Chapter 59 Cinnamon
Sophie drove into the Sinclair mansion, excitement bubbling in her chest. It had been a while since she last saw Ethan. As she parked, she reached into the back seat and pulled out a reusable container filled with her freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Ethan's favorite, Whenever she made a new batch, she always saved some for him.
She'd come early today, Hugo had told her Ethan would be home today. As she stepped onto the front porch, the door opened and there he was, dressed in his usual crisp, corporate outfit.
"Ethan? You're leaving now?" she asked, disappointment flickering in her voice.
"Why didn't you call to let me know you were coming?" Ethan asked coolly, his usual distant tone in place.
"I wanted to surprise you," Sophie said, walking up to him and handing him the container.
Ethan accepted it, trying his best to mask the spark of excitement in his eyes but he couldn't completely hide it.
"Don't go yet, Ethan," Sophie pleaded gently. "Stay for a while. I heard you don't have to be in the office today."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "Heard? Heard from who?"
Sophie smiled, a playful glint in her eye. "I've got my eyes on you."
Ethan let out a small smile, the one that had been threatening to break free since she handed him the cinnamon rolls.
"Ethan, you have to try it before it gets cold. It's really fresh," Sophie said, stepping closer, the warmth in her voice laced with quiet insistence. "I woke up extra early just to get them done in time." She looked up at him, eyes hopeful, trying to stall his inevitable departure.
Ethan hesitated.
Sophie had always been the one person he couldn't say no to.
After their father died, Ethan had felt an unshakable responsibility toward her. Sophie had been just a baby then too young to form memories of the man they both lost.
Sophie grew up surrounded by other male figures, uncles, grand-uncles, family friends. She had no shortage of people who called themselves "father figures." But Ethan knew it wasn't the same. None of them carried that quiet, invisible thread that linked her to the father she never met.
Only Ethan did.
He had spent years trying to fill that space for her. Not by pretending to be someone he wasn't, but by showing up. By protecting her. By knowing, instinctively, when she needed him even when she didn't say it out loud.
Ethan paused for a moment before nodding.
"Alright, I'll stay for an hour more," he said.
"Woohoo!" Sophie rejoiced, grabbing his hand and leading him inside.
"How've you been, Sophie?" he asked, his voice full of love and concern.
"I've been great!" Sophie replied joyfully.
"Hmmm," Ethan said, narrowing his eyes. "You seem happier than usual. Hope you're not doing anything illegal?" he added, his tone suddenly serious.
Sophie chuckled. "Recreational drugs are trendy these days," she replied mischievously.
"Sophie!" Ethan called out sternly.
Sophie burst into louder laughter.
"Sophie, I know you feel like you're all grown"
She cut him off, laughing triumphantly. She knew how much he cared about her, and she also knew how strict he could be so of course, she loved teasing him just for the fun of it.
"Ethan, I'm fine! I'm just kidding," she said, still smiling.
Ethan knew her too well. Sophie was feisty and extroverted, but she carried herself with grace. She didn't engage in anything mischievous or reckless; he trusted her. He knew she liked pushing his buttons, and he let her. He loved the way she laughed when she felt like she'd gotten under his skin.
No, but for real you seem to glow differently," Ethan said, scanning Sophie with a curious warmth in his eyes.
Sophie felt her heart skip a beat. She wanted to tell him the truth that she had found love. The kind of love she had always hoped for. She wasn't the type to settle for less or mediocrity, she hoped for true qenuine love, and she had found it. But it was definitely a bit complicated because it's with Hugo.
She thought about his spilling it anyways, butHugo had asked her to wait. He said he'd talk to Ethan himself.
So, for now, silence felt safer.
She smiled, masking everything behind a light shrug. "Maybe it's just good skincare," she joked, hoping he wouldn't look too closely.
"I'm going to plate the cinnamon rolls I brought," Sophie said, rising from the couch with a bright smile. "You have to try it while it's still warm."
Ethan gave her a playful look, amused by her excitement. "Go on then, chef. Impress me."
Sophie grinned and headed to the kitchen, carrying the reusable container in both hands like it was a gift. Once inside, she moved quickly, opening the container and inhaling the rich scent of cinnamon and melted glaze. She picked out the best piece, the center one of course, and placed it neatly on a small ceramic plate.
She glanced toward the lounge as she grabbed a fork, then turned back to the container. Quietly, almost habitually, she sealed the rest and slid it into the fridge she knew Ethan would want another piece later, and she liked being the one to make sure he had something waiting.
Just as she stepped back from the fridge, she heard soft but purposeful footsteps. She turned.
Lena.
She stood just inside the kitchen doorway, wearing a short, form-fitting casual gown that clung effortlessly to her curves. Her hair was down, loose and striking a soft contrast to the sharpness in her eyes.
Sophie smiled, genuine but slightly caught off guard. "Hiii."
Lena stepped into the kitchen with a kind of calm grace, her posture poised, voice warm but measured. "Hii, dear Uhmm... You're Ethan's sister, right? I think we met briefly at the wedding?"
Sophie nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, that's me. Sophie."
There was a beat of silence, not awkward, just unspoken. A quiet pause where both women seemed to measure the moment. Not with suspicion, but with curiosity. The natural tension of two strangers who hadn't yet figured out where they stood in each other's world.
"I brought cinnamon rolls," Sophie said, breaking the silence as she lifted a plate from the counter. "Still warm. Want to try one?"
Lena offered a small, polite smile, tilting her head slightly. "They smell amazing."
Sophie stepped closer, holding the plate out with ease. "Here this one's got extra cinnamon. Try it."
Lena blinked, a little surprised by the gesture. "Are you sure?"
"Of course," Sophie said casually, brushing it off like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I'll just grab another for Ethan."
She turned and walked to the fridge, opening it with practiced familiarity. She pulled out a sealed container, peeled the lid back, and placed another roll on a plate this one just as soft, sticky, and perfectly golden as the first.
As she moved toward the hallway, she glanced back over her shoulder. "Ethan and I are in the lounge. You should come join us."
Lena, still mid-chew, hesitated slightly. "Now?"
Sophie nodded, her smile gentle, but persuasive. "Yeah. We're just hanging out. Nothing formal."
Lena studied her for a moment, trying to read the intent behind the invitation. Sophie wasn't trying too hard, but there was something open and sincere about her. She gave a small nod. "Alright. Why not."
Sophie turned, holding Ethan's plate, and led the way with an easy stride. Lena followed a step behind.