17. Sophie
17
SOPHIE
O bviously sensing I need some space, Bram makes himself scarce, going off to shovel the front walk as I curl up against the mountain of pillows on his bed.
Just pulling up Honor’s contact, which is accompanied by a picture of her pretending to lick a crochet penis, is enough to open a pit of anxiety in my stomach.
Only a few hours ago, I was so sure that everything would work out. I didn’t know how, or when, but I knew it would. The moment Bram told me that Leni knew, however, all that confidence was gone, and I still haven’t recovered it.
My vision blurs, and I wipe away my tears impatiently, forcing myself to take several long, steady breaths. In a way, this is good. I can’t chicken out or push Bram away because I’m too afraid to face my best friend. Leni knows, which means it’s only a matter of time before she tells her sister. I have an opportunity to come clean and do the rightish thing, and I owe Honor that much.
Before I can think of another reason to delay the inevitable, I hit call and curl closer to the Bram-scented pillows, my pulse racing.
Honor picks up on the first ring, and there’s something strained about her greeting of, “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” I echo, trying to sound upbeat. “How’s Riley’s family? Are they being nice to you?”
“About that,” she sniffs, “we broke up.”
My heart plummets. “What?” I gasp, horrified. “What happened?”
Honor lets out a hard laugh. “She was cheating on me. Some other girl she was seeing found out about me and sent a bunch of screenshots. It was pretty incriminating stuff. Things have been off for a while now. I probably should have known.”
“I’m sorry,” I choke, barely able to breathe through the weight of guilt currently crushing my ribcage. How am I supposed to tell her now?
“It’s okay. The fact I wasn’t super upset or angry probably means we shouldn’t have been together in the first place.”
For a moment, I allow myself to imagine how I would feel if some random woman sent me evidence that Bram was cheating on me. Devastated would be an understatement. It was hard enough seeing him on a date when nothing had even happened between us, but now? I would probably die. Bitter, betrayed, and alone.
I swallow, staring blankly at the far wall. “Are you at a hotel?” I ask, and despite my best efforts, my voice sounds off.
“Oh. Uh…” She trails off and lets out a strained laugh. “I’m actually with Riley’s dad. Julian. I was trying to get a hotel when all this happened, but everything was booked or closed and he, well, he insisted.”
My eyebrows have probably vanished into my hair with how much they’ve risen up my forehead. Honor Vogel has been my best friend for six years now, and I’ve never heard her sound like this before. “You like him.”
This statement is met by a feeble little laugh. “That obvious, huh?”
“Kind of,” I reply, my pulse fluttering. “What’s he like?”
Honor is silent for a moment, and I can imagine her sitting in a nondescript room across the country, brow furrowed and lips pursed—her thinking face. “He’s not like I expected him to be,” she finally says, quietly. “He’s… well, he’s a really good person. I think he got caught up in making a lot of money, and he did, but now he wants to do something good with it. Like, he wants to give it all away. He’s starting a nonprofit.”
“Wow. Riches to rags, huh?”
“Something like that.” She lets out another laugh, this one tinged with disbelief. “He asked me to run it, Soph. His nonprofit. He wants me to move out here and help him build it from the ground up.” I suck in a sharp breath, and Honor continues in a rush. “I know! I know. I told him I would need to think about it. He’s… persuasive, though.”
Going off my own recent experience with attractive, successful older men, yeah, I bet he is. “How is he persuading you exactly?”
Honor snorts. “Nothing’s happened. Well, almost nothing has happened,” she amends, sounding sheepish. “Don’t judge. I know it’s a horrible idea.”
This is it, the best opening I could ever ask for, and yet, it’s a battle to open my mouth and say the words I know I need to say.
“So, I kind of need to tell you something. And I really, really hope you don’t hate me for it.” My voice cracks, and my tear ducts don’t seem to have received the memo that I’m sick of their shit. I wipe my eyes with the corner of Bram’s T-shirt .
“You’re freaking me out,” Honor replies with a nervous laugh. “Just say it, Sophie.”
Shifting uneasily, I close my eyes, trying to find the speech I had memorized for this. It was a good one, thoughtful and honest, and now, unfortunately, gone. So, because I’m in this way too far and there’s no backing out now, I start talking with absolutely no plan.
