Sophie's POV
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A full year had passed since that chaotic night, one that had begun with laughter and ended in an accidental marriage between the two strangers: Sophie and Ethan.
Time, as they say, has a peculiar way of moving forward, dragging along unresolved secrets and hidden consequences.
And for Sophie, life had taken a turn into something that resembled normalcy on the surface, at least.
As the first light of dawn stretched lazily across the horizon, its golden rays filtered through the linen curtains of Sophie's room, casting soft shadows on the walls.
The city outside was just beginning to stir, but Sophie was already awake, sitting upright in bed with her arms stretched over her head, releasing a sigh of deep contentment.
After so many sleepless nights filled with uncertainty and guilt, she had finally found a rhythm, a structure, a life that made sense until now.
Today wasn't just any day. Today was pivotal.
She padded softly into the bathroom, the floor cool beneath her feet.
The moment she stepped into the warm embrace of the shower, a wave of calm washed over her.
The water cascaded down her back like a gentle waterfall, rinsing away the remnants of sleep and refreshing her senses. She lingered there for a while, letting the steam clear her thoughts.
The subtle fragrance of lavender body wash filled the air, soothing and familiar.
After her shower, she carefully chose her outfit for the day, a striking royal blue corporate dress, elegantly tailored to fit her slender figure like a glove.
The silk material shimmered faintly as it hugged her curves, falling just below the knees in a tasteful cut that managed to blend sophistication with subtle allure.
She paired the dress with sleek black stilettos that added both height and presence, accentuating her poised posture and graceful steps.
In front of her mirror, she gathered her long, dark hair into a sleek low ponytail, letting a few delicate strands frame her heart-shaped face. The polished look was intentional, powerful yet elegant.
Confident, but soft.
Her mother had thoughtfully packed her breakfast the night before, a delicious turkey sandwich wrapped neatly in foil and a flask of hot coffee. The simple gesture warmed Sophie's heart, a reminder that no matter how far she climbed the corporate ladder, home would always be her anchor.
"Thanks, Mom," she whispered under her breath as she grabbed her bag and headed out the door.
The streets were alive with movement as she made her way to the office. The rhythmic clicking of her heels echoed through the marble lobby of the high-rise as she walked in, earning a few admiring glances from colleagues and interns.
Today, she wasn't just Sophie Patel, the quiet, determined employee.
Today, she was the star of the firm's biggest presentation.
The conference room buzzed with low chatter and the sound of shuffling papers. As Sophie entered, heads turned and smiles greeted her. Her team members gave her encouraging nods, and her nerves slowly began to settle.
She took her place at the front of the room, inhaled deeply, and began her presentation.
Her voice was steady and clear, carrying confidence born of preparation and passion. Every slide was delivered with precision, each point well-articulated.
Her eyes scanned the room, noting how her colleagues leaned in, engaged and attentive. It was working. She had them.
When the final slide faded from the screen, the room erupted in applause.
Sophie blinked in surprise, a genuine smile breaking across her face. It was done. And it was a triumph.
Her boss, a woman known for her strict standards and rare compliments approached with a rare twinkle in her eye.
"Well done, Sophie. That was impressive. Truly." Her words, simple yet weighty, felt like gold in Sophie's ears.
As the meeting concluded and the crowd dispersed, Sophie was called into her boss's office. Her stomach fluttered with nerves. Had she missed something? Was there a mistake?
"Come in," her boss called when Sophie knocked on the door.
She stepped inside the bright, orderly space, its walls lined with awards and books. Her boss gestured for her to sit and handed her a sealed envelope.
"I have something for you. Don't open it here take it home. Consider it a surprise," she said with a mysterious smile.
Curiosity bubbled within her as Sophie slipped the envelope into her bag. She managed a polite thank you before excusing herself, her thoughts swirling as she walked home. What could it be? A performance review? A bonus?
The moment she stepped through her front door, she couldn't contain her excitement. With hurried fingers, she tore open the seal.
Her eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat.
She stared at the paper in disbelief. A promotion.
"AHHH! OH MY GOODNESS!!" she shrieked, sprinting into the kitchen. "MOM! You won't believe this!"
Her mother came rushing out, a dish towel in hand and worry in her eyes.
"What is it? Are you okay?"
Sophie waved the letter like a flag of victory. "I got promoted, Mom! It's official!"
