Avalon’s voice breaks my train of thought. I turn to face her, lowering the empty glass on the table. She glances behind me, then her eyes turn back to me. She steps closer, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper.
“Sawyer’s here.”
Immediately, I spin around, completely taken aback. My parents were here already, taking pictures with me, and bringing me graduation gifts. However, it’s been two hours since they left, and Ididn’t think I’d even see Sawyer anytime soon.
He’s wearing his best suit, carrying a bouquet of red roses in his hands. He spots me, then starts walking in my direction until he reaches me. He’s a couple of steps in front of me, and my entire body goes rigid. I’m on high alert because the man standing in front of me is not the same boy I grew up with. I no longer recognize him, and I don’t want to give him any weakness to exploit.
“Sawyer,” my voice is icy-cold. “What are you doing here?”
“These are for you,” he extends the flowers, and with a suspicious gaze, I take them. “I came to congratulate you on your graduation, Soph.”
“Why?”
“Because…” he steps closer, glancing behind me. As if on cue, Grace groans when she’s being pulled away by Avalon, hating that she won’t be able to listen in on the conversation. Once we’re alone, Sawyer looks back at me. “I’m sorry, Sophia. I’m truly sorry for hurting you, and I know it’s too late. But I am hoping that one day, you’ll be able to forgive me.”
“Oh, I’ve forgiven you,” I chuckle. “But that’s all I did, Sawyer. I forgave you for my own peace of mind, not yours.”
He swallows thickly, hurt flashing through his eyes. The same emotion pierces through my chest, but I force myself to keep my head high. He sighs, rubbing his temples, while trying to get a grip on his composure that seems to be faltering with each passing second.
“So, that’s it, then?” He chuckles, the bitter sound filling my ears. “There’s no way for us to be close again?”
“I no longer trust you, Sawyer. Once I stop trusting someone, it’s done. I can’t trust you again, because there’s no point. I’ll be civil with you and Astrid at family functions, of course. I’m not some ill-mannered person, but that’s where my kindness starts and ends.”
“I lost you,” he concludes.
“You did,” I nod. “It’s not the fact that you are with Astrid. It’s the fact that you betrayed me, and it took you months to properly apologize. I’m writing you out of my life, Sawyer. We’re related by blood, but you’re no longer my family.”
“Sophia,” his voice almost turns pleading. “Please.”
“Don’t beg, you’re a Sloane. Begging is for the weak,” I retort, gripping the roses in my hands tightly. “Maybe, one day, in the future, you and I will be able to talk without me hating your very existence. Until then, don’t talk to me. Don’t contact me, don’t even try to be within the same vicinity as me unless necessary.”
Sawyer swallows, but nods nonetheless. “Alright. I’ll respect that. But I am sorry.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, too.”
Sawyer casts one, last lingering glance in my direction, and as soon as he turns around and walks away, it’s like a piece of me is leaving with him. It hurts terribly, but I know that I’d resent him even more if I forced myself to have a relationship with him.
So, I’m letting go of what’s hurting me, and focusing on my life.
Because the best chapters of my life are just starting.
EPILOGUE I
Sophia’s manor comes into view, and it’s the first time I can actually take a good look at the building. It’s fucking massive, with too many people around. They’re all working, and I’m getting side-eyes from the house manager, Elliot. He’s the one who takes me into the waiting area, which is just a fancy term for a smaller living room.
“You’re one cocky bastard, aren’t you?”
I did not expect that the first person I’d see on the inside would be Sophia’s father. He storms toward me, standing a couple of feet away, staring me down. His gaze is scrutinizing, eyes narrowed as he looks at me up and down a handful of times.
“What do you want, Ford?” He all but spits out my surname like venom on his tongue.
“I’m here to officially introduce myself,” I say, one hand holding a massive bouquet of red roses, extending my other hand for him. “I’m Soren Ford, your daughter’s boyfriend.”
A myriad of emotions run over his face, going from pure shock, to the anger thatI am used to seeing in another member of the Sloane family. His eyes narrow at me dangerously, his body going taut with thinly concealed fury that bubbles below the surface.
“Repeat that,” he orders.
“I’m Sophia’s boyfriend.”
