POV: Sophie Mitchell
Her mother's apartment is smaller than Sophie remembers.
That's the first thing she notices when she walks in. The walls seem closer. The furniture seems bigger. Or maybe Sophie is just different now and everything else stayed the same.
Her mother is in the kitchen making dinner and she looks good. That's the second thing Sophie notices. Her mother's color is better. She's gained weight in her face. She's not moving like she's in pain anymore.
The medical care is working.
Derek Sterling's money is working.
"You look stressed," her mother says. She doesn't turn around from the stove. She just says it like she's been waiting for Sophie to arrive with all that tension written on her face.
"I'm fine," Sophie says. She sets her bag down and sits at the kitchen table. This is where they always sit. This table has been in her mother's apartment for fifteen years. It's scratched and worn and perfect.
Her mother turns around and looks at her directly.
"You're lying," her mother says. "You've been lying for weeks. I can see it in the way you move. You're carrying something heavy."
Sophie doesn't answer. Her mother has always been able to see through her.
They eat dinner in mostly silence. Pasta and salad and garlic bread. Her mother cooks the way she's always cooked, with love that she can't quite express in words so she puts it into food instead.
By the time they're clearing plates, Sophie's anxiety is climbing into her throat.
"Tell me what's happening," her mother finally says. She sits back down at the table and waits.
Sophie sits across from her. She looks at her mother's face and sees the woman who raised her alone. The woman who worked two jobs and still came home exhausted and still asked Sophie about her day. The woman who taught her that if you want something, you have to be willing to work for it yourself.
"I have a business opportunity," Sophie starts carefully. "It's big. It's risky. And it's going to change everything."
Her mother waits for more.
"There's a company," Sophie continues. "I have a chance to take over this company. To run it. To make it mine."
"That sounds like a good thing," her mother says. "Why do you sound like it's not?"
Sophie picks at a thread on the tablecloth.
"Because the person who currently owns it is someone I used to know," Sophie finally says. "Someone I used to be married to."
Her mother's expression doesn't change but Sophie can see that something shifts inside her.
"James," her mother says. She says his name like she's been waiting years to say it.
"Yes," Sophie says.
Her mother gets up and goes to the kitchen. She comes back with two glasses of wine. She sets one in front of Sophie and keeps one for herself.
"Are you doing this for revenge?" her mother asks.
"I'm doing this because it's the right business move," Sophie says. But her voice doesn't sound convinced even to her.
"That's not an answer," her mother says gently.
Sophie takes a drink of wine. It's too warm and she doesn't really like it but she drinks it anyway because it gives her something to do besides look at her mother's face.
"Revenge tastes sweet for about five seconds," her mother continues. "And then it tastes like nothing. And then it tastes like poison. And you're the one who has to swallow it."
Sophie feels something angry rise up inside her.
"You want me to just forgive him?" Sophie asks. "You want me to just let him win because taking back what he took from me makes me a bad person?"
"No," her mother says. "I want you to figure out what you actually want. Because taking his company won't feel like victory. It'll feel like survival. And you're already surviving, baby. You've been surviving for three years."
Sophie stands up and walks away from the table. She goes to the window and looks out at the city. Somewhere out there, James is probably in his penthouse. Somewhere out there, he has no idea that his world is about to change.
"I'm not doing this because I want revenge," Sophie says to the window. "I'm doing this because he broke something in me and I need to prove that I'm not broken."
"You're not broken," her mother says from the table. "You're hurt. There's a difference."
Sophie turns around to face her.
"Do you still love him?" her mother asks.
The question hangs in the air between them like a blade.
"No," Sophie says immediately. "Of course I don't."
Her mother takes a long drink of wine and looks at Sophie like she's looking at a stranger.
"You're lying," her mother says quietly. "You've never been able to lie to me and you still can't."
Sophie feels tears come up and she pushes them down. She's been trying not to cry for three weeks.
"It doesn't matter if I love him," Sophie says. "Love isn't enough. Love is what got me into this mess in the first place. He loved me, or he said he did, and then he threw me away like I was something he could use and discard."
Her mother stands up and comes to the window. She puts her hand on Sophie's shoulder.
"The only way to win against someone is to stop playing their game," her mother says. "As long as you're focused on him, as long as you're measuring your worth against what he did to you, you're still in his game. You're still letting him control you."
Sophie leans away from her mother's touch.
"I'm taking control back," Sophie says. "I'm taking his company. I'm proving that I'm worth something."
"You already proved that," her mother says. "You built a coffee shop. You built a life. You did that without him. You did that despite what he did. That's not enough proof for you?"
Sophie doesn't answer because she knows her mother is right and that makes her even more angry.
"If you do this," her mother says slowly, "if you take his company, James will know that you did it. He'll know that you came back for revenge. He'll look at you and he'll see someone he hurt. But will he see someone he still loves? Or will he see someone who became exactly like the men who hurt you?"
Sophie's hands are shaking.
"I have to go," she says. She picks up her bag.
"Sophie," her mother calls out. "Don't do this because you're angry. Do this because it's the right thing. Do it because you actually want to run that company. Do it because you stopped playing James's game and started playing your own."
Sophie doesn't answer. She just leaves her mother's apartment with her mother's words following her like ghosts.
By the time she's in her car, Sophie can't breathe properly.
She sits in the driver's seat and her hands are shaking and she's asking herself the same question her mother asked.
Does she still love James?
She thinks about him in the coffee shop. The way he looked exhausted. The way he ordered coffee without seeing her. The way his eyes are empty in every photo.
She thinks about the fake marriage where the only real thing was how he looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention.
She thinks about the divorce papers that came with a check and no explanation.
And she thinks about tomorrow. Tomorrow she walks into a shareholders meeting and James will see her and he'll understand what's happening. He'll understand that she came back.
But what will he understand after that? Will he understand that she's trying to win? Or will he understand that she's trying to save him from himself?
Sophie starts the car and drives toward her apartment.
She doesn't have the answer to her mother's question.
She doesn't know if she still loves James or if she loves the idea of making him love her the way he should have from the beginning.
And that uncertainty is the most dangerous thing of all.
Because tomorrow she's going to walk into a room and face the man who broke her heart and she still doesn't know if she's coming to destroy him or save him.
And the worst part is that he won't know either.
He'll just see her and remember and break all over again.
Just like she's been breaking since he left.