Page 74 of Happily Ever After

“But it is about things that can’t keep going the way they have been,” Essie continued. “And I’m not going to tiptoe around them anymore.”

Sophie looked up then, confusion flickering across her face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Essie said calmly. “That you’re at a point in your life where drifting along isn’t an option anymore. Not with everything that’s going on.”

Sophie’s mouth tightened. “I’m not drifting.” Then quickly, “I didn’t ask for my mother to die. Or to wind up pregnant.”

“I understand that,” Essie said, even though she very much wanted to point out the pregnancy could have been avoided. “But here you are.”

Silence stretched between them, thick but not hostile.

“You’re pregnant,” Essie went on. “You’re in the middle of multiple lawsuits against your father and me, the two people who, along with your brother, care more about you than anyone else in this world. You don’t have steady work. And you’re moving through all of it as if someone else is going to step in and take care of everything.”

Sophie’s eyes flashed. “That’s not fair.”

Essie nodded. “You’re right. It’s not fair. But it is accurate.”

Sophie frowned and she squirmed like she couldn’t get comfortable. “You don’t understand what it’s like.”

“I understand more than you think,” Essie said. “But this isn’t about comparing experiences. It’s about reality. Your reality.”

Sophie put her cup on the coffee table and crossed her arms defensively. “So, what—you’re giving me a lecture now?”

“No,” Essie said. “I’m asking you questions.”

Sophie’s jaw clenched. “Like what?”

“Like what you plan to do with your life,” Essie said. “Not someday. Not eventually. Now. And when the baby comes.”

Sophie stared at her. “I don’t know.”

Essie nodded again. “That’s exactly what I thought you’d say.”

Sophie’s eyes filled unexpectedly. “You think I want to be like this?”

“I think you’re scared,” Essie said. “And I think you’ve been hiding behind that fear for a long time. Scared of growing up. Scared of responsibility. Scared that you’re going to fail if you try anything harder than making a video.”

Sophie’s voice cracked as she said, “You don’t get to say that.”

Essie leaned forward. “I do. Because I’ve seen it with my own eyes. And because I care what happens to you.”

Sophie swallowed hard. “I’m trying.”

“You might think you are, but truly trying looks different from what you’re doing,” Essie said gently. “Trying means making choices, even when they’re uncomfortable. It means failing sometimes but learning from that failure and doing things differently. It means owning the reality you’re living in.”

Sophie laughed bitterly. “Easy for you to say.”

“Not easy,” Essie corrected. “But necessary.”

Sophie stood abruptly, pacing a few steps away. “You’re acting like I’m some kind of screwup.”

“I’m acting like you’re an adult,” Essie said evenly. “Which is something no one seems to have done with you for a very long time.”

Sophie stopped short, her back to Essie. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Essie asked. “People rush to fix things for you. To explain things away. To excuse behavior that wouldn’t be excused if it came from anyone else.”

Sophie turned around, tears spilling freely now. “I didn’t ask anyone to do that.”