Chapter 5 - Friends Don’t Lie

Sophia stood outside her mother's hospital room, fingers clenched around a her coffee cup that had long since gone cold. The beeping machines inside were steady today thank God, but the weight in her chest never fully lifted.

She could handle the pressure of running NovaTech. She could handle staring down others in a boardroom. But watching her mother's health slip away. This was a battle she didn't know if or how she could win.

Her phone buzzed.

Priya: I'm outside. Let me in or I'll bribe a nurse.

A smile tugged at Sophia's mouth despite herself. She walked down the hall and found Priya standing at the nurses' station, holding a large bouquet of bright flowers 

"thanks," Sophia said, taking the flowers.

"I thought they'd brighten the room." Priya grinned, then eyed Sophia up and down. "You look… tense. And I know that look.

"What look?"

"The 'I just spent hours locked in a room with Bobby Knight and now I'm questioning all my life choices' look."

Sophia groaned. "It wasn't that bad."

Priya's brows shot up. "You didn't threaten to stab him with a pen?"

"Not this time." Sophia chuckled

"Progress!" Priya linked her arm through Sophia's and steered her toward the waiting lounge. "Alright, spill. What's it like working with the enemy?"

Sophia sank onto the worn couch, placing the flowers beside her. "It's weird. We actually work well together, which is terrifying."

"Terrifying because you actually work well together, or terrifying because it's kind of hot?"

Sophia's glare was immediate. "We are not doing this."

"Oh, honey, we are absolutely doing this." Priya leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Admit it. There's still something there."

"There is not."

"Liar."

Sophia sighed, rubbing her temples. "Okay, fine Maybe there's still some kind of tension."

"Sexual tension," Priya corrected, far too gleeful.

"It's not sexual!"

Priya raised a perfectly arched brow. "Then why do you look like you need a shower every time you say his name?"

Sophia swatted her with a hospital pamphlet. "Can we talk about literally anything else?"

"Sure. Let's talk about how you're going to survive working with him for the next month and not go crazy." Priya's smile softened. "I'm serious, Soph. This is a lot. Your mom, your company, Bobby"

"I can handle it," Sophia said automatically.

"You always say that."

"And I always do."

Priya tilted her head, studying her. "You don't have to handle everything alone, you know."

Sophia's throat tightened. "I know."

But asking for help had never come easily. Not for a girl who grew up watching her parents hustle every day just to keep the lights on. Being strong was second nature. Admitting weakness? That was the same as losing.

Priya's phone chimed, drawing her attention away. She checked the screen and groaned. "I have to run client emergency. But I'm coming back this weekend, and we're having wine and plotting Bobby's downfall."

Sophia smiled. "Deal."

Priya stood, bending down to kiss the top of Sophia's head. "Love you, idiot."

"Love you too."

As Priya ran out the room, leaving the scent of citrus perfume in her wake, Sophia let herself breathe for a moment.

Meanwhile, across the city, Bobby sat at a high top table in a crowded bar, scowling into his whiskey.

"You're doing the face again," said the man across from him.

Bobby glanced up. Drew Gallo was the kind of guy who somehow always looked like he just stepped off a yacht tanned, annoyingly handsome, effortlessly cool. They'd been friends since prep school, bonded over getting kicked out of a charity gala for sneaking cigars from the event organizer stash.

"What face?" Bobby asked

"The 'I spent too much time with Sophia Reyes and now I need therapy' face."

Bobby groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "Does everyone see it?"

"Yes," Drew said cheerfully. "And they have since sophomore year."

"It's not like that."

"Sure."

"I'm serious."

"And I'm sober enough to know you're lying." Drew tipped his glass toward Bobby. "You've been obsessed with her since college, man."

"It's not obsession," Bobby muttered.

"Call it what you want. Enemy fixation. Rivalry kink. Doesn't really matter, but you've got it bad."

Bobby downed the rest of his drink. "We work well together, that's it."

Drew gave him a knowing smirk. "And that's why you looked ready to crawl out of your skin when I said her name."

Bobby leaned back, while glaring at his bestfriend. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Absolutely." Drew signaled the bartender for another round. "Seriously, though—what's the deal with you two now? Last I heard, she hated your guts."

"She probably still does." Bobby shrugged. "But Easton wants us to work together for the pitch."

Drew whistled low. "So they're forcing you into a corporate rom com."

Bobby's scowl deepened. "This isn't a rom com."

"Right." Drew raised his glass. "It's an enemies to lovers, with a hostile subplot."

Bobby snatched Drew's glass and drank half of it. "You are the worst."

"And yet, here I am." Drew grinned. "So what are you gonna do about her?"

"Nothing." Bobby replied. "We'll work, we'll get the contract, and then we'll go back to ignoring each other just like before."

Drew shook his head. "Denial looks bad on you."

Before Bobby could respond, his phone buzzed on the table. A text from Emma.

Emma: Just saw Sophia's Insta story. She's at the hospital with her mom. You should check in on her.

Bobby stared at the screen for a long moment. He didn't reply.

"Everything okay?" Drew asked.

"Yeah." Bobby pocketed the phone. "Just family stuff."

"Speaking of family how's the whole 'disappointing your father' project going?"

"Spectacularly." Bobby signaled for the check. "He's probably rewriting his will as we speak."

"I'm proud of you." Drew clapped him on the back. "Rebellion suits you."

Bobby laughed, but it was hollow. Truth was, some days he wasn't sure if proving himself to his father still mattered or if he was just stuck in the habit of fighting.

Drew's voice cut into his thoughts. "So, about Sophia…"

"What about her?"

"You gonna admit you still want her, or do I have to start a betting pool?"

Bobby stood, throwing some cash on the table. "Get a hobby."

"This is my hobby."

Bobby shook his head, but the grin tugging at his mouth was almost real. "Come on, troublemaker. Let's go."

As they walked out into the night, Bobby's phone buzzed again. Another text—from Emma.

Emma: Seriously. Check on her. Even rivals need someone sometimes.

Bobby slipped his phone into his pocket without replying. But his steps slowed just a little, and his thoughts against his will drifted back to Sophia Reyes.