Relief morphed into joy on her mother's face.
"Oh, my baby! I'm so proud of you!" She pulled Sophie into a tight hug, both women laughing with unfiltered joy.
But even in that moment of celebration, fate was already shifting the narrative.
Later that evening, after freshening up, Sophie curled onto the couch for her usual video call with Philip. The relationship had become a routine part of her life. Stable. Predictable. Or so she thought.
The screen lit up with Philip's cheerful face. "Babe!" he grinned. "Guess what?"
Sophie smiled. "What's up?"
"I'm coming to town in three days!" he exclaimed, holding up a digital copy of his plane ticket.
Her smile faltered.
"What?" she asked, her voice edged with disbelief.
"Three days? That's… that's so sudden."
Philip laughed.
"Surprise! I've missed you so much, and besides… I have something special planned."
A chill ran down Sophie's spine. She suddenly felt trapped, her promotion celebration swept away by the looming weight of what she knew was coming.
She stood up, beginning to pace.
"But… don't you have your law exams?"
He waved her concern away. "They can wait. This is more important."
Sophie's thoughts spiraled. She already knew what the surprise was. He had hinted at it for months now, and his family had grown increasingly affectionate toward her. The signs were all there.
A proposal.
She forced a smile, her voice carefully composed. "Okay… see you soon, then."
The call ended, but Sophie didn't sleep much that night. Or the next.
By the third day, her anxiety had bloomed into a full storm.
Philip arrived in style, flanked by his family and beaming with excitement. Her mother had cooked a feast fit for royalty, laughter filled the house, and everything felt too perfect, too staged.
Sophie felt like an actress in someone else's play. And then, as expected, it happened.
Philip walked over to her with a bouquet in hand, his eyes soft and adoring. Before she could even process it, he was on one knee, holding out a ring that sparkled with the weight of forever.
"Sophie Patel," he began, voice thick with emotion.
"You are the light of my life. Will you marry me?"
Around her, the crowd held its breath. Her mother teared up. Philip's relatives looked ready to burst into applause. And Sophie stood frozen in the eye of a storm, caught between honesty and obligation.
She wanted to scream, to confess that she couldn't say yes, not when her heart was somewhere else. Not with Ethan's name still echoing in the deepest corners of her soul.
But instead, she heard herself whisper,
"Yes. Yes…"
The room exploded in celebration. Philip scooped her into his arms, spinning her in joy. But deep inside, Sophie felt like she had just sealed a lie with a diamond.
Her mother joined them in the celebration, crying tears of joy and whispering blessings into Sophie's ear.
The rest of the evening unfolded in a blur congratulations, photos, dinner, and celebration. But Sophie couldn't taste the food.
Her smile felt like a mask. She had agreed to marry a man she didn't love. Her heart ached with guilt and confusion.
Later, when Philip and his family prepared to leave, Sophie stood quietly beside her mother and sister as they exchanged goodbyes. Her mother noticed her daughter's distant look.
"Are you alright, sweetheart?"
"I'm fine, just a little tired," Sophie replied quickly, brushing it off.
As the door closed behind the guests, Sophie's mother burst into spontaneous joy singing, dancing, spinning with elation. Sophie watched her silently, the sight deepening her inner turmoil.
Later that night, her mother passed by her room and saw Sophie sitting in front of her mirror, lost in thought.
"Sophie, are you happy?" she asked gently.
Sophie turned, offering a bright but empty smile. "Yes, Mom! I am. Whatever makes you happy, makes me happy."
Her mother, blinded by joy, hugged her tightly. "You're lucky. Philip really loves you. Unlike the man I ended up with... I'm so happy for you."
"Thank you, Mom," Sophie murmured, the lie twisting like a knife in her chest.
As the house finally fell into silence and sleep, Sophie remained awake, staring at the ceiling. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring.
But tomorrow came with a storm.
The next morning, a delivery arrived for Sophie. An unmarked envelope, strangely familiar. She opened it, and the color drained from her face.
Inside was a legal document: her marriage certificate. The one she had signed that night at the club a year ago.
"Oh no! What have I done?" she cried, stumbling into the bathroom with the paper clenched in her hand. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and shocked.
She was already married, to a stranger.
To Ethan Thompson.
She paced her room, her thoughts spiraling. "I have to fix this!"
