The Call Boy I Met in Paris – Episode 34
Justin paused inside the doorway. The new house still smelled of fresh wood and unopened rooms, but Sophie had turned the bare living area into the aftermath of a private celebration. “Whoa,” he said, taking in the bottle and half-filled glasses. “Having a party?”
“Sorry. I was just settling in.” Sophie lifted one shoulder as if the scene required no explanation. “I didn’t know you were coming.” Her smile was bright enough to look deliberate.
Justin set down the bag he carried. He had intended to check whether the house met her expectations and then return to one of his real residences. The loneliness in the room changed his plan before he consciously made it.
“Yeah,” he said, loosening his jacket. “I should probably settle in myself.” The house had supposedly been purchased for him, and they were married, even if the agreement defined that marriage as temporary.
Sophie stared at him over the rim of her glass. “Wait, really?” The surprise sounded too vulnerable to be simple confusion. For all her insistence on independence, she had not wanted to spend the night alone.
“Really.” Justin moved farther into the room and chose a seat beside her rather than across from her. “Unless my landlord has changed her mind.”
She poured him a drink, spilling a little across the table. “I just cut ties with my family,” she announced, then raised her glass. “So, cheers.”
Justin’s teasing disappeared. He had known the meeting would be difficult, but not that her father would force such a choice. “What happened?”
“They wanted me to divorce you and marry Derek.” Sophie swallowed the drink quickly. “Apparently collapsing stock prices can be cured by marrying a cheater. Very advanced business strategy.”
Anger moved through Justin, cold and immediate. He could stabilize Swift Architecture with a signature, yet revealing that power would also reveal the identity he had concealed from her. “And when you refused?”
She looked down into her empty glass. “My father said I wasn’t his daughter anymore.” The joke vanished from her voice, exposing the wound beneath it.
Justin reached for the bottle before she could refill. “Do you want to talk about it?” He kept his tone gentle, offering rather than demanding.
“What’s there to talk about?” Sophie took the bottle back and poured. “He finally said out loud what everyone already knew. Stella, her mother, and Dad are a family. I’m the person who pays for it.”
Justin had seen her fight Derek and Stella without retreating, but the woman beside him looked exhausted rather than defeated. Strength had protected her for so long that she no longer knew how to set it down.
“You don’t have to pretend this is funny,” he said. Sophie responded with another brittle smile, proving his point.
She tried to redirect the conversation toward the house, praising the space and joking about his four fictional roommates. Justin let her speak until the pauses grew longer and the humor failed.
“I suppose you got a good deal,” she said. “A house, a job, and a wife with no family obligations left.” The words were light, but her eyes shone.
Justin moved the bottle out of reach. “I didn’t marry your family.” He held her gaze until she stopped trying to smile. “And I’m not here because of the house.”
The silence between them softened. Sophie’s defenses wavered, leaving her uncertain what to do with kindness that demanded nothing in return.
Justin opened his arms without touching her first. “Sophie,” he said, “you don’t have to smile all the time. I can be a shoulder to cry on, too.”