“If I hadn’t pulled you off her, how far would you have gone?”
“Why do you care, Sawyer?” I lean in a little, resting my elbows on my knees. “Why exactly are you so worried about Ms. Ford, hm?”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sawyer. I saw the way you were looking at her. How long have you been with her?”
Sawyer’s entire body goes rigid, and his face drops. He sits onthe sofa across from me, burying his face in his hands, then runs them through his hair.
“A year.”
“A year,” I repeat. No matter how much I try to keep my voice cool, the note of disbelief sneaks in. “You’ve been with her for a whole year?”
“Yes, but—”
I cut him off with a deep, bitter laugh. I take the last drag of the cigarette, before putting it out in the glass ashtray and gulping down the rest of my wine.
“There’s no buts here, Sawyer. You didn’t even check if I was okay. You didn’t even ask why I did what I did. You ran straight toward her. Does she matter so much more than me?”
“You’re the one to talk,” he grits out. “I saw the image before it got deleted.”
“Yes, and if you include that little elevator mishap, I’ve slept with Soren a handful of times. I am not in a full-blown secret relationship with him.”
“Sophia…” he tries, looking at me with pleading eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“You’re right,” I agree with a chuckle. “I should’ve done worse, and I would’ve done worse had it not been for your interruption.”
“When did you become so… bitter, and malicious?”
“I’ve always been like that, Sawyer. I didn’t have a traumatic experience that forced me to change; I didn’t wake up one day and suddenly decide to be like this. I’ve always been a callous bitch. You just chose to ignore it until it started affecting you — or rather, your girlfriend. So, tell me, which one’s worse? Me being a malicious bitch, or you turning a blind eye to it?”
“I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
A beat of silence passes between us. I’m hurting on the inside because I know that the question I’m about to ask will change the trajectory of our entire relationship.
“What are you going to do, Sawyer?”
“What?”
“Are you going to break up with her?”
“I can’t, Soph,” he whispers. “I love her.”
A knot forms in my throat, and it’s suffocating. Those three little words shatter the relationship between Sawyer and me completely, and it’s pretty clear where his priorities lie.
“Then you’re dead to me.”
His eyes widen in shock, his mouth parting a little. “What? You can’t be serious, Soph.”
“See,” I chuckle, but it’s a bitter sound, filled with pain. “If my significant other did to you what Astrid did to me, I’d break up with them. Hell, I’d divorce a husband over it because you’re my brother, Sawyer. There’s no one I love more than you in this world. And if someone hates you, they can’t love me in the way I need to be loved, because it means they won’t accept that part of me.”
“You did the same thing to Soren, Sophia. You’re being a hypocrite.”
I lift a brow. “Am I? I don’t run Sinners and Saints, Sawyer. Astrid, and God knows who else does. I sent in Soren’s sex tape, and his own sister chose to release it. So, tell me, how exactly are those two situations similar?”
He falls silent. He knows I’m right, but his pride is too big to let him admit to it. Instead, he runs his hand over his face, his shoulders slumping.
“Don’t make me choose between you two.”
