8. Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Liam
I rake a hand through my hair, then tap my fingers against the armrest, sharp and uneven. My thoughts are a mess. I’m annoyed, sure—but it’s more than that. There’s something simmering just under the surface, something I don’t want to name.
I tell myself it’s just frustration. That I’m irritated by her sudden reappearance, by the way she always knows how to get under my skin. But that excuse crumbles when I remember the guy from earlier.
The one who made her laugh.
I can’t explain why that image bothers me so much—or maybe I can, and I just don’t want to admit it.
Jealousy.
I hate that she’s on a date with another man, and I hate it even more that this man will get to watch her laugh and eat like I used to. He’ll get to see that side of her—the one that’s open, warm, real.
I try to remind myself I have no right to feel this way. But logic doesn’t stand a chance against whatever storm is brewing in my chest.
I glare at my phone. She still hasn’t replied. I fight the urge to message her again, knowing it’ll make it too obvious that I care.
But I do care. Too much.
From the way that guy looked at her, it’s clear he’s had feelings for Sophie for a while. He seems like a nice guy. The kind of guy who’d stick around. The kind of guy she could build a life with.
And I should probably let her. I should step aside and be the mature one here.
But if that’s true—if I really don’t feel that deeply—then why does the thought of her with someone else make it hard to breathe?
It’s more than jealousy. It’s something deeper, sharper. A feeling I thought I’d buried long ago now clawing its way to the surface.
The thought of her with someone else hits harder than I expected.
I hate that it hurts—and that I can’t seem to shut it off.
This doesn’t make much sense to me, like every other thing that’s happened between Sophie and me.
The door clicks open, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn toward the door and instantly relax when Sophie enters.
This relief is short-lived when she storms toward me with anger blazing in her eyes.
Her anger is something to behold, but so is the fact that she’s dressed so differently. She looks gorgeous, as always—but this time, it’s different. She dressed up. For someone else.
That stings more than I expected.
She has always been the type to go for comfort no matter the situation, so she didn’t dress up much when we were dating.
If she put this much effort into that guy, does that mean she never even liked me?
Great. Now I’m choking on emotions too. Perfect.
“What do you need?”
Her impatient tone sends a surge of anger through me. I frown. “Are you that eager to return to your date?”
“Yes.”
She’s not even denying it.
I bite down the curse threatening to spill out of my mouth. The best thing I can do in this situation is to keep my composure.
“I don’t like being interrupted. Tell me what you want so I can get going.”
The cold edge in her voice cuts deeper than I expect, hitting nerves I didn’t even know were exposed. She isn’t raising her voice, and the slight boredom I can hear underneath her tone makes me furious. She definitely doesn’t care what I think or do. She just wants to be done with me and get back to her date.
“Last I checked, you’re my personal assistant, and I can call you whenever I want.”
“We’ve already established that fact. Now tell me what you want me to do.”
My jaw tightens as my gaze glides over her figure. The silk dress she has on does little to hide her curves, and every detail makes it harder to stay focused. So not only am I dealing with my anger, but I’m also fighting hard to keep my desire for her at bay.
I’d have bet a fortune before tonight that she was still a little attracted to me after that kiss we shared, but staring at her now, it’s hard to imagine. I thought I did a perfect job moving on, but it looks like she’s the master at this game.
I rack my brain for a plausible excuse as to why I called her here. It’s almost laughable that I, an actor, am finding it hard to create excuses when I embody a lie every day to make money.
“Uhm…where are the revised scripts the director gave you?”
Well, that excuse holds up. Barely. I forgot to collect those scripts from her, and seeing as I’m a dedicated actor, it’s only natural that I’m looking for the scripts now. This can surely be considered a matter of urgency.
“There.” She points behind me.
I follow the direction of her finger to the pile of scripts on the table.
Brilliant move, Liam.
If only I’d paid enough attention instead of brooding about her date, I’d have noticed the scripts there. Now, I absolutely look foolish.
“Great. You can go now.”
“What!” she snaps, letting go of a fury that almost sends me reeling back in my chair. “Did you call me over because of that?”
I shrug, standing up from the chair. “If you’d just handed them over instead of dropping them off as you please, I wouldn’t have had any need to call you here.”
If I thought she’d been angry before, I was wrong. Her eyes darken as her chest heaves rapidly up and down.
“You’re the most selfish, insufferable, and annoying person I’ve ever met,” she hisses, pointing an accusing finger in my face. “How can you have no regard for other people’s feelings?”
Her anger is one thing, and I could have probably handled that, but what really gets to me is the pure look of hurt in her eyes as she stares at me.
