Chapter 7
Five PM. Jake’s parents called, waking him up.
“Where are you?”
He was sweaty, Mia still sleeping in his arms.
Groggily:
“Work ran late. On my way. Tell Sophie to order.”
“She’s not here either. What’s going on with you two…”
Impossible. Sophie had demanded this meeting. Why would she be late?
Jake snapped awake.
Cold dread washed over him.
He called Sophie. She picked up over background noise.
Airport announcements, English and Chinese alternating.
“Where are you? I’m coming now.”
He scrambled out of bed.
No answer, so he kept talking:
“My parents are waiting. Don’t be stubborn-you wanted to get married, right? I’ll handle Mia… no, I won’t keep you waiting anymore. We’ll plan the wedding today, okay?”
Sophie finally spoke, voice ice-cold:
“That day, my parents waited too. Wore their best clothes. Spent three months’ pension on your gift. Kept asking on the way over-what does Jake like
to eat? Should we serve him first?”
Jake froze pulling on his pants, crashed to the floor.
Heart hammering, trying to stay calm:
‘You’re at the airport. I’ll pick you up. Be right there.”
“Don’t bother. I’m leaving.”
Boarding announcement for London flights.
Jake’s voice cracked:
“You’re going abroad? Impossible… your passport’s at home.”
He’d checked after she moved out.
That’s why he’d been so careless-never thought she’d actually leave.
“Picked it up at lunch.”
When he was… with Mia. Lost in each other.
While Sophie stood outside their door, finally done with him.
“I can explain! I was drunk from work drinks, she…”
“Don’t.” Sophie sounded almost bored. No hurt, no anger. “This is the last time we’ll talk. Don’t contact me again.”
Line went dead.
Mia’s arms snaked around him from behind, but he shoved her away, ran to the study.
Tore through the safe. Everything there except the passport.
Jake collapsed on the floor, surrounded by scattered memories.
His promise letter from a year ago:
II shouldn’t have feelings for other women.]
[I shouldn’t have hidden things from Sophie.]
[We’ll be good together from now on, forget the past.]
A paper fell out-seven-year-old love letter.
His hands shook opening it:
[I’ll only ever love Sophie.]
[I’ll never hurt her, never let anyone hurt her.]
[I’ll stay true to this feeling forever.]
Pathetic.
If twenty-year-old Jake knew he’d be the one to break Sophie’s heart…
He’d hate himself.
Current Jake already did.
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.