll get a cab. Just take Sophie home. Make sure she's okay." Her tone was sharp, but there was an underlying worry in her eyes.

Lily added, "Take care of her, Ethan. She's hurting."

Ethan nodded, feeling the weight of their words. "I will," he promised, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry."

They watched as Ethan closed the car door and climbed into the driver's seat. As he started the engine and pulled away, he could see Mia and Lily watching them disappear into the night.

His hands gripped the wheel.

And the guilt—the unbearable weight of it—

Crushed him.

Because this was his fault.

All of it.

********

When Ethan pulled into the driveway, Sophie began to stir.

He gently shook her shoulder.

"Sophie, we're home."

Her eyes fluttered open.

Then, suddenly—

A bright, childish grin spread across her face.

"Ethan!" she exclaimed, her entire face lighting up.

Like she hadn't just spent the night crying.

Like she wasn't breaking inside.

"You're here! You came for me!"

She giggled—high, carefree, completely unlike herself.

Ethan's chest ached.

Even like this—messy, drunk, and stumbling through emotions she wasn't ready to face—

She was so damn beautiful to him.

He couldn't help but smile, just a little.

"Yes, I'm here," he said gently. "Let's get you inside, okay?"

But Sophie had other ideas.

Before he could help her out of the car, she slipped free—her movements erratic, unsteady.

Then—she ran.

"Catch me if you can!" she laughed, twirling in the driveway like a child playing a game.

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Sophie, please, come on."

He reached for her, careful, coaxing—

But the second his fingers brushed her arm,

Her smile shattered.

Her body tensed.

And then—her eyes filled with tears.

"I don't want to go to my room," she whispered—then wailed.

"I want to be with you. I want to sleep next to you!"

Her voice broke on the last words, the sound slicing through Ethan like a knife.

For a moment, he couldn't breathe.

How had he done this to her?

How had he made his Sophie feel like this?

He swallowed, forcing his voice to stay calm. Gentle.

"Okay, okay," he soothed. "Let's go to my room."

He led her upstairs, keeping his arms around her waist as they walked.

But just as they reached his bedroom—

She bolted.

Straight for the bathroom.

"Sophie—"

The sound of her retching into the toilet made his stomach twist.

Ethan was at her side immediately, kneeling beside her.

One hand holding back her hair, the other rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"It's okay, I got you," he murmured, voice low and steady.

She shivered beneath his touch.

After a few moments, Sophie sat back on her heels, exhausted, trembling.

Ethan helped her up carefully, guiding her to sit on the closed toilet lid.

He reached for the shower handle, adjusting the temperature until the water ran warm and steady.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said softly.

The steam wrapped around them, filling the small space with warmth.

Sophie stepped under the spray, the water cascading over her skin, washing away the night.

She pressed her palms against the cool tiles, letting out a slow, shaky breath.

She felt a little more awake.

But the ache in her chest?

That wasn't so easily washed away.

Ethan stood just outside the shower, his back turned, giving her privacy.

But he didn't leave.

Couldn't.

A few minutes later, Sophie emerged from the shower, her damp hair clinging to her flushed cheeks.

Ethan was already waiting, one of his soft shirts in hand.

"Here," he murmured, slipping it over her head, his fingers brushing against her skin.

"Drink some water."

He passed her a glass along with some medicine.

She nodded, taking the medicine and sipping the water slowly, her eyes still a bit unfocused.

While she was in the shower, Ethan had found her hairdryer.

Now, as she sat on the bed, he gently dried her hair, running his fingers through it with quiet focus.

For the first time tonight, Sophie sat completely still.

At one point, he thought she had fallen asleep.

But when he finished—

She was staring at him.

Her bright, wide eyes filled with something unspoken.

Like she was considering something.

Like she had a question she didn't know if she wanted answered.

When she finally slipped under the covers, Ethan adjusted them over her, tucking her in like she was something fragile.

As Sophie settled, Ethan sat beside her, brushing a few strands of hair from her forehead.

She reached out—

Grabbing his hand.

Tightly.

Her fingers trembled.

Her eyes filled with tears.

And then—

She broke.

"Do you not love me anymore?"

Her voice was small.

Broken.

Ethan stilled.

The question knocked the breath from his lungs.

Because he hadn't even told him he loved him yet.

But somehow, she already knew.

They both knew.

That what they felt couldn't be anything but love.

Ethan's heart shattered.

He leaned in, his free hand cupping her cheek, brushing away a tear.

"Sophie, of course, I do," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

His thumb lingered at her cheekbone, voice dropping—

"Sometimes I feel like you're my whole world."

He swallowed, his throat tight.

"I'm so sorry if I made you feel like I didn't."

"I'm just... I'm sorry."

But his words didn't soothe her.

Sophie shook her head, her breath shuddering.

And then—fresh tears spilled.

"You don't act like it," she cried, her voice cracking.

"You pushed me away—like you don't want me around.

Her fingers clutched his.

Her next words came barely above a whisper.

"It hurts, Ethan. It really hurts."

Ethan's own eyes burned.

He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against him.

She sobbed into his chest, her small frame shaking.

And all he could do—

Was hold her.

"I'm sorry, Sophie," he whispered, again and again.

His voice barely a breath.

"I'm so, so sorry."

His arms tightened around her, his lips pressing against her hair.

He rocked her gently, feeling each sob like a wound.

Her tears soaked into his shirt.

And with every broken cry, Ethan felt his heart break all over again.

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