By the time I reach my floor, my head is pounding and my stomach is jumping. I haven’t felt this nervous facing something since my first op as a Delta.
What do I say to her?
How can I ever make this right?
As I unlock my front door, a heavy feeling of dread settles over me.
She’ll never forgive me for this. I don’t deserve forgiveness.
Knight’s sprawled on the couch, so he sees me as soon as I come in. He sits up straight and gives me a questioning look. “Well?”
Since Sofia isn’t out here, I’m assuming she’s asleep in the bedroom. So I keep my voice low as I reply, “He admitted everything.”
Knight grimaces. “Shit. I’m sorry, Rogue.”
I hang my keys on the hook by the door and move into the living room. “He framed her, Knight. He fucking set her up. And I believed it. Eighteen fucking years, and I thought— I don’t even know what to say to her.”
Knight pushes himself up and off the couch. “The truth. You tell her the truth. What she does with it…”
I face my best friend of fifteen years. “She’ll never forgive me. Not for this.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “Maybe not. Or maybe she will. You never know unless you try.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath and release it slowly. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah,” He glances back towards the hallway. “She ate something around nine. Heated up some fajitas for me, too. They were pretty good.”
Pain stabs into my chest.
We could have shared fajitas together.
Not me and Knight. Me and Sofia. We could have shared a meal and pretended things were okay between us. But now…
“I’ll head out,” Knight says. He claps my shoulder again. “I’m sorry. I know it sucks. Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.” I lift my chin. “Thanks for coming on short notice.”
“As if I wouldn’t.” Just before he reaches the door, he turns to add, “Nico.”
It’s so rare that we call each other by our actual names, I jolt a little. “What?”
“Just remember, you’re not the bad guy here. Your father told you something, swore to it, and you believed him. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”
Then he’s gone, the door snicking shut behind him, before I get a chance to argue.
Maybe I’m not a bad person. But I hurt Sofia. I should have known?—
“Shit,” I mutter. “What do I do next?”
I stand in the middle of the living room for a few seconds, thinking. But it’s just a muddle of thoughts in my head. My emotions, usually so carefully controlled, are careening everywhere.
First, check on Sofia, I decide. She’s sleeping, I’m sure, but I can just peek into the room. Make sure she’s okay. Then I can take a shower, maybe crack a beer and watch something mindless on TV while I try to work out what to do next.
Slipping my shoes off, I creep on socked feet down the hallway, being careful not to make a sound. The last thing I want to do is scare Sofia again after what happened yesterday. When I get to her door, I grasp the knob and turn it carefully, then push the door open a few inches to peek inside.
I’m expecting a darkened room with a small lump under the covers. But instead, the lamp on the nightstand is on, and Sofia’s sitting up in bed, reading. She lets out a small yip of shock when she sees me, then slams the book shut and sets it to the side.
“Sorry,” she blurts. “Knight said he didn’t think you’d mind if I read one of your books. I didn’t want to watch TV, and I couldn’t sleep…”
