Chapter 34 Sophia
A sterile, antiseptic scent fills my nostrils as soon as I peek into the hospital room where my mother is staying. She looks so peaceful in the white-lit room, with the only sound coming from the machines and her soft snores. After making sure she’s alright, I shut the door softly.
I feel like I can finally breathe again as my shoulders relax. What should have been a two-hour drive here turned into five due to a bad accident. Honestly, if it weren’t for Lorenzo keeping me company, I probably would’ve pulled over at a gas station and had a mental breakdown in a dirty bathroom stall before arriving. I’ve been trying my best to keep these emotions at bay, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on.
“Is she okay?” Lorenzo asks. He hasn’t left my side since we arrived, and I can’t deny it’s been nice. He brings some sort of… peace.
I nod. “She looks good. She’s sleeping.” Glancing over his shoulder, I spot the person I’ve been searching for since I got here and start walking toward her. “What happened?” I ask Bailey, my mom’s nurse, who’s been kind enough to stay until I arrived.
She sighs, fidgeting with her fingers. “I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone, but Amelia has been staying at your mom’s place.”
“What did you just say?” I snap.
“Your mom didn’t want you to know. And honestly, I didn’t see the harm—Amelia has been keeping to herself for the most part.”
“What do you mean?”
“When she showed up with Miles at first, your mom was confused, but Amelia didn’t offer much of an explanation. But then she showed up the following night with a bag of clothes, and your mom let her in. I wasn’t there—it was my day off. I think your sister asked your mom when I wouldn’t be around and took the opportunity.”
“Bailey,” I groan, frustration seeping into my voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Your mom asked me not to,” she replies, her voice small. “But then Miles showed up drunk?—”
I interrupt her. “She doesn’t make the decisions, and you know that. This was extremely irresponsible and reckless. Now look at where we are.” Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk away, needing some much-needed space from everything and everyone.
I search desperately for a corner—anywhere I can finally unleash the tears that have been building up since this morning. Spotting a door marked Employees Only , I try the handle anyway. It opens, and I slip into a small room lined with shelves filled with medical supplies. I close the door behind me and slump against it, sliding down to the floor. The tears spill out uncontrollably, flooding through me in a wave I can’t stop. Sometimes I gaslight myself and say I’m exaggerating. That I’m acting like an overprotective, annoying daughter. Then I remember all I witnessed during my childhood, all she went through that led her to this bad anxiety, the things that trigger her attacks, and I lose my shit all over again. The memories I try to erase with every fake smile are still so fresh in my mind, it’s like living in a constant nightmare.
Amelia is crying, so I wrap my arms around her, placing her head against my chest, trying my best to stifle her cries. He hates it when we cry. The screaming is so loud, I can’t hear my thoughts. Please, God—or whoever is up there—make this end. Let it stop at the yelling. I can’t handle this anymore.
“Amelia,” I whisper. My body is shaking, and I don’t know how to make it stop. “I need you to stop crying. Please,” I beg.
“W-w-hy is h-he y-yelling a-a-t M-mommy?” she asks between sobs.
“I don’t know, sweetie. But we have to be quiet, otherwise, we’ll get in trouble.”
Her whole body stiffens at my words, but at least she stopped sobbing now. I release a small sigh of relief.
We should be safe now.
I hear angry steps growing closer and closer to my room. My heart instantly drops. There’s no way he heard us.
“Ronald, please, leave the girls out of this,” I hear my mom cry out as the door flies open. We don’t keep any locks on any of the rooms anymore. My father took them away when I locked myself in my room once and refused to come out.
“You!” My father seethes, pointing and stalking toward me. He grips my forearm so tightly, and I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste copper. I refuse to cry in front of my father or show any emotion to him for that matter. I have to be strong for Amelia. For Mom. For myself.
“Where was your mother today?” he screams in my face, the stench of alcohol hitting my nostrils, which is no surprise. He gets paid on Fridays and always goes out, disappearing on us to God knows where.
“She was here with us all day,” I reply honestly, trying to control my shaky voice.
He grabs my other forearm now, shaking me. “Bullshit! Stop lying to me.”
