Ch. 4: Midnight Terms

There were things Sophia had learned never to say aloud, and most of them were about he.

She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more. "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." "You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to.

Money could buy a great many things, he had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most. Sophia crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way he was watching without seeming to.

She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more. There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do.

Sophia crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way he was watching without seeming to. "You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered.

Every choice had a price. Sophia had known that for years, and still the knowing never made it easier.

For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all. There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do. Money could buy a great many things, he had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most.