Chapter 5 5

Elliot stood at the doorway long after Sophia had left, staring at the empty elevator shaft as if willing it to bring her back. For the first time in years, he felt powerless. The control he'd spent his life building, the fortress he'd constructed to shield himself from vulnerability, had crumbled the moment she wheeled out of the apartment.

It wasn't just her words that haunted him-it was her silence. Sophia had always been fiercely independent, but she'd also fought for their relationship in ways he never had. Now she was gone, and he didn't know if she would come back.

The penthouse felt cavernous without her. Elliot walked aimlessly through the rooms, her absence an oppressive weight. He passed her empty chair in the living room, her favorite blanket still draped over it. In the kitchen, her tea mug sat untouched on the counter. These small, mundane reminders of her presence sliced through him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

For years, Elliot had prided himself on his ability to compartmentalize. He'd buried his feelings for Ethan. He'd thrown himself into his work, building an empire that was the envy of anyone who dared to compare themselves to him. But now, every carefully constructed wall in his mind seemed to be caving in.

Finally, he stopped in his study and stared at the drawer she had opened, the one that held his secrets. His hands shook as he reached for it, pulling out the file she had seen. He flipped through the pages, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and shame.

The contract was there, stark and clinical, spelling out the terms of Ethan's exile from his life. He remembered the day he'd signed it. Ethan had laughed bitterly when Elliot handed him the check, his smile tinged with disbelief and heartbreak.

"Congratulations, Elliot," Ethan had said. "You've just bought yourself a lifetime of regret."

And he had been right.

Elliot slammed the drawer shut and pressed his hands against the desk, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to feel the full weight of what he'd done-to Ethan, to himself, and now to Sophia.

Sophia hadn't planned where she would go when she left. She just needed to leave, to create distance between herself and the man who had simultaneously saved and suffocated her. She found herself at a quiet boutique hotel on the outskirts of the city, the kind of place that promised privacy and discretion.

The room was small but comfortable, with a view of the park below. She sat by the window, staring out at the trees swaying gently in the autumn breeze. For the first time in years, she felt truly alone-not the kind of loneliness that came from being surrounded by people who didn't understand her, but the kind that offered clarity.

Elliot's words replayed in her mind. She had seen a glimpse of the man he used to be, the one who had loved so deeply it had terrified him. But she had also seen the man he had become, the one who pushed people away before they could hurt him.

She thought about Ethan, too, about the pain in his voice when he spoke about Elliot. There was still so much she didn't know, so much Elliot had refused to tell her. But what hurt the most was that he hadn't trusted her enough to let her in.

Two days passed before Elliot finally broke. He had tried to distract himself with work, burying himself in meetings and phone calls. But his focus was shot, and his temper flared at the slightest provocation. Even his assistant, Grace, who had worked for him for years and was used to his moods, had tiptoed around him.

On the third morning, he found himself dialing Sophia's number before he could stop himself. The call went straight to voicemail, her recorded voice cool and distant.

"This is Sophia Thorne. Leave a message, and I'll get back to you."

Elliot hung up without speaking. He tried again an hour later, with the same result. By the time evening rolled around, he was pacing his study like a caged animal, his phone clutched in his hand.

It was Grace who finally snapped him out of it. She appeared in the doorway, her expression carefully neutral.

"You have a visitor," she said.

Elliot frowned. "I'm not in the mood for company."

"I don't think he cares," Grace replied, stepping aside to reveal Ethan.

Elliot froze. Ethan stood in the doorway, dressed casually in a leather jacket and dark jeans, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"Long time no see," Ethan said, his tone deceptively light.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Elliot demanded, his voice sharp.

"Relax," Ethan said, stepping into the room. "I'm not here to cause trouble. Sophia called me."

Elliot's stomach dropped. "What?"

"She wanted to talk about you," Ethan said, his gaze piercing. "I didn't tell her everything, but I told her enough. She deserves to know who she's married to."

Elliot's hands clenched into fists. "You had no right-"

"No," Ethan interrupted, his voice rising. "You had no right, Elliot. You paid me to disappear, to pretend like we never meant anything to each other. And for what? So you could build a life that was nothing but a lie?"

Elliot stared at him, his chest heaving with anger and something dangerously close to guilt. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand," Ethan shot back. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're still that scared little boy who can't handle being vulnerable."

Elliot's jaw tightened, but he couldn't bring himself to respond. The truth was, Ethan was right. He had spent his entire life running-from his feelings, from his past, from the people who had tried to love him.

Ethan took a step closer, his voice softening. "She loves you, Elliot. She's trying to fight for you, but you're making it impossible. If you don't let her in, you're going to lose her. And this time, you won't be able to buy her back."

Elliot swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wanted to argue, to push Ethan away like he always had. But the thought of losing Sophia-of her walking out of his life for good-was more than he could bear.

For the first time in years, Elliot felt something break inside him. And this time, he didn't try to stop it.