“I’m not lying.” My voice is small now, but still controlled.
Mom truly was here with us all day. Amelia has been complaining we haven’t done anything fun this summer, and all we do is stay home. But I heard Mom talking to Nanny over the phone the other day. She was complaining we were so broke, we can’t even afford groceries. That’s why we’ve been cooped up in this forsaken house all summer.
He lifts his hand, ready to slap me, but Mom gets in the way and screams. “Stop! Please, I’m begging you, Ronald. Stop.”
My father’s bloodshot eyes bulge in fury. “You want to defend your whore of a daughter? You’re going to regret that decision, stupid bitch.”
I never understood why he loved calling me horrible names. He claims I look like Mom, and since in his eyes she’s a whore, I guess I’m a whore, too, by extension.
He fists her hair and drags her out of my room to theirs, leaving the door open. Amelia’s sobbing fills the air, not letting me think. I’m too terrified to move, too weak to pull him off her. So I stand there, paralyzed, as I watch him shove her against the wall and hit her over and over again. The sickening sound of bones breaking and blood splattering is all I can hear now.
Blood. There’s so much blood. And I don’t know what to do.
I shut my eyes as hard as I can, forcing myself to push down the horrible memory.
That night, when he finally passed out, I had to convince her to go to the hospital. I had hoped she would tell the truth. Instead, she lied and said she got mugged and refused to press any charges, claiming she couldn’t see who the person was since it was so dark. I resented my mom so much that day, but the older I grew, the more I understood. Abuse was all she knew by then, and like so many victims, she lived in constant fear, convinced there was no way out. It might sound harsh, but I thank my lucky stars every day that my father died. Because if he hadn’t, I know exactly where my mom would’ve ended up—in a body bag. The thought alone threatens to tear me apart.
I press my palm to my mouth, trying to stifle my sobs. I hate this. I hate this crawly feeling. I hate the memories being here brings. Resting my head against the door and looking up, the room’s bright, white lights are blurry as tears still escape me. This is what happens when I bottle everything up and I can’t hide it anymore. I’m so pathetic. I’m supposed to be strong, to be out there and plaster a smile on my face when Mom wakes up. But I need a moment to feel sorry for myself. I need a moment to let the inner Sophia, the broken one, come out and feel for once.
After a few minutes, I finally start to calm down. I pull out my phone to check my reflection on the camera. I look like a mess—puffy eyes, disheveled hair, everything. This isn’t the usual put-together Sophia, and it annoys me. But that doesn’t stop me from drying my tears as I start counting backward, always hoping it will help.
I stand and open the door, completely unprepared as Lorenzo, who had been leaning his weight against it, tumbles to the floor with a loud thud .
“Ouch,” he groans.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He gets up, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been waiting for you to come out. ”
“How long have you been sitting here?” I snap, crossing my arms.
Oh. My. God. Did he hear you losing your shit?
He lifts his hands in surrender. “Not long at all. I just asked if they’ve seen a five-foot midget running around here and someone pointed me to this door,” he jokes, trying to ease the tension that’s flickering between us. But the laugh doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, all I see is pity .
“I’m so tired of that look you’ve had on your face since we got here.”
He rears back in shock. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Pity, Lorenzo,” I reply, resigned. “You’re looking at me like you pity me.”
He eats the distance between us, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “I do not pity you, Blue. You are a strong woman. An amazing daughter, too. The only look you see right now is worry .” He caresses my cheek, and God, I hate how much I love his touch. “I’m allowed to worry about you, because I care, okay? I know it scares you, but you’re going to have to deal with it.”
Tears well in my eyes once more as I sniffle and roll my eyes. “You think you know me so well.”
“I do,” he says, tone serious. “I know you hate it when people care for you. I know you hate to ask for help. You’re the most stubborn and challenging woman I have ever met.” He smiles at me now, all bright and light; it makes me feel lighter, too. “But that’s not going to stop me from being here for you and taking care of you. You forget I enjoy challenges,” he finishes with a joke, barking a soft laugh that bubbles a laugh out of me, too.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks .
