Chapter Twenty-Four Sophie
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sophie
"So, what's going on here?"
Tonya asks, placing an unlit cigarette between her lips.
She'd never light it inside the store, but it's a comfort thing for her.
Thankfully, she's down to half a pack a day.
Back during her heavy grieving months, she was burning through packs a day like it would cut her lifespan in half and get her back to Roxy sooner.
Grief is brutal, but losing a partner takes it to another level.
I witnessed it firsthand with my mom and Tonya—the ways they coped when the pain was at its most intense, and then the ways they kept their love alive through routines and rituals shared with their partners.
Mom and her meditation, the sunsets, the way she still speaks to my dad as if he's right next to her.
Tonya and her sunrise joyrides on her bike —just like the ones she used to take, tearing down the backroads with her wife clinging to her happily.
That's important—finding healthy ways to feel closer to them and to keep going. Not moving on—you'll never really move on—but you do have to keep moving forward.
Her blunt question freezes me because I know Tonya and I understand what she's really asking. I clear my throat and finish tucking the last chair under the table. This book club meeting had been particularly exciting, with some life-changing news and joyful updates from the group.
Ever After Always has never been just about the books. It's also about the people, where we could discuss life, celebrate our wins, and carry each other through our losses.
And today? Today, we celebrated some big wins—
Bailey is finally engaged and is bouncing off the walls to plan her dream wedding extravaganza—pink everything, of course.
Atticus and Jane, if the hand-holding today is any indicator, seem to be steadily moving toward something.
Parker got promoted to Store Manager at Guitar City, long overdue.
April sold a custom blanket online for a couple of hundred bucks, a big contribution to her culinary school dreams.
Tonya's latest client was featured on Ink Society's social media page, and now she's got more bookings than she knows what to do with.
And Sophie and I...
My eyes can't help but find her—my sweet girl.
My heart races every time I remind myself that she's mine. She’s crouched by the Romance section, giggling softly and playing with Plot.
The gray beast is swatting at the feather toy in her hand, eyes focused and ears twitching.
The sound of her laugh is like the gentle sound of rain on a quiet afternoon, so peaceful and soothing.
She's got the blue hat on today, the one with the daisy stitched on it by April, and she looks adorable and cozy in her matching blue college sweatshirt, a pair of black leggings, and those boots.
To me, it looks like she's home.
Does she feel it, too? I hope to God she does.
"Yeah, that's what I mean," Tonya smirks, her tone knowing, watching me with narrowed eyes. "Look at that head-over-ass-in-love look on your face."
"I'm no—"
"Yeah, you are. So, shut up."
Yeah, I am. So, I do.
I'm steadily falling in love with Sophie.
I’m falling for Sophie—fast. Or maybe it’s sneaking up on me, like autumn—barely noticed until suddenly, everything’s on fire with color.
You wish you could pause time to take it all in—to memorize, to feel—and if you're lucky enough to recognize that kind of beauty when it's in front of you, you do.
So, I do.
I take a long look at the woman who has caught my heart, who is holding it and hasn't let go.
I'm falling, and that does scare me a little. Not away from her—God, no, you couldn't drag me away from Sophie if you had an army. I've just never experienced any of this before, and that's terrifying to me.
I've never felt this absolute clarity that yes, this is what it's supposed to feel like.
I want to do whatever it takes to keep that smile on her face—to keep her happy and healthy. And the wildest part is, I've realized that all I have to do to keep her happy is show up.
That's the bare minimum to me, and Sophie doesn't deserve the bare minimum.
Sophie deserves the best, she deserves the world.
And, I will do my damnedest to give it to her.
"So are you guys together?" Tonya asks, eyeing me, rolling the unlit cigarette between her thumb and forefinger.
My smile turns stupid, ridiculous, and no doubt goofy when I think back to the carnival, our date, and kissing her.
The night had been perfect from start to finish. I had been nervous, stupidly worrying that Sophie was used to better dates and fancier restaurants, so she might be underwhelmed with my choice of carnival date. I should have known better, because Sophie loved it.
It seemed like she could just forget that she had cancer, that she was sick, and the betrayal she had suffered through. And I was so damn happy that I could give that to her.
