"Richard Smith, we're done."
The words burned in Sophia's throat as her breath fogged in the freezing night air.
She stood on the porch in her thin coat, shivering, but more from anger than the cold.
Richard finally appeared past eleven, strolling toward her like the world was on pause.
Hands in his pockets.
That lazy smile.
The same look he wore every year when he forgot what day it was.
He held out a gift bag. "Happy birthday, Sophia."
She didn't move. Didn't take it.
Her voice was like steel. "Break up, Richard. That's what this is."
For a second he just laughed, like she'd told a joke.
But her eyes didn't blink, and the laugh died in his throat.
"You… you're serious?" His hand trembled on the gift bag.
"Three birthdays in a row," she shot back. "You never show up. Chemicals mean more to you than I ever did. So yes, Richard. I'm serious."
"Don't say that." His voice cracked. "I know I'm bad at this, but after finals, I'll change. I'll have more time—"
"No." She unclasped the necklace he once gave her, pressed it into his palm, and closed his fingers around it. "Keep your promises. They were empty anyway."
Tears shimmered in his eyes. "Sophia, please. For real?"
She stepped back, her decision final. "If you come after me, I'll go to the police."
Then she turned, leaving him frozen in the snow, and walked inside where warmth and family waited.
It was her birthday.
And for the first time, she chose herself.
***
FIVE YEARS LATER
The Grand Regency Hotel in Houston gleamed like a fortress.
Inside, six of America's top chemical leaders sat at a round table, their presence alone demanding respect.
Mark Williams walked in with his daughter, Sophia.
She moved like a blade—calm, sharp, unshaken.
Every eye turned to her.
But when she saw him… her chest tightened, her stomach twisted, and heat rushed to her cheeks.
Richard Smith.
He sat beside his father, Jay Smith of Smith Innovations.
Perfect posture.
Perfect composure.
That same quiet intensity he'd worn at Harvard.
But to Sophia, it was unbearable.
Every inch of him reminded her of old pain, old anger, old disgust.
She wanted to snap, to shout, to throw the notebook in front of him across the table.
Richard's eyes met hers for a moment.
That single glance carried everything they had left unsaid—hatred, disappointment, contempt.
He looked just as disgusted as she felt.
No one spoke of the past. Not here. Not at this table.
Mark began the meeting. "Thank you all for coming. Tonight we discuss sustainability in our field. Mistakes are too costly."
Jay Smith adjusted his cufflinks. "We've created a catalyst that reduces industrial waste by thirty percent. Clean. Efficient. Ready to scale."
Dr. Charles Langford frowned. "Thirty percent means nothing if the compound can't handle stress."
Victor Hale leaned forward. "Green solutions are expensive. Balance will cost profits."
Evelyn Hartman interrupted sharply. "Victor, balance is not choice. It's survival. Companies resisting change will collapse."
Sophia's lips pressed together at the word balance.
Richard's gaze flicked to her.
Every second, every word, stung like a reminder of everything she had left behind.
Jay Smith continued. "Boldness is key. Hesitation loses opportunities."
Mark's voice was steady. "And haste without control is destruction. Chemicals live. They interact. They change. Understanding is mastery."
Richard finally spoke.
Calm, measured—but cold as ice. "Pressure shows weakness," he said, his eyes briefly on Sophia. "Some compounds break under stress, no matter how polished they seem."
Her hands tightened around her notes.
His words weren't just scientific—they were pointed.
She wanted to glare, to spit, to show him that she hadn't forgotten any of the bitterness between them.
She did nothing.
Not a word.
Just met his eyes with pure steel.
Hate simmered in her chest, sharp and undeniable.
Evelyn Hartman smiled thinly. "Perhaps," she said, "the future isn't about boldness or balance alone—but who can endure the longest reaction without shattering."
The others murmured, discussion returning to formulas and numbers.
But Sophia and Richard said nothing.
Their silence was louder than any words—full of unspoken fury.
***
Sophia was stone silent as they drove back home.
Mark kept asking questions, but she answered with short words, clipped and cold.
Her mind wasn't on the meeting.
It wasn't on anything except one man.
Richard Smith.
Her ex.
The man who had burned her trust years ago.
Mark noticed. "Something is going on. You're staring off… do you know him? Do you like him?"
She didn't hesitate. "Yes, Dad. I know him...and please....i don't like him. And let me make it very clear—nothing will ever happen between us. Ever. Not in this life. Understand?"
Mark studied her. "Are you sure? You—"
"I'm sure," she snapped, sharper than snow in winter. "I hate him, Dad. I can't stand him. He disgusts me. I wouldn't go near him if the world depended on it."
Mark exhaled, satisfied, though still curious.
When they arrived at Tyler's estate just as she had requested, a bouquet waited.
She had told Mark to drop her at Tyler's place.
He obediently dropped her and drove back home, leaving her with her boyfriend, the now love of her life.
She softened briefly, then remembered the tension waiting inside.
His family.
Tyler smiled at her, oblivious, and spoke of a surprise.
"My family is here to meet you," he said.
Sophia froze.
Her pulse hammered.
Tyler's biological family… she barely knew what to expect.
Stepping inside, she saw them: Jay Smith. Beatrice Smith.
And… Richard.
The man she hated with every fiber of her being.
Tyler beamed. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend, Sophia Williams. Sophia, this is my father, Jay Smith, my stepmother, Beatrice Smith…"
He gestured to the man whose eyes bore into hers, hard, cold, full of disdain.
"…and my elder brother—Richard Smith."