75| Aftermath

As the police began arresting the men who had attacked Sophie, Ethan stood to the side, feeling strangely numb.

He didn't want to think.

Because if he did, he would spiral. He would overthink, imagine the worst, let the rage and fear consume him all over again.

So instead, he just watched.

He watched as the paramedics gently lifted Sophie onto a stretcher, their hands careful as they checked her for injuries. She looked so small. So exhausted. And even though her eyes fluttered open briefly, the light in them was dimmed by pain.

Just this morning, she had been smiling.

Now, she was wrapped in a blanket, her face bruised, her body weak.

She didn't deserve this.

Not even a little.

Jessica appeared beside him, her voice softer than usual. "Ethan, you should let the paramedics check you out. You're covered in blood."

Ethan didn't take his eyes off Sophie. His voice came out flat, detached. "It's not my blood."

His hands were still shaking—from adrenaline, from rage—but he couldn't bring himself to move away from Sophie's side. He had to see her. He had to make sure she was okay.

Jessica hesitated, glancing between him and the officers taking statements. "What should I tell the police?" she asked quietly, understanding the weight of the situation.

Ethan's jaw tightened. "Don't mention my father." His voice was steel.

"He'll just find a way to weasel out of it. And if we push too hard, it'll end up ruining the company name. The last thing Sophie wants is for this to be splashed all over the news."

He exhaled sharply, his gaze dark. "Give them just enough to handle those men. Nothing more."

Jessica nodded. No more questions. She turned and walked toward the officers, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts.

As Ethan finished giving his statement, a gentle touch brushed against his hand.

He turned.

Sophie stood beside him.

Her gaze dropped to his bruised and bloodied hands, her fingers trembling slightly as she traced the swollen lines of his knuckles. The sight of his injuries made her chest tighten, her heart aching for him.

"You're hurt," she whispered.

Ethan avoided her gaze, shame twisting in his stomach. He couldn't look at her—not when he knew that his father's actions had caused this.

The bruise on her cheek. The bandage on her temple. The exhaustion in her eyes.

All because of him.

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

Sophie stepped closer. Gently, she cupped his face in her hands, tilting it down so he had no choice but to meet her gaze.

"Ethan," she whispered. "Look at me."

He hesitated, his eyes flickering with pain, regret—something else he couldn't quite name.

"I'm okay," she assured him, her voice soft yet steady, coaxing him out of the storm raging inside him. "I promise."

Ethan's throat tightened. He didn't deserve this, didn't deserve the gentleness in her touch or the quiet strength in her eyes.

Like always she was a balm to his wounded soul.

But Sophie didn't let him pull away. She guided him toward the paramedics, who immediately began tending to his bloodied hands.

As they worked, cleaning and bandaging the cuts, Sophie stayed close. She didn't speak, didn't press him for words he wasn't ready to say. Instead, she simply reached out and squeezed his arm—a silent reassurance that she was there, that she wasn't going anywhere.

The paramedic carefully wrapped Ethan's knuckles, the stark white gauze a sharp contrast against the dark bruises blooming across his skin.

"These are some nasty bruises," the paramedic noted, his tone calm but kind. "You'll need to keep these clean and take it easy for a while."

Ethan barely nodded, his mind elsewhere—his gaze fixed on Sophie.

She sat nearby, eyes closed, her body still, but exhaustion clung to her like a heavy weight.

Even like this—

Fragile. Worn down.

She still looked so damn strong.

A lump rose in his throat as he leaned closer to the paramedic, his voice quieter, rougher.

"How is she?"

The paramedic followed Ethan's gaze and gave a reassuring nod. "Mild concussion," he explained. "She'll be okay, but she needs to rest. Make sure she takes it easy."

Relief flooded through him, so sudden and overwhelming that his fingers trembled slightly.

He let out a slow, shaky breath.

She's okay.

Once the paramedic finished, Ethan helped Sophie to the car, opening the door carefully and making sure she was settled before walking around to his seat.

They drove in silence.

Thick, heavy silence.

Ethan's mind was a storm—his father, the attack, the gnawing guilt clawing at his chest.

And Sophie, sitting right beside him, feeling just out of reach.

After a while, he pulled the car to the side of the road, unable to keep driving.

His hands gripped the steering wheel, his head bowing forward.

He needed air.

Without a word, he stepped out, letting the cool evening air wash over him, but it did nothing to steady the chaos inside.

Sophie watched him from the passenger seat, her heart aching at the sight of him.

After a few moments, she unbuckled her seatbelt and slipped out of the car, her footsteps soft against the pavement.

She didn't say anything—just came to stand beside him.

Ethan couldn't hold back anymore.

He turned and pulled her into his arms, crushing her against him.

His face buried in her shoulder, his entire body trembling as he held onto her like she was the only thing keeping him upright.

Sophie didn't hesitate.

She held him back just as tightly, her arms wrapping around him, her hands moving soothingly along his back.

She could feel it—his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths.

And then—

A warmth against her shoulder.

Wetness soaking through her jacket.

Her heart squeezed painfully.

Ethan was crying.

He tried to swallow it down, but she felt every shudder of his body.

Slowly, Sophie pulled back just enough to look at him.

His eyes were red-rimmed, his jaw clenched tight.

She reached up, brushing away his tears, her thumb running gently across his cheek.

Ethan closed his eyes at the touch, like it was grounding him, like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

And before she could think twice—

Sophie leaned in and kissed him.

Soft.

Reassuring.

A kiss meant to pull him back, to remind him he wasn't alone.

Ethan melted into it instantly.

But then—his hands cradled her face, and the desperation in his touch made her knees go weak.

He kissed her deeper, like she was the most precious thing in the world—like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

The world around them blurred and disappeared.

Nothing else existed.

Just them.

Just this moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Ethan pressed his forehead against hers, his breath warm, unsteady.

Then—he hugged her again.

Tighter.

Like he couldn't bear to let go.

Sophie held onto him.

Because she felt it.

Felt him breaking open, piece by piece.

Felt the emotions he couldn't say out loud.

He loved her.

Maybe he wasn't ready to say it—

But she felt it in the way he held her.

So she held him tighter.

Letting him know she was there.

Now.

Always.

-------

Don't forget to vote and leave a comment

🩷🩷