Sophie becomes a successful businesswoman

**STEVEN WOLKER’S POV

***TWO YEARS LATER…

I was putting on the final piece of clothing, a navy blue blazer that matched everything else perfectly. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I was somewhat presentable. I searched for the car keys and wallet, noticed Sophie's photo in the bedside table frame beside the bed, and sighed. It had been two years without my wife, two years since I lost the most incredible person I knew.

I've never been the same since, dedicating myself to work tirelessly, and in these two years, I've merely existed. I run my fingers over her smiling face in the photo; luckily, I found it in the closet among her things, and it's what has sustained me these years, although it has also made me break down at times.

I hurriedly left the house; today was the big event for Miller Corporation, and I was one of the guests. In a few minutes, I arrived at the venue and noticed that many people were there, an elegant event that I found cliché; I didn't particularly enjoy it, but Miller insisted a lot on this invitation. It was a jewelry fashion show from their collection, something very refined.

"Good to see you here, Steven!" Mr. Miller catches me by surprise.

"Of course, I would come to show my support."

I smile, and he excuses himself to greet the numerous people arriving. I head to the drinks counter before the show begins.

Leaning on the counter, waiting for the drink to be served, I look around. But at that exact moment, my world stops immediately. In front of me was the most beautiful woman at the party, in the city, or anywhere else.

Sophie was a few meters away, distracted, with a massive smile. Her blonde hair was long; I don't know if she seemed taller, but she was incredibly stunning. She looked light, smiling and greeting some people. I was completely paralyzed, enchanted to see her like this, like I'd never seen her before.

"Sir... sir..." the bartender tries to hand me the drink. "Here's your drink, sir."

I glance for a few seconds, taking the glass in my hand and bringing it to my lips, finishing it in one go. But I never lost sight of her for a moment. As I take a step towards her, that darn son of the party's host approaches her, putting his hand on her back.

I didn't divert my gaze from her momentarily; it was as if it wasn't real. I had gone two years without even looking at that person for a second, and then suddenly, she was in front of us, completely beautiful and stunning.

Some people get in my way, and I lose sight. I search for her once again, but I can't see her—nor that guy, whom I don't like at all.

"Mr. Wolker!" I hear.

I look back; it's some investor wanting to discuss business matters, and that moment was not appropriate. I ignore him and try to find her once again. I go to all four corners, but nothing; I start to think I'm hallucinating. It must be someone very similar; it's not possible. I stop panting, put my hands on my waist, tilt my head back, look at the ceiling full of lights, and take a deep breath. Almost.

Everyone starts moving towards the catwalk; I have no head at all to look at women parading. I want to see my woman, actually. Yes, my woman, and always will be.

"Let's go, Steven!" Miller appears and pats my back.

"Ah, I think I'll stay here."

"None of that, please accompany me," he insists.

I can't refuse since he invited me so considerately and seemed to want my company; I wouldn't be rude.

I follow him to the front row of chairs, sitting next to him. He crosses his legs, looking at the bright white catwalk. Since it was a jewelry fashion show, being highly visible was necessary. I still look through the chairs, one by one, and nothing. It's not possible.

The show begins, and I observe each model's parade down the runway. Its diversity, embracing all the most varied shapes and colors, catches my attention. There's no standard apart from the dazzling jewels distributed all over the bodies of numerous models.

"She's very talented!" Miller asserts in my ear.

"I don't know her, but I must admit."

I agree with him, without a doubt. It even distracted me slightly from the situation, which grabbed my attention when I arrived.

When the last model enters the runway, it becomes empty, and it seems like there's still something to happen. An unknown male voice takes the microphone, and I can hear it.

"Now I present to you the big revelation. Jewelry designer and brand founder Mère et Fils. Sophie Madson!"

At that moment, it's as if I'm alone in that vast space; I don't see anyone else around me; I don't even consider the numerous applause that everyone is making, standing up. I take a while, stand up thinking, when she appears, in a flowing golden dress, with a considerable side slit that exposes her skin—a true jewel.

She walks smiling down the catwalk, thanking the compliments from many cheering people, and I'm paralyzed. If I already thought she was incredible, now even more.

When she passes by me, she doesn't notice, but after she spins at the end of the catwalk, our eyes meet. I see Sophie is slightly shocked, and I'm there with no apparent reaction. But then she ignores it, quickening her pace and disappearing. Without thinking twice, I left where I was, running to the entrance of the dressing room area. But when I manage to get closer even a bit, a series of people surround her, and no matter how hard I try, I can't get closer.

"Sophie!" I shout.

I give up; now she's being quite harassed, and I wouldn't be able to say a word. As I wait for a gap, I remember the name of her jewelry brand, Mère et Fils. It was French, and its translation would be Mother and Son. She's amazing.

After a long time, I recognize her from afar when she's freer, without people around her, and hurries towards the bathroom. Now's the time.

When I reached the place, I waited because I knew she'd be in there, and indeed, she came out somewhat distracted, and I took her by surprise.

"I lived there two years for this moment!" I assert convincingly.

She takes a step back, and I sense her restlessness, but soon, she regains her elegant and indifferent posture.

"I don't see the need for this moment," she replies.

I close my eyes, listening to that voice how I dreamed of it countless nights. I never forgot that tone; at this moment, I felt like an addict satisfying my withdrawal.

"But of course, you left. Without saying goodbye... nothing!" I get nervous.

"I don't have time for this conversation. Excuse me!"

She tries to pass me, and I step in front of her again. I know her breathing is labored, and I'm not that insignificant.

"Let's talk, please, listen to me for five minutes. I love you!" I plead.

"It's too late, Steven. I don't want your belated love."

As I open my mouth, that jerk, Mr. Perfection, arrives and stands beside her. I clenched my fists; I wanted to punch him for taking her away from me, but I didn't want to cause a scene at the event where she was the star. Then he touches Sophie's waist, and I watch every move.

"I found my companion. Let's go!" he pulls her.

"Let's go!"

Then they walked away from me, and if I had been stabbed right in the middle of my chest, I'm sure it would hurt less than what I was feeling now. I was lost.