Chapter 31 The News About Sophie

Chapter 31 The News About Sophie

Emma immediately stood up, her face lighting up with a flawless smile as she breezed over to take the bags from Samuel's hands. "Samuel, you're here! Come sit down. I made your favorite—sweet and sour ribs."

She set the bags on the kitchen counter, then added in a half-joking tone, "Mireille's been our star lately—who knows, maybe soon there'll be a little baby in our circle."

Samuel froze for a beat, his gaze shifting to Mireille. Her face had darkened noticeably. Then he caught Emma's smile—too bright, too probing—and the intention behind her words clicked into place. He'd always been straightforward, never one for games or prying into friends' private lives.

"You've got it wrong." Samuel's brow furrowed, the correction tumbling out before he could think. "It's not Mireille. It's Sophie."

The moment the words left his mouth, the air in the room turned to ice.

"Samuel!" Mireille shot to her feet, fury and panic flashing across her face as she glared at him.

Samuel's stomach dropped. He realized instantly what he'd done.

This was Sophie's most private, most sensitive secret. How could he have blurted it out in front of Emma, of all people?

He scratched the back of his head, scrambling to backtrack. "I mean—Sophie's stomach hasn't been great lately. We need to look out for her. Yeah. That's what I meant."

The excuse was paper-thin, and everyone knew it.

But no one was paying attention to his fumbling anymore.

Emma stood frozen in place, the color draining from her face like water down a sink.

Sophie… pregnant?

The words detonated in her mind like a bomb.

Her legs nearly gave out. She dug her nails into her palms, using the pain to anchor herself, to keep her expression from cracking.

Whose child?

A name surfaced immediately, tightening around her chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe.

Sebastian.

Sophie was carrying Sebastian's child.

What was she planning to do with it? Use the baby to secure her place in the Carter family? Marry in as the mother of his heir? Then where did that leave her? All her patience, all her carefully laid plans—was it all going to be destroyed by one unexpected pregnancy?

Fear and jealousy coiled around her heart like poison ivy, choking the air from her lungs.

Samuel saw her pale face and assumed she was shocked on Sophie's behalf. His guard dropped slightly.

He sighed, his tone heavy. "But you know how stubborn Sophie is. She said she's raising the kid herself. It's got nothing to do with the father. She's not even planning to tell him."

The words hit Emma like a lifeline thrown to a drowning woman.

Her head snapped up, disbelief flickering across her face as she stared at Samuel, searching for any sign he was lying.

Seeing her doubt, Samuel added, "She doesn't want the baby to be a burden. Doesn't want to use it to bargain for anything. So keep this to yourself—don't bring it up in front of her."

Relief crashed over Emma like a tidal wave, washing away every ounce of fear and panic.

She almost laughed out loud.

Sophie was such an idiot. She was holding a golden ticket to change her entire life, and she was choosing to be a secret single mother instead? It was so absurd it was almost funny.

Contempt and pity twisted together in her chest.

She was safe. A woman too scared to speak up, planning to raise a child in silence—she posed no threat at all.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Mireille glanced at the two frozen figures and went to answer it.

"Sophie, you're here."

Sophie stepped inside wearing a loose cotton dress, her face still pale but her energy seemingly intact.

She'd barely kicked off her shoes when a figure lunged at her with excessive enthusiasm.

"Sophie!" Emma grabbed her hand with enough force to make Sophie wince. Her face was a picture of concern, eyes glistening as if tears were imminent. "You're finally here! I've been so worried about you. Let me look at you—you've lost so much weight. Why do you look so terrible?"

She looked Sophie up and down, her exaggerated warmth making Sophie's skin crawl.

This wasn't the proud, sensitive Emma she remembered. This was someone else entirely.

The sudden affection felt fake, suffocating. The fragile hope Sophie had been nursing flickered out like a flame snuffed out.

Sophie pulled her hand back smoothly, the overeager contact feeling like a trap closing around her.

She forced a polite, distant smile. "Sorry to worry you."

Samuel and Mireille exchanged a glance, both seeing the same awkwardness and unease reflected back.

This dinner, meant to be a gathering of friends, had been tainted from the start.

The food was served quickly—four dishes and a soup, all flavors Sophie used to love.

Emma hovered attentively, piling food onto Sophie's plate, her voice oozing sweetness.

"Sophie, try this. I made it especially for you. The most important thing right now is taking care of yourself. You need to eat more, build up your strength."

The moment the words left her mouth, Samuel and Mireille's faces changed.

Sophie's chopsticks froze mid-air. She slowly lifted her gaze, her calm eyes landing on Emma's face, which was wearing a mask of feigned concern.

She knows.

Samuel, who couldn't keep a secret to save his life, had let it slip.

"Emma, you know, don't you?" Sophie set down her chopsticks, her voice quiet but edged with frost.

Emma stiffened under her gaze, then her eyes welled up, her expression shifting to one of pained helplessness. "Sophie, I didn't mean to find out. It was just… an accident earlier. Don't blame Samuel. I'm just so worried about you. How could you… make such a foolish decision?"

She reached out, covering Sophie's hand with her own, her tone heavy with false sorrow. "Sophie, listen to me. We're best friends. I can't just stand by and watch you throw your life away. Do you have any idea how hard it is for a woman to raise a child alone? Unmarried, pregnant—your career, your future, everything will be destroyed by this baby."

Every word was a poisoned needle, wrapped in the guise of concern, aimed precisely at a single mother's most vulnerable spots.

"A child born without a father—people will talk. How is he supposed to face the world? Sophie, you can't be this selfish!" Emma's voice rose, as if she were the one who'd thought everything through, the one looking out for her friend. "The pregnancy's still early. You can go to the hospital and end it. Treat it like a bad dream. It's not too late."

"Enough!" Mireille slammed her hand on the table, her voice sharp with fury as she glared at Emma. "Emma, do you even hear yourself? That's Sophie's child. A life. Not some disposable thing you can just throw away!"