"Strawberry Cheesecake," Sophia said, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. Strawberry Cheesecake was the dead giveaway. She could have gotten the movie marathon past Julie, but the ice cream? No. Not a chance with that flavor.
When the door rang earlier, Sophia made it through the messy living room obstacle course in record time, hurdling shoes and empty Chinese cartons and pizza boxes. Blessed be, she could have just hugged the GrubHub delivery guy, who, for the love of God, skipped the greetings and small talk and just gave her the ever-lovin’ ice cream.
She hadn’t seen another human being in days, apart from the army of delivery people from varying fast food restaurants. It was lazy and expensive, but the world was too people-y. Cats, dogs, anything with fur (other than rats) would have been fine, but she didn't have pets, and even they reminded her of Blue, who in turn reminded her of Everett. Just thinking of him reminded her of his thick, hard cock and her thighs clenched at the memory of him filling her so completely.
Wham! Dead-end road.
She simply could not go down that road, or, as a matter of self-preservation, any other roads.
Lord, I miss him.
Some body parts more than others, though. Just because Everett was gone didn't mean she wasn't horny as all get-out. She practically jumped the Amazon delivery guy's bones, and he wasn't even cute. The decision just made sense. It was best if she quarantined herself from anything with a penis, or anything remotely sunny and chipper.
Anything other than ice cream.
"Oh no. It's Strawberry Cheesecake bad? It's barely been a month."
Sophia nodded, feeling the lump—which she'd managed to keep at bay one jump-scare at a time—rising up in her throat again. With the exception of Mom via FaceTime, who insisted on checking on her every hour on the hour, she might as well have been on her own deserted island. Exactly where she wanted to be. Alone.
She'd already told Julie about everything. Everett, the house, Austin, her inevitable move back to Vegas if the hearing went the way she thought it would. Julie understood why this house meant so much to her, to Ainsley.
"Show me," Julie said again with much more urgency this time. "I want to see everything." Sophia fumbled out from under the blanket, pointing the phone toward her wasteland, she added, "Steady."
She suspected Julie's eyes widened with shock, though she was decent enough not to say what she clearly was thinking, based the stark silence. Her voice was level and measured, like she was dealing with a child. "Now pan the room."
The glow of the phone highlighted strewn clothes, piles of shoes scattered where she toed them off, and dirty dishes and cups covering the gaps on the table not filled by the litter of half-eaten fast food trash.
Sophia’s heart dropped.
When she brought the screen back to face her, she saw it in Julie's eyes. "I'm coming up there for the hearing tomorrow."
"No." Sophia's voice cracked. "I need to do this by myself. You shouldn't have to worry about me. You should be doing wedding stuff like revenge seating charts and Blacktalian (black and Italian) music playlists, last-minute emergency cake tastings. Not dealing with my—"
"Your what, your life? Everything else can wait. I'm not getting married tomorrow, Soph. Stop acting like you don't need anyone. Like you have to be so strong. What do you think I'm here for? What we're all here for." Julie dropped her chin and when she lifted it again, her teary eyes met Sophia's.
"You don't have to do this by yourself, you know? You have family, a whole army of us who care about you, so don't do this alone. Let us be there for you this time."
This time. That time. Next time?
The thought of there being another betrayal wrapped a vise grip around what was left of her heart. She wasn't sure she would even make it through this time. Losing Ainsley felt like a wildfire cleared away all signs of life, leaving her barren with nothing but ashen memories.
But then she went somewhere new and did something different. She met Everett, who made things bloom and flower again. He rained down on her roots and gave her the sun. She’d felt so alive and wild and full.
It wasn't like she could forget about her angel baby. This was just so much different. With Everett it was like she was reminded of the possibilities. Of maybe one day making a new life, this time rooted in love.
Losing him after everything she went through...this time Sophia knew she wouldn't recover. There was no coming back from the desolate truth.
Twenty-seven minutes and thirty-four seconds.
It took less than a half hour for the hearing to run its course.
You would think after all the weeks and months of man hours Everett spent on this one house, he would have felt an intense sense of relief to have it done and over with—the word “finally” loose on his tongue.
That maybe he'd feel on-top-of-the-world victorious to have reclaimed his family's property—the only house where it had ever felt like home. And perhaps he should thank Mike for helping him honor the last wishes of his beloved grandmother. Even then it would only be logical to think he'd be happy he got exactly what he asked for.
Of course you'd be wrong.
Even as the judge called for the next case, Everett didn't move. He sat in the hard wooden chair staring at the other end of the table where Sophia sat. She was long gone, her lawyer, Jacob Bornstein, his high school football adversary, in tow. But Everett was still numb, frozen in place.