“I have feelings for Bram. As in, your dad, in case that wasn’t clear, or, you know, multiple Brams. I swear, I tried to make it go away and ignore it, and it just got worse and worse the longer I worked at E you really need therapy.”
I let out a watery laugh. “I know I do. It’s so expensive, though!”
“Oh my god, you are an engineer, Sophie June Nelson. I know for a fact you can afford to free yourself from the burden of your childhood religious trauma.”
Yeah, she’s probably right. I’ve thought about it in the past, but there was always an excuse not to do it. Mostly, I suspect I’m just a big fat chicken.
“I’ll make it happen,” I promise, meeting Bram’s eyes and offering him a soft, reassuring smile.
Honor sighs. “I should go. My new flight leaves tomorrow morning, assuming this one isn’t canceled too.”
Something tells me she wouldn’t mind so much if it was.
“Okay.” I swallow, still looking at Bram. “Merry Christmas, Honor.”
“Merry Christmas, Soph. Tell my father he needs to buy me something very shiny and expensive to make up for stealing my best friend.”
I giggle. “Will do.”
We hang up, and I let the phone fall to my lap as I offer Bram a hesitant smile. “She says I need to go to therapy, and that you need to buy her something expensive. But…” My bottom lip trembles. “She seems… okay with it? Not okay, exactly, but not pissed? Leni has been on to us for a while.”
It’s a pretty lame attempt at a coverup, and Bram seems to agree because he chuckles, shaking his head as he strolls across the bedroom toward me. “There’s a piece of this you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”
Yup. A significant one that I am never in a million years going to tell him. I’m well aware I got off easy, and Honor could have hated my guts. There’s no way I’m going back on my promise to keep “friend Sophie” and “Dad’s girlfriend Sophie” separate.
“Honor’s best friend tells you to mind your own business.” I scoot over to make room for him. Bram’s long legs stretch out beside mine on the mattress and I turn into his arms immediately, my heart expanding when he kisses my hair.
“You aren’t angry with me?” he asks.
I frown. “About what?”
“Not telling you about Honor and Riley breaking up. It didn’t feel right when she wasn’t aware of our relationship.”
“I understand,” I assure him, and it’s the truth. “That’s the only way we’re going to make this work. Keeping it separate.”
Another kiss, and Bram’s thumb strokes my arm absentmindedly. “You’re right. Just so we’re clear, though—” His free hand nudges my chin up so I’m forced to meet his warm, blazing stare. “This is going to work, Sophie.”
For probably the first time in my entire life, I’m lost for words. This is insane. Even if we’ve had feelings for each other for a while, Bram and I have spent less than two days together.
I’m not scared, though.
In the space of one snowstorm, I’ve become a whole new person. Or, at least, I see myself in a way I couldn’t before. How long have I been carrying around this shame? How long have I seen myself as unworthy of love and friendship?
We don’t speak for a long time, lost in our respective thoughts. Outside the window, the storm’s last few snowflakes are drifting down to join the seamless carpet of white that covers Bram’s backyard. Since it’s a holiday, I doubt the plow will come to clear the drive until tomorrow, but I’m not bothered. They can take their time. I have everything I need, right here.
“What are you thinking about?” murmurs Bram, his voice rumbling through his chest.
My lips curve. “What’s going to happen when they dig us out of here.”
“Hmm.” He pushes his fingers through mine, and I gaze down at his larger, slightly darker-skinned hand, intertwined with my own smaller, softer one. “That’s easy.”
“Oh?”
Bram hums, and I can tell by the way he’s breathing, that the night spent decorating the whole house is catching up with him. “We’re going to be together.”
I laugh quietly, peeking up to confirm his eyes have closed. “You make it seem so simple.”
“Sometimes the simplest solution is the correct one.” He says it in such a bossy, Bram way that I have to grin, reminded of all the meetings I’ve sat through when he tore apart design proposals for being needlessly complicated.
It doesn’t take long before he’s asleep, my cheek still resting on his shoulder and our hands laced together atop his abdomen.
Best. Christmas. Ever.