Her breath hitched. Fingers curled into her palms as if the memory could still crush her. “That lipstick on his neck… it destroyed every stupid little hope I had.”
She drew in a sharp breath, eyes glistening.
“I can’t pretend anymore. It is what it is. I can’t act like I didn’t see it. I can’t lie to myself.”
Her gaze found Emma’s, steady but heavy.
“So I want to leave. There’s nothing left for me here. I’m going to London.”
Emma’s heart ached at the calm acceptance in her voice. She reached out and squeezed Sophia’s arm gently.
“You’ll find someone better,” she said firmly. “You deserve someone who truly loves you.”
Before Sophia could respond, Emma’s phone buzzed sharply, slicing through the quiet room.
The sudden sound made them both flinch, eyes dropping to the glowing screen.
Emma frowned, swiping to unlock it. “So many notifications…” she muttered, scrolling quickly. Confusion flickered across her face, then gave way to disbelief.
Slowly, she tapped one open. “Oh my God…”
Her face went pale, color draining like water from porcelain.
“…Sophia,” she whispered, voice trembling.
She held the phone toward her. The moment Sophia’s eyes landed on the screen, the world seemed to pause—silent, heavy, and impossibly still.
On the screen were photos from Hotel du Lac. Photos of Magnus and Celia.
Magnus was sitting on the couch. Celia behind him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her body pressed close, her face near his neck.
Sophia took the phone from Emma’s hand.
Her fingers were steady. Only her pulse betrayed her.
The headline stared back at her.
“Mr. Magnus Graves spotted in a private moment with Ms. Celia Thompson, daughter of prominent businessman Jerry Thompson. Sources close to the Graves family hint that wedding bells may not be far off. This is the first publicly confirmed romance linked to the notoriously elusive heir of Empire Group.”
Sophia’s fingers tightened around the phone.
Her face turned pale, but her eyes… her eyes went completely still.
Her heart climbed into her throat as she stared at the photographs. The room felt smaller. Colder. Her breathing slowed, but her chest burned as if something heavy was pressing down on it.
A faint tremor ran through her fingers.
Slowly, she placed the phone back on the table. The sound of it touching the surface was soft, but it felt loud in the suffocating silence. She slid it toward Emma without looking away.
When their eyes finally met, Sophia finally spoke.
“He’s sleeping with Celia,” she said quietly.“He’s in a relationship with her… then what am I to him?”
A bitter smile curved on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. There was so much sadness there that it almost felt suffocating.
They had never treated their marriage as real. There were no promises, no confessions.
But the way he looked at her… the way he held her… the way he stayed close—