More than anything . It’s what I almost say. But I don’t think I’m ready to unpack all of that trauma on him.
I shake my head and whisper, “I would like a hug instead, if that’s okay.” My cheeks heat at my words. This is not me at all. But I’m willing to put my stubbornness aside for one of his warm hugs.
He wraps his arms around me without a word, and I rest my head on his chest, inhaling his strong, masculine scent. The scent I correlate peace with. The scent that brings some sense of normalcy. The scent that has started to smell more often than not like belonging.
We stand there for a few minutes, and before he lets go, he gives me one of his famous forehead kisses I like more than I’d ever care to admit. “I was looking for you to tell you that your mom is awake. I saw a few nurses walk into the room.”
My ears perk up, and I shove him aside, rushing to her room. I open the door and find a nurse taking her vitals as Mom casually talks with her, all laughs and smiles.
“Mom.”
Her blue eyes flick to the door, and she raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Honey, hi.”
I approach her and wrap my arms around her in a warm embrace. “You gave me a big scare there,” I say with the fakest smile I can muster, taking a step back. I’ve gotten good at faking smiles around Mom.
“I’m sorry.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “What are you doing here? How did you get here so fast?”
“A friend.” My voice quivers for a moment. I’m not sure how much information I want to share. “He has a plane and flew me here.”
“Did you say he ?” She wiggles her eyebrows .
“He’s actually here, and has been very helpful,” I answer honestly.
More than helpful, is what I want to say. He’s the anchor I didn’t know I needed. I’m glad he stuck around even when I was being stubborn.
“I want to meet this mysterious man.”
I give her a warning glare. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” I sit on the edge of the bed and interlace my fingers with hers. “How are you feeling?”
There are a million questions I want to ask her, but I hold my tongue, because I don’t want to add to her anxiety. I’ll have to get my information from Bailey, who I’m still extremely unhappy with, but I know I have to give her the chance to explain.
“I’m good, honey.” She wraps her other hand around ours, squeezing them. “Really. You didn’t have to come all the way here. Won’t you get in trouble with your boss?”
Chances are I will. I sent him an email explaining I wouldn’t be in the office for a few days due to a family emergency, and all he asked was if I could work from home in the meantime. Mind you, I’ve never missed work or taken a sick day. But coming from Max, this is not surprising in the least.
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“So, tell me about this friend .” She beams.
Before I can tell her how ridiculous she’s acting, there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I say, standing from the bed.
Lorenzo pops his head in. “Hey. I’m going down to the cafeteria and I wanted to see if you guys needed anything.”
“Oh my God, you didn’t tell me how handsome he was.” Mom pats my shoulder, and a blush creeps up my cheeks.
My mother, ladies and gentlemen—her favorite hobby is, apparently, embarrassing me .
“Come in here, young man.”
I roll my eyes. “Mom, you can’t say things like that in front of him. Seriously. You’ll give him an ego boost, and he doesn’t need it.”
Lorenzo shrugs, flashing a boyish smile that makes my insides melt. “It’s good to know at least one of the Evans girls has good taste.” He takes my mom’s hand and kisses it gently. “Lorenzo Mancini, but you can call me Enzo. It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Evans.”
“Oh, please. Call me Charlotte.” She smiles back. “My daughter tells me you’ve been helping her out.”
“Well, as much as she lets me anyway.” He laughs, dropping her hand and shooting a knowing look my way.
“She can be kind of stubborn, I know.” She sighs.
I scowl at them. “Gang up on me, why don’t you?”
Lorenzo gives me a side hug and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “You’re not as terrifying as you think, even with that scowl on your pretty face.”
I look at him, shocked he would say something like that in front of my mom. He thins his lips and shrugs, not having a care in the world.
“Sophia, why don’t you go with Lorenzo to the cafeteria and get me some gelatin? The red kind. That’s my favorite.”
I hesitate for a moment. I don’t want to leave her alone for several reasons. Mainly because I’m afraid my sister will appear at any moment. Because if there’s one thing I know for certain—she’ll make an appearance at the worst time possible.
