Sophie's P.O.V.
The ride home felt like an eternity. Every inch of the road seemed to stretch on, mocking me with the distance between myself and the mess I had just walked away from. I stared out of the car window, my heart aching with each passing streetlight, as if they were silently counting the minutes since I last saw Ethan.
I couldn't believe it. Ethan was engaged.
The words echoed in my head, as though they belonged to someone else. Someone who wasn't me. Someone who had no connection to him. Yet here I was, unable to ignore the brutal truth.
I didn't want to go to his engagement party. I didn't even want to look at him. But, for some strange, stupid reason, I'd gone. I'd convinced myself I was over him, that I could show up, smile, and act like everything was fine. But the moment I saw him, standing there with Isabella, the perfect match—the business partner—everything I'd carefully built up over the past two months came crashing down.
The facade cracked.
I'd left the party early, unable to stand the sight of him with someone else. Someone who was so perfectly suited for him. She was everything I wasn't. Composed. Elegant. A perfect match, just like everyone had said. And I was nothing more than a broken hearted mess, pretending to be fine when I was far from it.
---
The Emotional Rollercoaster
The tears came the moment I stepped through the door of my apartment. It wasn't the gentle trickle of sadness I was used to, but the desperate flood of grief I hadn't experienced in years. I collapsed onto the couch, my breath coming in jagged sobs as the emotions I'd been suppressing for so long exploded in a chaotic rush.
How could he?
How could he go on with it? How could he be so cold?
Had all our moments meant nothing? Were they just another blip in his life, easily replaced with a perfect woman who wasn't me?
I pulled my knees up to my chest, feeling the weight of loneliness crush me. These past two months had been pure torture. I had convinced myself I could survive without him, but every day had been a fight against the urge to call him, to hear his voice, to feel the warmth of his presence. And now? Now, he was engaged.
It felt like I had been suffocating for weeks, pretending to be strong, pretending I had everything under control. But the truth was, I was dying inside. Ethan wasn't just a man to me. He was my everything. He always had been. And the thought of him with anyone else—especially her—shattered me more than I could bear.
---
Grandma Vivian's Watchful Eyes
Across town, in the comfort of her own home, Grandma Vivian sat in her favorite armchair, watching the events unfold from her window. She had seen it all—Sophie's arrival at the party, Ethan's cold, distant demeanor, and the way Sophie had slipped away, her head hung low.
Vivian knew what was going on, even if Sophie didn't. She'd seen enough heartbreak in her own time to recognize the signs.
She shook her head, thinking about Ethan and the mess he'd gotten himself into. He was a stubborn man, just like his father, and no one had ever been able to tell him what to do. But Vivian knew something Ethan didn't—Sophie wasn't just some passing fancy.
She wasn't a perfect match like Isabella. She wasn't a business partner, a calculated decision. Sophie was real, in a way that neither Ethan nor Isabella could comprehend. And Vivian had a feeling that, no matter how perfect the engagement seemed, Ethan was going to realize that eventually.
The old woman sighed and turned off the light. "Poor child," she muttered, her heart heavy with sympathy for Sophie. She'd been watching them for months now, and she could see the spark between them that no one else seemed to notice. Ethan would come to his senses. He just needed time—and, maybe, a little push.
But for now, it was Sophie who needed the most care.
---
The Silence Between Us
Back in her apartment, Sophie cried until her body was raw, her throat sore from the sobs that wracked her chest. She hadn't cried like this in years, not since the day she left her old life behind. She'd grown so used to holding it all together, to pretending she was fine when she was far from it. But tonight, she couldn't pretend anymore.
And yet, even as the tears fell, a part of her knew something was wrong. Ethan hadn't been himself tonight. He had barely looked at her, and when he had, there was something...off about the way he held himself. He was distant, cold even. Like he had already made up his mind about her—about them—and there was nothing left to say.
The words he'd said to Isabella echoed in her mind, cutting through the fog of grief. He was moving on. He was fine. And Sophie? She was just a ghost in his past, someone who was only significant when it was convenient.
And yet...
What was it that kept pulling me back to him?
Even now, as she sat there in her solitude, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Ethan than he let on. That maybe he wasn't as sure of his decision as he appeared to be. Maybe, just maybe, he was struggling, too.
But for now, Sophie couldn't care about him. She had to stop caring. She had to stop hoping.
---
A Lonely Heart
Hours passed, and the tears eventually subsided, leaving Sophie exhausted and hollow. She crawled into bed, the silence of her apartment only amplifying the ache in her chest. She didn't know what to do anymore. She didn't know how to heal when all she had left was a shattered heart.
But there was one thing Sophie knew for sure—she was done waiting for Ethan. Done hoping he'd come to his senses.
If he wanted to move on, then so be it. She'd learned long ago that sometimes the hardest thing to do was let go. But tonight, Sophie knew it was the only choice left.
And as she drifted into a restless sleep, she whispered a quiet prayer to herself—Please, Lord, give me the strength to move on from him... for good.