The defeat hidden deep within those hazel eyes causes me a level of pain that’s almost unbearable. The urge to apologize claws at me, foreign and unwelcome. I'm not used to feeling this way—like I might actually deserve the way she looked at me.
“I’m so—”
“I was so foolish and na?ve to believe you were a decent human in the past.” She glares deep into my soul, snatching my words away from me. “At first, I believed you broke up with me because you had to, and I convinced myself you weren’t half as bad as my heartbreak made you seem. But now it’s clear that you just enjoy hurting other people without reason.”
“Sophie—”
“Please, save whatever you have to say until tomorrow. Since I’m too decent a human to go against my contract, I’ll go right back to work tomorrow. But for now, just let me hate you in peace.”
Sophie storms out the door without looking back.
The door slams behind her, and the silence that follows is deafening. I sit there frozen, the last few seconds playing on repeat in my head.
Part of me wants to argue that she overreacted—but the other part, the quieter one, knows better.
I sank low to get her attention. And all I did was prove her right about me.
I sink into the couch, elbows on my knees, dragging both hands through my hair as I try to breathe through the ache in my chest.
I definitely hurt her tonight. And the more I think about it, the more I wonder if this isn’t just about tonight at all. Maybe it’s a pain she’s carried for a while—one I chose not to see. It’s an accumulated pain she’s tried to ignore. How could I have chosen to remain so insensitive to her feelings?
I do believe I made the right choice back then, and I tried to end the relationship as cleanly as I could. However, that doesn’t change the fact that I still ended things without giving Sophie a tangible reason why, which must have made her even more heartbroken.
No. I knew what would happen then, but I thought it was the best way for her to get over me fast.
If that was the case, then I have no right to get jealous over her moving on with another man.
If I really believe that, then I’m exactly what she says I am.
***
I rush out of bed and quickly throw on a robe.
The familiar clattering sounds in the kitchen mean Sophie is here. It’s surprising that she’s showing up, even though she already made it clear she’ll keep working for me.
Sophie has always been a woman of her word.
And it’s about time I make things right by apologizing to her.
Even if it takes a while to earn her forgiveness, I have to try.
I stop in my tracks as I rush into the kitchen. Sophie isn’t here, but Julian is rummaging around, fixing coffee.
Is she quitting after all?
“Why do you look so disappointed to see me?” Julian asks. He squints at me. “Were you expecting someone else?”
He’s grasping at straws to find something out, and I won’t give him that satisfaction.
“Of course. My assistant is usually the one who comes here too early. So pardon my disappointment at seeing my manager instead,” I say, sarcasm dripping from my voice.
Julian rolls his eyes. “She went to set earlier to map out the day’s schedule.”
“Isn’t that something production should take care of? And why are they mapping out a different schedule?”
“Liam, we’re behind on shooting, so the director is trying to salvage what he can by fixing more scenes on your schedule. Are we good now?”
I push back my anger and pick up the coffee cup he just filled. Julian glares at me, but he proceeds to pour another cup for himself.
My mind travels to Sophie again, as well as our argument last night. It would have been so much easier to apologize to her here. I’ll be too busy later, and this will end up dragging out even longer.
“Were you looking forward to seeing her for some other reason?”
I turn my attention to Julian. “What?”
“Perhaps to continue your conversation from last night?”
I gasp.
He knows. How?
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t feign ignorance, Liam. I heard you guys talking last night.”
I frown. “So, you were eavesdropping.”
“Have you forgotten my room is just down the hall?” He scoffs. “I was coming over to steal a brandy from you when I heard the argument.”
I smack my lips shut, unsure how to even begin explaining this to him.
“I knew there was something about Sophie. I just didn’t expect that you two dated. When was that?”
“Seven years ago. I met her when I was a graduate student. She was a freshman.”
Julian’s eyes widen with shock as he drops his coffee on the table. “She’s the one that got away!”
I nod.
I rub the back of my neck, a heavy weight crashing down on my shoulders. “Back then, I just needed a way out. My feelings for her got so deep that it scared me. I knew I couldn’t afford that sort of distraction when I was just starting out.”
“So you broke up with her?”
“Yes.”
“How about now?” Julian asks. I turn a quizzical glare on him. “I mean, how do you feel now? Do you still think she’s nothing more than an unwanted distraction?”
“Yes.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I can’t afford to be entangled in a romantic relationship. So Sophie’s presence in my life right now is dangerous.”
It’s dangerous because I know that all it will take is one moment for me to ignore every principle I’ve worked so hard to build.
I can’t let that happen.
I’m going to keep things platonic between us once I apologize. It’s the only way forward.