Sophia couldn't help but glance over at Capone, her suspicion rising. The way he was so meticulous in placing the strawberries, crafting a perfect heart shape at the center of the cake—there was no way someone who had struggled so much with the frosting earlier could do this so effortlessly. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he simply flashed her a smug grin in return, clearly proud of his work.
"You're trying to make me think you can't do it," Sophia muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.
Capone leaned in slightly, his voice low and playful. "I really couldn't at first, but for you, I'll do anything. Even fake incompetence."
She shot him a look, but despite her frustration, her lips quirked into a smile. The way he was standing so close, the warmth of his presence, it made her feel strangely calm. She didn't realize how much she had missed him, his teasing, his touch, and the quiet moments they shared together. Even though the situation was frustrating at times, there was something comforting about their closeness.
After a moment of silence, Capone spoke again, his tone softer this time. "You know, no matter what happens, this cake—everything here—means a lot to me. It's more than just a birthday celebration."
Sophia looked up at him, meeting his gaze. For a second, she could see the sincerity in his eyes. It wasn't just about the cake or the birthday, it was about them, about their shared experiences and the life they were building together. She didn't answer right away, instead choosing to focus on the last few touches of the cake, adding one final strawberry to the center.
Capone stepped back, admiring the cake. "It's perfect. You always make everything better."
Sophia bit her lip, trying to hold back the emotions that were threatening to surface. With a quiet sigh, she handed him the finished cake, her hand brushing against his as she did so. "Happy birthday, Capone."
He looked at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thank you, Sophia. This... this is the best birthday gift I could ask for."
The two of them stood there, silently sharing the moment, the cake between them a symbol of their complicated, yet undeniable bond. Despite the ups and downs, it was these small, quiet gestures that spoke volumes.
Sophia's heart raced as Capone pulled her closer, his lips against hers with a tenderness that sent a shiver down her spine. She wanted to push him away, to maintain some sense of distance between them, but her body seemed to betray her, reacting to his touch in a way that both frustrated and thrilled her.
The feeling of his hands around her, the warmth of his embrace—it was intoxicating, yet she couldn't ignore the emotional turmoil swirling within her. The kiss deepened, and for a moment, she allowed herself to sink into it, her hands resting on his chest as if she were grounding herself in the moment. But it didn't last long. She pulled back slightly, her breath shallow, eyes avoiding his.
"Capone," she whispered, her voice betraying the conflict inside her. "We can't just—"
He didn't let her finish, his thumb gently brushing her cheek as he searched her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry. I just..." He sighed, his own frustration evident. "I've missed you, Sophia. I've missed us."
Sophia's heart softened despite herself, but the lingering doubts in her mind kept her from fully giving in. "You say that," she murmured, "but there's so much we haven't talked about. So much that's left unsaid."
Capone didn't speak at first, just held her there in the silence, his hands on her waist as if he never wanted to let go. After a long pause, he finally said, his voice low, "I know. I don't want to rush anything, Sophia. I just... I don't want to waste any more time."
She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the weight of his words. The warmth of his touch, the way he held her, it all felt so familiar and comforting, but the past still loomed large in her mind.
When she opened her eyes again, she found Capone watching her, his gaze intense and full of something she couldn't quite place. "Let's take it slow," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the rapid beat of her heart. "But we'll talk. We'll fix everything."
Capone's lips curled into a soft smile, the tension between them easing just slightly. "I'll wait as long as it takes," he whispered, kissing her forehead gently. "I'll wait for you."
And for the first time in what felt like a long while, Sophia allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could make it through the storm together.
Sophia remained still in Capone's embrace, her lips tingling from the intensity of the kiss. Despite the interruption, her heart was racing, and the emotional weight of the moment seemed to settle over her like a heavy fog. Capone's apology, quiet and raw, hung in the air between them. She could feel the sincerity in his voice, but that didn't make the years of hurt and confusion vanish in an instant.
Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. She wanted to say something, anything, to reassure him, but the words felt stuck in her throat. How could she forgive him when the past still loomed so large, so unresolved? Yet at the same time, she couldn't deny that she felt something for him still—a part of her always would.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, almost hesitant. "Capone," she began, lifting her hand to gently touch his cheek, "I can't promise you that it will be easy. But I can try. We can try."
Capone pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers with a mix of hope and fear. "I don't expect it to be easy," he said, his voice steadying. "I just need you to know that I'll spend every day making it up to you. I'll show you that I'm worth it. That we're worth it."
Sophia met his gaze, her heart still heavy but a small flicker of warmth growing within her. "We'll see," she murmured. "But for now, let's just... take it one step at a time."
Before either of them could say more, the sound of muffled laughter from the other room broke the moment. Candy and Karl had somehow managed to retreat, leaving Terry in the awkward position of still being partially caught in the door.
Sophia couldn't help but laugh quietly, the tension in the room easing as she realized how much more she wanted to heal—not just with Capone, but with herself. She took a deep breath, turning back to him with a soft smile. "Next time, a little less drama," she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Capone chuckled, the sound rich and relieved. "I'll do my best," he replied, but his eyes held a quiet promise that spoke louder than words.
And in that moment, despite all the uncertainties still hanging between them, Sophia knew one thing for sure: they weren't giving up on each other just yet.
Sophia sat quietly, wrapped in Capone's arms, feeling the warmth and comfort that only he could provide. Her thoughts were a whirlwind, pulling her in every direction. Her heart still carried the weight of the past—the good, the bad, and the hurt. Every time she thought about how much he'd hurt her, the slap, the betrayal, it felt like a fresh wound. Yet, there was no denying the deep connection between them, the moments of tenderness that made her feel both safe and conflicted.
She could feel the subtle changes in her life—the absence of nightmares, the peace that had begun to settle around her, thanks to him. His interactions with their baby filled her with a unique sense of calm, like a warm embrace. It reminded her of the feeling she had when she was younger, held in her mother's arms, or the early moments when Capone held her so close, both of them sharing that comforting sense of security. But now, there was a slight difference, something new and delicate about the way the baby seemed to connect with them both.
In her dreams, she could almost hear the baby's voice, soft and innocent, calling her "mama," asking, "When will mama forgive daddy?" It was a simple question, yet one that carried so much weight. And in that moment, Sophia asked herself the same thing—could she forgive him? Should she?
But every time she tried to answer, the words wouldn't come. She still felt the painful emptiness in her throat, a reminder of everything that had happened, and the struggle to heal. Yet despite everything, she knew one thing—there was a chance. A chance to rebuild, to try again. Maybe not all at once, but one step at a time.
Capone knew better than to push her. He understood that earning her forgiveness wasn't something that could be rushed. It would take time, patience, and effort. But he was willing to wait, to prove to her that he was committed to making things right.
As the night settled in, the house was filled with the hum of activity. Diana and Lucy had spent the entire day preparing a large feast. The dining room was set, the table laden with dishes, each more delicious than the last. The aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the air, filling the space with warmth and anticipation.
Capone glanced at Sophia, his hand still resting gently on her waist, silently asking if she was ready. There was a certain heaviness in the air, but also a quiet hope. He had a feeling that tonight might mark a turning point. Not a sudden resolution, but the beginning of something new—something they could build together.