I've been happy in my life, I've been joyful, and I've felt true satisfaction. But there’s nothing on earth that could ever compare to holding the hand of my girl, seeing the radiant smile light up her face because of something I had done, and kissing those soft lips because she wanted me to.
She was glowing. I wanted to give her that happiness over and over again, and those little otters were just a way to do that.
"Westley and Buttercup," she told me in the truck, blush coloring her cheeks as she held them to her chest. For a moment, the emotions bubbling inside of me wouldn't let me speak.
She named them after my favorite movie, the one I obsessively watched until the tape broke. Of course, she would remember that.
The memory of the ride home from our date last week makes me smile. Sophie kept one hand on the otters, the other firmly clasped in mine, and I kept stealing kisses from her at every stoplight like two teenagers.
When we got to her apartment, we lingered inside for a bit, talking about anything and nothing to stretch the time, saying goodnight with slow kisses until she realized how late it was.
In her worry, she ordered me to text her when I got home safely.
The concern she shows always makes me feel good, and true to her word, she stayed awake until she received my text.
"Yeah, we are," I tell Tonya, who looks very pleased at my answer. "We haven't really labeled it yet, but..."
"You're together, you're together,” Tonya interrupts, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "That's that."
Tonya's words do ring true to me, but still, I don't want there to be any question of my feelings toward her. I'm serious about Sophie. I want to discuss boundaries—both mine and hers. I want to talk about what we are, what we're building, and where we're going.
I know it might be too soon to have the future talk, but Sophie never backs down whenever I talk about the future. She didn't even blink when I promised that I would top her birthday next year—in fact, she looked downright happy about it.
And I want all of it. All of her birthdays, all the holidays, and all the days ending in Y.
Mom always said to be patient, that love would find me, and that I couldn't chase it down.
You should never doubt Maeve Rhodes.
Tonya clears her throat, her voice dropping. "I ran into a little rat the night of her birthday."
My head swivels toward Tonya, her expression downright smug. I frown in confusion until she gives me a significant look, and it clicks.
"Paul?" I ask, keeping my voice low, and casting a glance at Sophie, who's still distracted by Plot.
"Mhm," Tonya hums with a nod. "Was out for a smoke when I caught him peeking in on the birthday celebration. He puked when he saw her... and you. Serves the little shit right."
I'd be lying if I said that it didn't feel satisfying knowing he saw Sophie—glowing, loved, and thriving without him, with me. But I would never use Sophie as a weapon for petty revenge against Paul. Not for anything.
For one, I don't believe in taking revenge against someone who wronged you. No, I believe in karma. There is some heavy karmic retribution owed to him, and I think seeing that the woman whose heart he stomped on is doing just fine without him is a start.
Secondly, I've heard that the best revenge is a life well lived. I've been doing just that—I'm healthy, my mom is healthy and happy, the bookstore is successful and brings joy to my community, I have my amazing friends who feel like family, and now I have my dream girl—Sophie.
So, taking revenge seems unnecessary to me. I believe that what goes around comes around, and Sophie is the best of us and deserves the best to come back around to her.
"You didn't... kill him, right?" I ask, only half joking. Tonya's line of work has her connected to just about everyone in this town. She's like one of those movie mob bosses—if you need something done, she knows someone. "He's still among the living?"
"Moi?" Tonya bats her lashes like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth and scoffs. "Callum, I'll have you know I'm as gentle as an angel."
"You're as gentle as a loaded shotgun," I reply flatly, and she beams at that like it's a compliment. Well, to Tonya, it is. "Please tell me we don't have to smuggle you out of the country because you committed murder."
"Alright, I thought about it," she shrugs with a smirk. "But orange isn't my color, so I let him live. But I did have a little fun before."
"Fun?" I arch a brow, arms crossing over my chest, intrigued and a little alarmed.
Tonya flashes a shark grin, all teeth. "That little shit was hiding out at my friend Rhea's apartment with his bitchtress."
I blink. "How in the world did you find that out?"
"One of my clients. Do you remember a guy named Dylan Walker? Would have been from your time in school?"