“You heard the lady, come on, Blue.” He squeezes my shoulders and drags me out of the room.
“Oh,” Mom gasps, her face beaming. “I love that nickname. It suits her perfectly. ”
“Thanks to that comment, you’re getting a green gelatin now.” I glare at her, shutting the door before she can reply.
As we’re walking to the cafeteria in silence, I stop dead in my tracks and grab him by the arm, stopping him.
He looks at me with a frown. “Everything okay?”
Before I lose my momentum, I wrap my arms around him and embrace him tightly, burying my head in his chest, because apparently one hug wasn’t enough. I don’t think any amount will ever be enough. They make me feel safe, and that’s a feeling I haven’t experienced for a very long time. “Thank you for everything,” I murmur.
Lorenzo’s fingers find my chin, and he lifts my head, forcing me to look at him. His face has some stubble, but it doesn’t make him look any less handsome. If anything, he looks more human. And I like that a little too much.
He presses his lips to my forehead, the soft kiss sending a flutter of butterflies through my stomach. It’s becoming a problem. “Stop thanking me. I’m happy to be here.”
My heart presses tightly against my ribcage at his words. I’m trying to not look for a meaning behind them, to not read too much into it. He’s just being a friend, trying to be helpful. Nothing more.
Why does it feel like more? Why are you hoping for more?
Hoping can only get me so far. It’s not real. I’m not delusional enough to think I’ll be able to open my heart to him. When I’m older and think back to this time of my life, I’ll remember it for what it was—the summer of my life, with the most wonderful man who, in a perfect world, I could have fallen in love with, if destiny were a real thing.
A nurse walks into the room and announces, “Visitor hours will be over in about ten minutes.”
We all nod and mumble our thanks.
“Will you be okay?” I ask my mom with a frown etched on my face.
“Yeah. You heard the doctor earlier, it’s going to be one more night. You kids go home and pick me up tomorrow.”
The doctor came in earlier today and said everything was looking fine and that they wanted to keep her one more night as protocol. Relief took over me when they said that. I want her back home where she can be comfortable and get back to her routine.
“ Yo-hoo ,” a voice I recognize anywhere says, opening the door.
And there she is, in the flesh, my fucking sister.
Lorenzo shoots a look my way, and all I can manage is to thin my lips before I say something in front of Mom I’m going to regret.
Before Amelia can walk into the room, I stalk toward her and stop her. “Hey, little sis,” I manage to say with a light tone I don’t even recognize. “Let’s go outside and talk, yeah?”
She gets out of my grip. “I came here to see Mom.”
“Visitor hours are over, anyway. You can always come back tomorrow.” I grip her arm tightly, my eyes widening as I push her out of the room. “Mom, we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Looking over my shoulder, I see Lorenzo standing, deliberately blocking my mom’s view so she doesn’ t have to see the tension between Amelia and me. When my eyes meet his, silently thanking him, he simply nods in understanding. This man is something else. And damn, my heart is picking up on these small things and making up a mind of its own.
Over my dead body is Amelia going to get anywhere near Mom. Once we walk out of here, we’re going to have some words. Bailey told me everything and why my mom ended in the hospital. Turns out, Miles showed up at our doorstep completely drunk, begging Mom to speak to Amelia. He and Amelia had a screaming match outside. I’m still unsure of all of the details since this is the only thing Bailey was able to get out of Mom. But she witnessed everything, and the fight must have triggered her somehow, and this is why we find ourselves here.
Once we’re completely out of the room and out of earshot, I stop dead in my tracks. “You have some fucking nerve showing your face around here,” I snap.
“Oh, so you’re the only one allowed to see our mother? Just because you take care of her? Get over yourself, Sophia,” Amelia retorts, crossing her arms.
“She’s here because of you,” I say, jabbing a finger in her direction. “Did you think I wasn’t going to find out? What were you thinking, staying at Mom’s? No—worse—what were you thinking bringing Miles around her? Did you even stop to consider that for a second?”
“I didn’t think he was going to show up drunk in the middle of the night!” she exclaims, exasperated.