Sophie raced to her desk, grabbed her phone, and began frantically searching for Ethan online. Dozens of results popped up, but then one picture caught her eye. A face she remembered, faint but familiar.
She clicked.
It was him.
Ethan Thompson.
Her heart pounded as she found a phone number on his profile. Hands trembling, she dialed.
The phone rang and rang.
Sophie's hands trembled slightly as she held her phone to her ear, waiting for the call to connect. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as the ringing tone filled the silence. Then he finally picked.
"Hello?" A deep voice answered.
"Hi, um... I'm Sophie Patel," she began, her voice tentative and laced with nerves. "I'm calling about... something very important. Are you... Ethan Thompson?"
There was a pause on the other end, long enough to twist her stomach into anxious knots.
"Yes, I'm Ethan Thompson. And you are...?" came the voice—calm, unfamiliar, and dispassionately curious.
Sophie's breath hitched.
It was him. She had already said her name, but apparently, it hadn't registered. Her lips parted again.
"I'm Sophie Patel..." she repeated softly.
"Okay," he replied, his tone still devoid of warmth. "How can I help you?"
The lack of recognition or friendliness in his voice stung. For a moment, she hesitated, taken aback. But she quickly gathered herself and pressed forward with slightly more confidence.
"Uhmm... we need to talk. Not over the phone, but in person."
There was a long, weighted silence. Sophie held her breath, praying he wouldn't demand answers over the phone or simply refuse.
To her surprise, Ethan didn't ask any questions. He didn't inquire about the urgency or nature of the meeting. Instead, he said flatly,
"Okay then. Meet me at Joe's Bar. 3 PM."
And then he hung up.
Sophie blinked, staring at her screen as if it could explain the abrupt end to their conversation.
"That was rude!" she snapped aloud, frustration bubbling over. She'd braced herself for confusion, even anger but not apathy. Not this dismissive indifference.
She had hoped for a flicker of recognition, a question, even a little curiosity. Instead, she was left with a curt address and a dial tone.
Still, she knew she had no choice but to go. This meeting was necessary.
With a sigh, Sophie collapsed onto her bed, momentarily overwhelmed by the tension of it all. Relief surged through her at having made contact, but it was short-lived. Her eyes flicked to the clock and her heart skipped.
"2:30 PM!"
Panic flared. She shot up, heart thudding, and bolted to her wardrobe.
She needed something sharp, composed, something that would mask the inner chaos. Her fingers landed on a sleek black straight gown, luxurious and figure-hugging, the silky fabric catching the light with every subtle movement. It draped down her frame in a clean silhouette, elegant yet commanding.
Quickly, she moved to the mirror and applied a touch of blush, giving her cheeks a warm glow. A bold cherry red gloss added vibrancy to her lips. She left her hair down, long and flowing, brushing it out until it fell, like a curtain of silk around her shoulders.
Grabbing a small clutch, she slipped the marriage certificate inside and slid on her heels. One last glance at the clock—3:15 PM. Late. Swallowing her nerves, she rushed out the door.
When she arrived at Joe's Bar, she spotted several men seated throughout the space. But none were familiar. Her memories of Ethan were faint, clouded by alcohol and time. She couldn't pinpoint which face belonged to him.
Frustrated, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number again. He picked up immediately.
"Hello," they said in unison.
Inside the bar, Ethan's gaze shifted toward the glass entrance and froze.
There she was.
Stunning, poised, yet anxious, her beauty left him momentarily speechless. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with an effortless grace that made his chest tighten. For several seconds, he could do nothing but stare.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" Sophie's voice snapped him back to the present.
He stammered, still staring. "Lo... look forward."
Sophie frowned. "Are you the one in the blue long sleeve?"
"Yeah..." he managed, voice barely above a whisper.
"Okay," she replied and ended the call.
As she walked in, Ethan watched her every step, his eyes tracking her with undisguised fascination. But Sophie, still unsure of him, noticed he hadn't lowered his phone from his ear.
"Hi, Mr. Ethan Thompson! I'm Sophie." she began, standing before him.
But he cut her off.
"Patel. Sophie Patel, right?"
She nodded. "Yes."
Only then did Ethan realize he was still holding his phone. Flustered, he dropped it onto the table and attempted to mask his reaction with a casual, almost arrogant air.
