Chapter 26
Sophia’s P.O.V
I could feel my legs give way beneath me as I collapsed to my knees, the weight of the world suddenly too much to bear. My heart–no, my soul- felt as though it had been ripped open, and I was drowning in the pain. Every breath I took was a struggle. It was as if the air had thickened, pressing in on me from every side, suffocating me.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her. Old Mrs. Jenkins, the maid who had been with us for years, rushed toward me. She had been like a second mother to me, always there, always steady, always kind. Her face, etched with years of hard work, filled with concern as she crouched beside me, her frail hands trembling slightly as she reached out to touch my shoulder.
*Sophia, dear, is everything alright?” she asked softly, her voice warm and filled with motherly worry. But I couldn’t answer her. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her. The words were stuck in my throat, choked by the overwhelming weight of grief that clung to me. I sat there, frozen, feeling as though my body had turned to stone.
“Just… give me a moment…I’m alright…” I finally whispered, though I wasn’t sure if the words even made sense. They felt foreign coming out of my mouth, a lie I was trying to convince myself of.
How could I be alright? I wasn’t sure what “alright” even meant anymore. Every part of me, every fiber of my being, was shattered. I tried to breathe, but it felt as though my chest was caving in on itself. The silence around me only made it worse, amplifying the loud echo of my broken heart.
Mrs. Jenkins didn’t say anything more, but I could feel her gaze lingering on me. I knew she could see it–the cracks in my façade, the way I was crumbling into pieces. But, mercifully, she didn’t push me. Instead, she nodded and stood up, slowly retreating as she said, “I’ll be in the kitchen, just call me if you need anything, dear.”
I didn’t even look up as she walked away, the soft sound of her footsteps fading into the background. I took a deep breath, forcing my hands to move and wipe at my face, though I didn’t know why I bothered–the tears wouldn’t stop. They were unstoppable now, like a dam that had finally cracked under too much pressure.
My phone buzzed on the floor where it had fallen earlier, the sudden sound so sharp in the silence that it made me flinch. I didn’t want to see it…god, I didn’t know what else was left to find. But I had to know…I had to know what else was going on…and why Tristan was at a bar instead of returning home to his family…
With trembling hands, I pulled the phone towards me and glanced at the screen. My eyes scanned the words, but they blurred together for a moment as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. It was all so overwhelming. The message wasn’t anything complicated…it was only a link.
Normally, I would’ve ignored it, but curiosity got the better of me. I clicked it, not really prepared for what would follow.
My screen blinked, and then there it was. An unfamiliar Instagram account popped up: Gabriella’s account. I froze.
My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the screen, trying to convince myself this was some kind of mistake. But deep down, I knew there was no mistaking the profile picture–it was her. Gabriella. My gut churned, and a pit formed in my stomach.
I scrolled, slowly, not wanting to see what I was bound to find. I wasn’t prepared. Nothing could’ve prepared me for what was right in front of my
eyes.
The photo was of Tristan and Gabriella, smiling, holding a cake between them. The number ‘2‘ was lit up on a candle, sitting atop the frosting. A second anniversary cake. I felt my breath catch in my throat. The caption read, “Our 2nd Anniversary“-words that shattered the fragile mask of calm I’d been holding onto for the past few months.
Two years. That was how long they’d been together. Not two month…not since we opened our marriage…but two years…