“That’s the point. You don’t think! God, Amelia. You’re so fucking selfish!” I yell, not giving a fuck that everyone is currently casting glances our way. “You think the world revolves around you. Wake the fuck up and look at where Mom is because of you,” I seethe, widening my arms with a humorless laugh. “You need to leave. ”
She shakes her head. “I just want to apologize.”
“I don’t care—” Before I can continue, I look over her shoulder and see none other than Miles walking our way. “Did you seriously bring Miles here ?”
“We got back together, not that it’s any of your concern. He’s supposed to be waiting for me in the car.”
“Hey, babe ,” Miles says, dropping his arm around Amelia. “Oh, hi Sophia, long time no see.”
I’m going to lose it. I think this is it. I’ve hit my limit. Don’t get me wrong—I’ve been over Miles for a very long time. There was something so cathartic about grabbing all his music equipment and throwing it out the window of his apartment the day I decided to leave work early and drop by and, to my oh-so-fucking-merry-surprise, found these two fucking. The perfect way to get over my trashy boyfriend.
Yeah, that’s right. You heard it here first, folks . Miles is my ex. The guy I spent four years of my life with, all while he was screwing my sister behind my back. As Rachel Green from Friends would say, Isn’t-that-just-kick-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck fantastic?
Yet, you haven’t opened yourself to love ever again. Are you sure you’re over him?
More than sure. I am over him; I just haven’t forgotten about the betrayal. There’s a difference. I don’t open myself to love anymore, because how can someone hurt me if I’m always the first one to leave? It has been the perfect way to protect my heart.
“Both of you need to leave, now,” I say, my voice flat and emotionless. I’m exhausted—tired of them, tired of everything. Can’t a girl get a moment of peace? Jesus Christ .
“Aw, come on,” Miles says, his lips curling into a sly smile as he gives my shoulder a playful tap with his fist. “Isn’t this a nice little reunion? ”
“Do not fucking touch me,” I hiss, recoiling. “And for the last time, leave. I better not see either of you lurking around Mom again.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Amelia snaps.
“She told you guys to leave,” Lorenzo’s voice cuts in, calm but firm. He steps behind me and wraps his arm around my waist, the warmth of his touch grounding me. I glance at my hands, realizing they’re shaking. But the tremor starts to fade under the reassurance of his touch.
“Who the hell are you?” Miles retorts, glaring at Lorenzo.
“None of your concern,” I reply, shooting them both a fierce look. “What’s it going to take for you two to leave?”
“Babe, let’s go,” Miles says, gripping Amelia’s shoulders. “You know how bitchy Sophia gets. We can visit your mom another day.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightens as he strides toward Miles, grabbing the front of his dirty, worn shirt. “Apologize,” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Miles protests, trying to wriggle free from Lorenzo’s grip.
Lorenzo tightens his hold, now gripping the back of Miles’s neck, forcing him to face me. “Apologize for calling her a bitch. Now .”
“Lorenzo, it’s fine—” I start to protest, but his fierce look stops me. I’ve never seen him like this before; he’s usually so laid-back and laughing. But now, anger radiates off him. His jaw is tight, and his eyes are a dangerous, darker shade of brown.
“Apologize,” Lorenzo repeats through gritted teeth.
“I-I’m sorry,” Miles stammers, his voice trembling.
With a sharp shove, Lorenzo sends Miles stumbling back. “Get out of here, both of you. And if I ever see either of you around again,” he adds, his glare boring into Miles as he points at him, “I’ll be breaking your nose.”
“This is not over,” Amelia mumbles, grabbing Miles’s wrist as they leave the hospital.
As soon as they’re out of sight, Lorenzo turns to me, his eyes scanning my face with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Are you okay?” I ask, gently placing my hands on his face and caressing his jawline. “You lost your cool for a minute there.”
He relaxes at my touch, closing his eyes. “No one gets to insult you. Not in front of me.” His voice is firm and full of conviction, making my stomach flutter with a mix of emotions.
It’s safe to say at this point, we’re both playing with dangerous fire. And we’re already too far gone.
God, what mess did you get yourself into, Sophia?
A very big one. One that’s going to obliterate my heart.