Chapter 15

Sophie sat cross-legged on her couch, a hollow ache replacing the familiar warmth of her apartment. A sitcom blared from the TV, the forced laughter a cruel mockery of the suffocating silence in her heart. She'd spent the last few days avoiding Tom's calls, his pathetic attempts at explanation echoing in the emptiness. The betrayal clung to her, a venomous serpent coiling around her chest, tightening its grip with every breath.

Her phone buzzed—Ethan again. She hadn't answered his calls since leaving his apartment two days ago. She didn't know why. Perhaps she didn't want to burden him, to be seen as some broken doll in need of constant mending. Perhaps the shame of her own blindness, the agonizing realization of how completely she'd been deceived, was too unbearable to face, even with him.

Another buzz. This time, a notification. Her finger, moving almost involuntarily, swiped open the screen. The headline slammed into her like a physical blow:

"Tech Entrepreneur Tom Bradford Announces Engagement to Socialite Amanda Cole."

Her breath hitched, a strangled gasp lost in the sudden, suffocating silence. Trembling fingers scrolled down the article. There it was—a photograph of Tom, that same charming smile plastered across his face, his arm possessively around a woman with impossibly gleaming blonde hair and a designer gown that screamed wealth and indifference.

Engaged.

The word echoed in her mind, a hammer blow to her already shattered soul. He hadn't just cheated; he'd moved on with breathtaking speed, replacing her with a polished, perfect replacement. The casual cruelty of it was a physical blow.

Her stomach lurched, a violent spasm of nausea twisting her insides. She barely made it to the bathroom before collapsing over the sink, retching until her stomach was empty, the emptiness mirroring the hollow space in her chest. Leaning against the cool porcelain, she stared at her reflection—a pale, haunted ghost staring back from the mirror.

"Stupid," she whispered, tears blurring her vision. "How could I have been so stupid?"

The Weight of It All

The days that followed were a blur of agonizing numbness. Sophie retreated into her apartment, a prisoner in her own self-imposed exile. She called in sick to work, ignoring texts from friends and Ethan's increasingly desperate attempts to reach her. Food held no appeal; she subsisted on instant noodles and stale crackers, her body mirroring the emptiness within.

Every corner of her apartment mocked her with memories of Tom. The wine glasses from their romantic dinners, the throw pillow he'd jokingly "stolen," even the untouched box of pastries from that fateful day—all cruel reminders of a love that had shattered, leaving behind only jagged shards of pain.

Ethan's Growing Concern

Ethan stood outside Sophie's apartment, a bag of groceries heavy in his hand. He hadn't heard from her in almost a week, his initial worry escalating into a suffocating panic.

He knocked firmly. "Sophie? It's me."

Silence. A heavy, suffocating silence that mirrored the fear tightening in his chest.

"Soph, I know you're in there. Open up, or I'm using the spare key."

When there was still no response, Ethan sighed, the sound heavy with despair, and fished the key from his pocket. He let himself in, his heart sinking at the scene before him.

The curtains were drawn, plunging the apartment into a twilight gloom. Dishes piled high in the sink, empty food wrappers scattered across the coffee table like fallen leaves. Sophie was curled on the couch, a small, still form lost in the shadows, her gaze fixed on the lifeless screen of the TV.

A sharp pain pierced Ethan's chest. He set the groceries down, his movements careful as he knelt in front of her.

"Sophie," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper.

Her eyes flickered towards him, then quickly away.

"Hey," Ethan continued, his voice gentle but firm, a lifeline in the darkness. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"I'm fine," she murmured, her voice hollow, a mere ghost of its usual vibrant energy.

"No, you're not," Ethan said, his voice firm but filled with compassion. He sat on the coffee table, facing her, his gaze unwavering. "You're not eating. You're not answering calls. You're shutting everyone out."

Sophie's lip trembled, the tears she'd been desperately holding back finally spilling over.

"Talk to me, Soph," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "Please."

And she broke.

"I saw it," she whispered, her voice cracking, the words laced with anguish. "The article. He's engaged, Ethan. He's engaged to her."

Ethan's jaw clenched, a wave of furious anger washing over him. "That bastard," he muttered, the words barely audible, but the venom in his voice was unmistakable.

"I don't get it," Sophie continued, her voice rising in anguish, the words tearing at his heart. "How could he move on so quickly? Was I nothing to him?"

Ethan reached out, gently pulling her into a tight embrace. "You were everything, Sophie," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "He's the one who didn't deserve you."

She clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt, her body shaking with sobs. "It hurts so much," she whispered, the words raw and vulnerable.

"I know," Ethan said, his voice thick with empathy. "But you're going to get through this. You're stronger than you think."

A Glimmer of Hope

Over the next few days, Ethan became Sophie's unwavering anchor. He brought home-cooked meals, forced her to eat, opened the curtains to let in the sunlight, and gently coaxed her out for short walks. He didn't push her to talk about Tom, but his presence, his quiet strength, was a constant reassurance that she wasn't alone.

Slowly, painstakingly, Sophie began to reclaim herself. Color returned to her cheeks, a small smile flickering across her lips when Ethan joked about his disastrous attempts at cooking.

One evening, curled on her couch watching a movie, Sophie turned to Ethan.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with a gratitude that went beyond words.

"For what?" Ethan asked, his gaze soft, his heart aching with unspoken feelings.

"For being here," she replied, her voice thick with emotion. "For putting up with me."

Ethan smiled, a bittersweet smile that held both pain and a burgeoning hope. "Anytime, Soph," he said softly. "Anytime."