"Come on, man. Let's go," Mike said. He just finished packing his files away in the weathered leather briefcase Everett gave him two Christmases ago.
Everett looked up at him from his seat as a smug grin twisted the lines of Mike's face into an annoying smirk. A nonverbal I told you so. But what did he tell him, really, that Everett didn't already know? About Austin being an insidious bastard who left nothing but wreckage in his wake? According to Michael Kennedy-at-law, all the Harmans were. Or that Sophia was nothing but a pawn lost in the game?
He knew all of it, and none of it would bring Sophia back.
Almost two weeks had passed since he last saw her, but nothing could have prepared him for the way his heart plummeted into his stomach at the mere sight of her. The throbbing ache intensified everything and paralyzed him all at once. Seeing her again after such a long absence was jarring to his system to say the least, but she didn't look like herself. Her eyes were empty. She was still beautiful, but so serious, dressed in a navy skirt suit with her hair slicked back into a severe bun. It killed him a little on the inside to think he had any part in dimming her light, in helping her rebuild the walls around her heart, but stronger this time.
Mike's hand on his shoulder startled him back to the present and Everett stood abruptly. "I have to get out of here." He shook away the memory of Sophia's red-rimmed eyes. She didn't look at him once, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. "I'll catch up to you later. I'm not going back to the office today."
But as he turned away, Mike lurched forward and grabbed him by the arm. "Really, dude? You're going to go sulk somewhere?" His tone was sarcastic and cynical, like he meant to lighten the mood, but Everett couldn't downshift so fast.
In fact, with the move alone, Everett went from zero to sixty in no time flat. Tension curled into his fingers and his shoulders arched slightly back. His jaw squared under the clenching of his teeth. By the way Mike slowly retracted his hand, Everett suspected the acidic anger bubbling from his throat had made its way to his face.
He cut his eyes to the spot on his arm where his friend tightened his grip, then met Mike's eyes. "Don't ever grab me again."
This time, as Everett turned to walk away, Mike didn't stop him.
Everett wasn't sure where he was headed. He only knew he needed to be outdoors. The oak and marble walls seemed to be closing in on him, tighter and tighter, until he urgently needed to just breathe.
As he stumbled out on the sidewalk, a gust of August wind buffeted him, frantic and restless, sending chills down his spine. He was used to the air, full and damp with the promise of rain. Leaves rustled, noisy, clattering in fumbling swarms along the busy, tree-lined street. His senses had been numb, but suddenly he found himself taking note of every sound and scent and image. It was like a painting clashing with too much color. He wanted the noise and the movement to stop—if only for a moment—to give him time to think.
He ran his fingers through his hair and rested them behind his head, stretching. Right now he could go anywhere he wanted, but there was only one place he wanted to be. It just so happened it was also one of the only two places he couldn't go.
Getting out his cell, he found Sophia's name in his favorites. Everett knew she wouldn't talk to him, but it was dire—vital—for him to try. It rang one time before going to voicemail. As he expected, she ignored him, and the ache in his chest tightened.
Listen Sophia, I know you don't want to talk to me, and I don't blame you. But please give me a chance to explain. Please. I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you so much.
When he disconnected the call, he wasn't surprised to find Mike standing beside him. Not looking at him, but staring straight ahead.
"I figured when I didn't hear from you or see you in weeks, maybe you just needed some time," he said.
Everett lifted his chin, on edge as he listened.
"Got me thinking about life and how things work out sometimes. I could tell she loves you."
Everett turned and studied Mike’s expressionless face. The hard lines of his jaw were locked in place.
"I just hope you really give it a chance,” Mike continued. “It's not the same as with your pops. He was a self-serving asshole who didn't give a shit about his wife or his kids. He cared about money and appearances. You’re not him. You wouldn't abandon Sophia. I know you. You wouldn't let your pride stand between you. Long as you and I have been friends, for you to square up on me the way you did back in the courtroom..." Mike shook his head, like he couldn't have imagined the day would ever come. Not when it mattered. "I knew you loved her. Now I know just how much."
Mike’s expression softened as he met Everett's gaze, and for a second they were boys again. Back on the playground, on the football field, at the funerals of Everett's mom and Mike's younger brother, in the club, in the office. They were kids with long, muddied pasts, who knew each other's dirt and loved hard despite them.
Emotion clogged Everett's throat. He shrugged and gave Mike a quick nod, smiling. "You up for a ride?"
He might not be able to be where he wanted to be, but there was still one place he needed to be.