Chapter 4 4

Sophia left the gallery feeling as though her chest were full of broken glass. Ethan's words replayed in her mind, layering over her own growing doubts about her marriage. The crisp fall air did little to calm her as the city buzzed around her, a stark contrast to the stillness within her.

Elliot. Ethan. Lies. Secrets.

She clutched her coat tighter around her, unsure whether it was the chill or the weight of her discovery that made her shiver.

When she arrived back at the penthouse, the space felt colder than usual. It was empty, of course-Elliot had sent a terse message earlier about being in meetings late into the night. She used to find solace in the solitude of the luxurious apartment, but tonight, it felt suffocating.

Rolling into the study, she hesitated at the desk where she'd found the file. The drawer was still slightly ajar, and her fingers itched to pull it open again, to pore over its contents for answers she hadn't yet pieced together. But no-she needed clarity, not more questions.

Instead, she moved to the bar, poured herself a glass of wine, and retreated to the large window overlooking the city. The lights blinked in the darkness, a million lives moving forward, unaware of the turmoil raging inside her.

She barely registered the sound of the elevator until Elliot's voice broke the quiet.

"You're still up."

She turned to find him standing in the doorway, his tie loosened and his expression unreadable.

"Couldn't sleep," she said, her tone flat.

Elliot stepped inside, his sharp eyes scanning her. He seemed to sense the tension immediately, his brows furrowing. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated, clutching the stem of her wineglass tightly. "You tell me, Elliot. What's wrong?"

He stiffened, his hands sliding into his pockets. "I don't have time for games tonight, Sophia. Just say what you mean."

"Fine." She placed her glass down on the table, wheeling closer to him. "I went to see Ethan."

The words hit him like a blow. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened. "You had no right-"

"No right?" she interrupted, her voice rising. "You've built this entire marriage on half-truths and secrets, Elliot. Don't you dare tell me I don't have the right to seek answers."

His nostrils flared, but he didn't speak.

Sophia pressed on, her voice trembling with frustration and hurt. "I know about the NDA. I know you paid him to leave. I know you loved him."

Elliot's face was a mask, but she could see the crack in his armor, the slight shift in his expression that betrayed him.

"Is that why you married me?" she demanded. "Because I was safe? Because I couldn't challenge you the way he did?"

"That's not fair," Elliot said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Fair?" She laughed bitterly. "What part of this marriage has been fair to me, Elliot? You control everything-what I wear, where I go, who I speak to-and I've let you, because I thought there was something worth saving between us. But now I'm not so sure."

His eyes blazed, and for a moment, she thought he might shout. But instead, he crossed the room in two long strides, leaning down so their faces were inches apart.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice icy.

"Then tell me!" she shot back, refusing to be intimidated. "Tell me the truth, Elliot, or I swear I'm done."

The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Finally, he straightened, running a hand through his hair.

"You want the truth?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine. I loved Ethan. I loved him in a way I've never loved anyone else, and it terrified me. He made me question everything-my plans, my ambitions, my future. And I hated him for it as much as I hated myself."

Sophia's heart twisted, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. "So you paid him to leave."

"Yes." He exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the confession. "I paid him to leave because I couldn't handle what he made me feel. Because I thought if I could just remove him from my life, I could be the man I was supposed to be."

She studied him, her voice softening. "And did it work?"

His laugh was hollow. "What do you think?"

Sophia's chest ached with a mix of anger and sorrow. "You can't keep running from your emotions, Elliot. You can't keep pushing people away because you're afraid."

"And you can't fix me, Sophia," he said, his voice raw. "I'm not some broken thing you can put back together."

She swallowed hard, her throat tight. "I'm not trying to fix you. I just want to understand. I want to know if there's anything real between us, or if I'm just another part of your carefully controlled life."

He didn't answer, and the silence felt like a blade twisting in her chest.

Finally, she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't do this anymore, Elliot. Not like this."

She turned and wheeled away, leaving him standing alone in the study.

Sophia didn't sleep that night. She lay awake, staring at the ceiling as her mind raced. She thought about Ethan's words, about Elliot's confession, and about her own role in this mess. She had married him knowing he was guarded, knowing he wasn't the type to love easily. But she hadn't realized just how deeply his walls were built-or how much it would cost her to try to break through them.

The next morning, she made a decision. She needed space, a chance to clear her head and figure out what she wanted.

When Elliot came into the kitchen, his expression weary but guarded, she didn't give him a chance to speak.

"I'm leaving," she said, her voice steady.

His eyes widened, and for the first time, she saw real panic flicker across his face. "What do you mean, leaving?"

"I need time," she said. "Time to think. Time to decide if this marriage is worth fighting for."

"You can't just walk away," he said, his voice sharp.

"I'm not walking away," she said firmly. "I'm giving us both a chance to figure out what we want. Because right now, I don't think either of us knows."

Elliot stared at her, his jaw tight, but he didn't argue.

"When?" he asked finally, his voice strained.

"Today."

The word hung in the air between them, heavy with finality.

As she packed her things, Sophia felt a strange mix of fear and relief. She didn't know what the future held, but for the first time in months, she felt like she was taking control of her own life.

When she wheeled out of the penthouse, Elliot was waiting by the door. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

"Goodbye, Elliot," she said softly, her voice trembling.

And then she was gone.