Memories of Sophia’s childhood and his wife rushed into his vision one after another, piling up until they crushed the last of his control. Feelings he had buried for years broke free, surging up so fiercely that he could hardly endure them.
Sophia had been such a happy child.
She was always smiling, always waiting at the door for him and her mother to come home. The second they stepped inside, she would run forward on her little legs and throw herself into their arms, laughing brightly.
He could almost hear her voice.
She used to recognize him just from the sound of his footsteps.
Even on nights when they came home late and she had already fallen asleep, she would somehow wake up the moment she heard the door. Half asleep, hair messy, eyes barely open, she would stumble toward him, wrap her tiny arms around his waist, and refuse to let go, insisting on sleeping in his embrace.
Sophia had been closest to him. Even more than to her mother.
But then tragedy struck.
Cancer took his wife away, and Arthur buried himself in work. He threw himself into business, day and night for Sophia—so she would have security, so she would never suffer.
Somewhere along the way…
He lost her.
He hadn’t even noticed when she stopped waiting for him to come back home.
His sight blurred, and a tear finally slid down despite all his effort.
Now the realization pressed so heavily on his chest that every breath felt painful, as if something inside him were collapsing.
Arthur slowly lowered himself onto the couch. His elbows rested on his thighs, his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He bent forward, head lowered, shoulders tense, trying to calm the storm raging in his heart.
Minutes passed.
Then came the faint sound of footsteps from the stairs.
Arthur’s head lifted instantly.
Sophia appeared.
She walked down slowly, wearing simple trousers and a T-shirt. Her face looked calm, almost indifferent, but in her eyes there was confusion… and a distant coldness he had never truly noticed before.
It pierced straight through him.
Every step she took toward him felt like an invisible rope tightening around his heart, squeezing harder and harder.
Arthur stood up at once, almost nervous. His fingers twitched at his sides, and he straightened unconsciously, as if afraid she might disappear if he moved wrong.
When she finally reached him, she stopped a short distance away.
Not too far.
But not close either.
The gap between them suddenly felt impossible to cross.
The maid stepped forward politely and bowed her head.
“I will bring some refreshments for you, Mr. King.”
“There is no need,” Arthur said at once, glancing toward the maid. “Please leave us alone.”
