Sophia sat at the end of her bed as she stared at a blank canvas balanced against the wall.
Back at bed, she may have spent more than an hour already lost in thought, waiting for herself to paint, but nothing could pull at her heart.
The irony was choking. Here she was an artist by job description and a painter by inner self, but the one thing that brought her comfort most of the time was now so far away.
All her thoughts kept going to the most recent events — the wedding fiasco, accusations of quiet conspiracies and Logan's icy attitude.
The life that she had in hiccup stepped into seemed to be a prison, a beautiful cage because it had turned sadistically easy but full of torturous demands and boundaries she never asked for.
The buzz of her phone cut through the silence on the table beside her causing her to jerk back. She peeked at the name shining on the screen: Anna. Relief flooded her for a moment. If there was anyone who could get her out of the situation, it was Anna.
"Hey," Sophia answered the phone and attempted to add some cheer to her voice.
"Hey, Soph, how are you holding up?" Anna asked. Her voice was gentle, but it contained concern as if she fully understood the current state of Sophia.
Sophia let out a long breath which was more of a way to alleviate the pressure in her chest. " Well not to lie, that is simply impossible. I am still in the process of trying to make sense of this."
"This is insane. I can't believe this is happening to you." Anna shook her head, a look of disbelief covering her face. "An unplanned marriage. Looking at Logan Steele of all people? That is too much of a romantic comedy to be true."
Sophia attempted laughing, but it was too dry, devoid of any humour. "Except that there is no love angle to it. Not that I want one. I feel like an accessory to him unless there is a task to attend to together."
"Well, for one thing, men can be…," I heard Anna say. "And for another, powerful men, those with wealth tend to be the worst. They believe that everything, even their feelings, is within their grip. But I advise you not to be affected by him, Sophia. You are a warrior, and this is simply the ephemeral nature of life. Think about what is within your control."
Sophia returned the smile and has been on Anna's side throughout the trying times. "That is what I am working toward. I have been mulling it over… Perhaps this is the jolt that will finally make me concentrate on doing art once more."
"Sofia!" Anna exclaimed and she was everywhere. "That's the attitude! You are such a talented painter, Sophia; there still hangs in my living room the canvas you painted for me and every time someone visits, they always ask me where I bought it. You can do something big with yourself."
A glimmer of hope rose and settled in the middle of Sophia's chest. Perhaps Anna was correct. Perhaps this was not a disaster in the making. Perhaps it was a pivotal moment. "I appreciate it, Anna. I am glad I was able to hear that."
"Of course, babe. Now, make sure you don't give up, alright? Don't allow Logan or his stupid family to get to you. You can stand on your own two feet and not be bothered."
"I promise," said Sophia; at the same time her voice faltered a little. This she knew wouldn't be easy, but if there was anything that Anna gave her, it was the bravery to attempt.
After chatting for a few minutes more, Sophia hung up the phone and looked at the glass cup that lay on her bedside. Not knowing she was truly that thirsty until that moment, she stood up and went to the kitchen for a refill.
The corridor felt unsettling still as she crept down, the only sound being the quiet cricketing of the refrigerator. After she filled the glass and brought it to her lips, she took a few sips, enjoying how refreshingly the liquid went down her throat.
But just when she was about to turn around to go back to her room, she heard it – a low and muffled voice that could only come from Logan's study. For a moment, she felt her heart stop.
She never thought he would have returned home this early. However, she was unable to control herself and found herself inching forward, all the while trying her best to remain stealthy - Quiet and moving with intent. As she neared the entrance, she understood that he was talking to someone on the phone.
His tone was frosty, cutting. "I don't care what she claims." Logan declared menacingly. "No woman will play me again. Not even that Parker."
Sophia stood still. That Parker girl—she was the one he was referencing.
"I am not going to be just," Logan said, her coldness increasing. "I will not play any game. She is the same as the rest, and I see her too.
Sophia gasped audibly and pressed a hand over her mouth. She was so shocked at Logan's coldness that she had no control over her outburst. She moved even closer and plastered her back against the wall just outside the door of the study. Logan was speaking slowly as if every word stabbed her heart with pain.
"Still, I accepted the marriage against my wish," Logan growled into the phone. "But this is a different scenario, Grandma."
Sophia's gut churned like she was punched.
Her knees buckled beneath her, and the only thing that saved her from landing on the floor was the wall. She had never imagined that Logan could speak on such a level of anger, even in the face of his greatest opponents in business. And how outrageous it was, for he had reserved that for her.
The disappointing part was not only in his verbal abuse but rather, the assurance of it.
Sophia's instinct was to think for a second. To her, such an idea was completely out of the box. She had never, in fact, wanted to be with him – marriage was the last thing she wanted!
One trick went wrong, which then kept on growing bigger and larger as time went by. And yet, here they were, already living in a story that did not belong to her with her being the antagonist.
A keening sound came from her throat, as she felt the emotions rise within. No more could she bear to listen. Ensuring that she wasn't heard, she retreated from the door and dashed back to her room, Logan's voice still reverberating in her mind. She let the door click into place behind her and, propping herself against it, was breathless from trying to steady her quaking hands.
"Get a handle on this," she told herself but there was no need for reassurance as tears had already begun to form.
Her body fell back onto the bed, her mind unable to keep up with the thoughts that swirled inside her. Repeatedly within her mind, she heard Logan saying, 'I shall never allow another woman to control me again'. 'The only reason I tied the knot with her was because I had no option.'
He simply didn't need her., He'd never desired her. She was simply an encumbrance in his eyes, an inconvenience that he had to put up with until the time came for him to rid himself of her.
How could she be so naive? For days, she had tortured herself into thinking she was locked up in a cage when Logan was in the cage all along.
But now she knows. That Parker girl, he thought, was an easy target to blame for all the suffering he had gone through before.
It was time to draw the line.
She would turn her attention to her artwork. She would immerse herself in creating and put her life back in order, with or without Logan Steele.
She rolled out of bed and reached for the sketchpad on her side table, flipping it open immediately, and began to draw quickly, her pencil drawing vigorous and animated lines on the page.
Her consciousness was still in a state of a whirlpool, but she was all too aware that she needed to convert the agony, fury, and treachery into some external, controllable form of activity.
Where had the time gone? Inside the room, it had taken several hours, with the sun disappearing from the view outside the window, but Sophia hardly paid attention. She had been preoccupied with her crafts, drawing the images on the paper in a more precise and pronounced way with the passage of time. Every movement of the pencil was cathartic, like a means through which to get rid of the agony that Logan had carelessly caused her.