"So... what's the essence of this meeting?" he asked, leaning back and crossing his legs as if they were about to discuss the weather.
Before Sophie could respond, he held up a finger to interrupt her again, an irritating gesture she didn't appreciate.
"Why does he keep doing this?" she fumed silently.
"Waiter," Ethan called, ignoring Sophie's rising tension. "This table is too empty. Get us a bottle of champagne and two beers."
Sophie's eyes widened.
"Hell no!" she interjected sharply. "Alcohol got us into this mess. No more of that. Waiter, please, just water. Thank you."
Ethan turned to her, intrigued.
"Mess'?" he echoed.
He then waved off the alcohol order and nodded for water instead, his curiosity clearly piqued.
Once the waiter returned with the water and poured it, the atmosphere thickened with tension. Ethan's eyes locked on Sophie, his stare deep and unrelenting, as if he were trying to read her soul through her dress.
The intensity made her skin crawl. She shifted uncomfortably, her fingers tightening around her glass.
When the waiter finally left, the silence became unbearable.
Sophie blurted out, voice slightly raised and urgent, "We're married!"
Ethan blinked and then laughed. Loud and long.
The deep, rich sound filled the space, a stark contrast to the serious tone Sophie had taken. His laughter went on for almost two minutes. When he finally sobered, he shook his head.
"Please. I don't have time for jokes. Just get to the point. What's this really about?"
"I'm serious," Sophie insisted, her voice firmer now. She pulled the certificate from her bag and handed it to him. "We're legally married. This came to my house. I don't know why you didn't get your copy."
Ethan accepted the document with a smirk—but that smirk faded quickly as his eyes scanned the paper.
His amusement turned to disbelief.
"This is... unbelievable," he muttered, scanning the names, the date—February 8th.
Something flickered in his expression. A memory. A haze of music, alcohol, and blurred moments. His jaw tightened.
Sophie pressed on.
"I called this meeting so we could fix this. Because..." she lifted her hand, showing her engagement ring,
"...I just got engaged. And I can't disappoint my fiancé."
His eyes narrowed as they dropped to the sparkling diamond on her finger. A long pause followed.
"I still can't believe this," he muttered. Then he straightened, his voice cool. "But I've got better things to do. What do you suggest we do?"
"I want us to get an annulment," Sophie said.
"I know it may be long and stressful, but please, help me with this. I'm getting married soon."
Ethan stood suddenly, tossing the paper back on the table. His tone was cold, final.
"Nahh. I'm not doing that. The certificate came to your house, not mine. It's your problem. Fix it yourself. I have somewhere to be."
He turned to leave.
"No! Please," Sophie cried, her voice cracking. "You have to help me!"
Ethan paused but didn't turn around.
"Look, just come clean to your fiancé and your family. Ask them for help."
"I told you! I can't!" she shouted.
"They can't know. My fiancé's almost done with law school. I won't derail his future with this!"
Ethan's voice came back, cool and sarcastic. "Honesty is the best policy. Soso, be honest with him. He'll understand."
Sophie froze.
Did he just call her... Soso?
She sank into her chair, burying her face in her hands, the tears finally spilling over. "What am I going to do now?" she whispered, despair thick in her voice.
Outside, Ethan started his car but glanced back through the window.
Sophie was crying. Hard. Her shoulders shaking, her head bowed.
Something shifted in him. A tug. A strange, unexpected ache.
He turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car. Moments later, he was back at the table, dropping his handkerchief in front of her.
Sophie looked up, startled.
"Here," he said quietly.
She took it, her fingers brushing against his.
Ethan sat down, his tone softer now. "Look... I know you're in a tough spot. Maybe we can figure this out together."
"Really?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
He nodded. "Yes, really. Let's take a closer look at this certificate and explore options for an annulment."
She handed it to him again, hope flickering in her chest.
As they reviewed it, their conversation gradually lost its tension. They spoke more freely now, almost as partners. Sophie managed a small smile.
"Thank you," she murmured.
Ethan met her gaze, returning her smile. "Don't mention it."
As they continued, Sophie caught herself noticing the curve of his smile, the way his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck. Her heart fluttered unexpectedly.
She shook the thought away. But deep down, a quiet curiosity stirred.
Maybe, just maybe... this was the beginning of something neither of them saw coming.