Sophia slowly turned her head toward Jude, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that spoke louder than any words could.
There was something raw and unfiltered in her gaze—like she was trying, through sheer force of will, to project every chaotic emotion spiraling within her.
Her lips parted slightly, not from surprise, but from the weight of the truth she was finally ready to release.
"But with everything Arthur did to me," she began, her voice quiet yet trembling with a storm beneath it, "I started to realize… maybe not everything was ever really about you." Her words hung in the air like smoke—soft, lingering, yet impossible to ignore.
Her eyes, which once brimmed with light, now seemed dulled, glassy, almost hollow—as if grief had slowly drained the color from her soul.
And though her expression remained still, composed even, a single sniffle betrayed the fierce battle she was waging inside to hold herself together.
