SOPHIE'S POV
The coffee shop smells like vanilla and betrayal.
Sophie is ordering her usual latte when she sees him. Jackson is sitting at a corner table with a newspaper he's not actually reading, watching her over the top of it like he's been waiting for her to show up. Like he knew exactly what time she'd be here.
He smiles when their eyes meet.
Sophie's first thought is that this is coincidence. That Jackson just happens to be getting coffee at the same time she does. That the universe is doing something cruel and random.
Then it happens again.
Two days later at the gallery where she's just started working as an assistant curator. Sophie is hanging new paintings when Jackson walks in. He's dressed like he's there for business. He moves through the gallery like he appreciates art instead of just collecting it as an investment.
The owner introduces them. Jackson pretends they've never met before. Sophie goes along with it because explaining that she used to be married to him feels too heavy for a Tuesday afternoon.
Jackson spends an hour looking at paintings. The whole time, Sophie feels his eyes on her. Not in an angry way. In a way that feels like he's trying to memorize her again.
When he leaves, he tells the owner the gallery has great taste. Then he looks at Sophie and says, "Really great taste."
By the third time, Sophie knows it's not coincidence.
She's at the restaurant with Maya, her best friend, when Jackson walks in. He's alone. He sits at a table across the room like he just happens to have picked the same restaurant at the same time on a Thursday afternoon.
Maya sees him before Sophie does. Maya's eyes go narrow and sharp.
"Is that the guy?" Maya asks. "Is that Jackson Sterling?"
Sophie nods. She can't lie anymore. Not to Maya. Not after Maya moved from Barcelona to Manhattan just to support her while she figured out how to be alive again.
"He's everywhere," Sophie whispers. "I don't know if it's real or if I'm just being paranoid."
Maya takes a sip of her water and leans back. When she speaks, her voice is cold in a way Sophie hasn't heard before.
"That's not coincidence," Maya says flatly. "That's intentional. That's a man making sure you know he exists. That's a man trying to get into your head."
Sophie knows Maya is right. But knowing something and accepting it are two different things.
The next day at the gallery, Jackson appears during Sophie's lunch break.
She's in the back room eating a sandwich when he finds her. He doesn't knock. He just walks in like he belongs everywhere, like boundaries have never applied to him.
"Hey," he says. He's holding two coffees. "I thought you might want one."
Sophie stares at the coffee he's offering. She should take it. Should accept it like it's a small gesture from an old friend. But accepting it feels like accepting something much bigger than caffeine.
She takes it anyway.
"Thanks," she says.
Jackson sits across from her like they do this all the time. Like he didn't spend their entire marriage making her feel small and stupid and never good enough.
"I've been thinking about you a lot," he says. His voice is soft. Honest sounding. "About us. About what I did to you."
Sophie sets down her sandwich. She can't eat now. Her stomach is too tight.
"Jackson, you can't keep showing up like this."
"I know," he says. "I know I don't deserve your time. But I need you to know something. I made a mistake with the affair. I made a huge mistake."
Sophie has heard this before. Men always say this when they want something. They say they made a mistake when they want the thing they lost to come back.
"You already said that three years ago," Sophie says quietly.
"But I didn't mean it the same way then," Jackson leans forward. "I was angry when you left. I was confused. I told myself I didn't care. That you weren't important. But Sophie, I've thought about you every single day since the divorce."
Something inside Sophie wants to believe him. The part of her that's still broken from the marriage, that still has soft edges when it comes to him. That part wants to believe that he's changed. That he's been suffering the way she suffered.
But she knows better now.
"Why are you telling me this?" Sophie asks.
Jackson's face shifts. He looks sad now. Or he's very good at pretending to look sad.
"Because I can't stand watching you with Ethan Cole," he says. His voice cracks just a little. "Because I'm losing my mind knowing that you're building a life with someone who doesn't actually care about you. Who's using you."
Sophie's entire body goes cold.
"Ethan is not using me."
"Isn't he?" Jackson sets his coffee down. He leans back like he's settling in to tell her something she needs to know. "Sophie, think about it. A man like Ethan Cole doesn't fall in love. He builds alliances. He makes strategic moves. You're a move in his war against my family."
"No," Sophie says. But the word feels weak.
"Yes," Jackson says gently. "He saw an opportunity. He saw my ex-wife. He saw someone who could hurt me. And he made his move."
Sophie wants to argue. Wants to tell Jackson that he's wrong about Ethan. That Ethan is nothing like him. But a tiny seed of doubt just sprouted in her chest and she can't make it stop growing.
Jackson stands up. He moves toward the door but stops in the frame.
"I'm not trying to make you doubt him," he says. "I'm just trying to make sure you see the truth. That you understand that the only person who's ever loved you for real is me. I know I messed up. I know I don't deserve another chance. But at least I was honest about wanting you."
Then he's gone.
Sophie sits alone in the back room of the gallery holding a coffee she didn't want and thinking about things she doesn't want to think about.
That night, Ethan asks about her day.
Sophie tells him it was fine. She doesn't mention Jackson. She doesn't mention the coffees or the conversations or the way Jackson looked at her like she's something he's lost and wants back.
She tells herself it's because there's nothing to tell. Jackson hasn't threatened her. He's just reminded her that he exists. He's just made her feel like maybe she made a mistake by trusting Ethan so completely.
The real reason she doesn't tell him is shame. She's ashamed that Jackson's words affected her. She's ashamed that she's wondering if he's right about Ethan. She's ashamed that some part of her heart still responds to Jackson's voice even though she knows better.
So she lies. She holds Ethan close that night and pretends everything is fine. Pretends she's not spiraling. Pretends that doubt isn't eating her alive from the inside out.
Friday afternoon at the gallery, Sophie is helping arrange a new exhibition when the door opens.
Jackson walks in.
He's not alone this time.
Ethan Cole stands in the doorway of the gallery holding flowers. He's early. He's come to pick her up before they had planned. He's walked in at exactly the wrong moment and he's seeing exactly what he needs to see.
Jackson and Sophie, standing close together. Jackson holding two glasses of wine. Jackson looking at Sophie like she's the only thing that matters in the world.
Sophie's heart actually stops.
Ethan's entire body goes rigid in the doorway. His face goes blank in a way that scares her more than anger ever could. Something dangerous flashes across his dark eyes. Something that looks like he's just realized something he can't unfeel.
The flowers in his hand drop to the floor.
"Ethan," Sophie says. She moves toward him but he doesn't move toward her.
Jackson sets down the wine glasses carefully. He looks between Sophie and Ethan and something like satisfaction crosses his face.
"I was just leaving," Jackson says. He walks past Ethan toward the door like he owns the space. Like he won something.
Ethan doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just watches Jackson leave with eyes that have gone completely dark.
Sophie watches the flowers lying on the gallery floor and understands that something just broke between her and Ethan and she doesn't know how to fix it.