Forty-five
FORTY-FIVE
SOPHIE
T he camera blinds me with its relentless flashing lights. We've been at it for what feels like hours. We’ve done all the typical poses for an engagement shoot: the Oh my God, look at my hand with Liam holding my fingers delicately, and the more serious: Look at me forever intimate gaze into each other's eyes.
Now, Liam’s arm is casually draped over the backrest of his chair, exuding effortless confidence, while I perch on the armrest beside him, my legs crossed, one shoe barely dangling from my toes.
I’m wearing a white satin dress with a daring slit that runs high up my thigh, the fabric clinging to me in all the right places and gliding like water over my skin. My hair is blown out into soft waves, tossed back over one shoulder, while the other side frames my face perfectly. I asked for a Hollywood look and that’s exactly what I got.
A three-carat princess-cut diamond sits on my ring finger, sparkling under the bright lights. It’s beautiful—stunning, even—but it doesn’t feel like me. Lucas had it arranged for the shoot, efficient as always, knowing there wouldn’t be enough time for Liam to get one. It’s not the one I’d have chosen for myself, but I didn’t say anything. This isn’t the time to make waves or be picky, not when everything’s happening so fast.
And yet, as I glance at the ring, something twists inside me. It’s a reminder that this isn’t truly real, not yet. Even though Liam and I have feelings for each other, even though I know this could happen in the future, it feels strange. Surreal. Like stepping into a dream that’s not entirely mine.
Liam’s hand tightens on my waist, drawing me back into the moment. His warmth seeps through the delicate fabric of my dress, grounding me. When I look at him, his dark eyes meet mine, filled with an intensity that makes my breath catch. He looks at me like this is more than just a photoshoot. Like this is real for him. And maybe that’s what I need to hold onto right now—the possibility, the promise.
“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and for my ears only.
I nod, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. Just a lot to take in.”
His lips twitch into a half-smile, and his thumb brushes lightly against my waist, a silent reassurance that makes my heart stutter. Maybe it’s not the ring I would’ve chosen, but the man holding me like I’m his whole world? He’s the only choice that’s ever mattered.
The man in question, however, is the real distraction. He’s wearing a dark blue suit so impeccably tailored it’s practically sinful. The way it molds to his broad chest and powerful shoulders has my thoughts wandering far from professional. If we weren’t surrounded by people, I’d already be finding ways to tear it off him.
His hand rests possessively on my thigh, his fingers brushing against my skin as if he’s staking a silent claim. Just enough to set my skin alight, and the photographer eats it up, his cameras clicking like a symphony. When I shift slightly, his grip tightens, and I realize he’s holding the slit of my dress captive, keeping it from slipping and revealing too much. The casual intimacy of the gesture sends a shiver through me, but I can’t let it show.
I glance at him through my lashes, and he smirks, leaning in slightly. “ Behave, Sunshine,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear. His tone is teasing, but his dark eyes are filled with unmistakable heat.
Behave? How can I when he’s looking like sin incarnate? My heart races, my cheeks warming. We’re really doing this. The realization sits heavy in my chest and light all at once. A tiny part of me feels the weight of the facade we’re putting on, but the other part—the part wrapped up in how Liam keeps stealing glances at me when he thinks I’m not looking—can’t help but feel something else entirely. This is real.
The photographer clears his throat, his tone light but insistent. “ Alright, one last shot. Liam, I need you to pull Sophie closer—yes, just like that. Sophie, tilt your head toward him—beautiful!”
Liam’s hand slides up to my waist, and I fall down on his lap. I lean into him, my hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His lips brush my temple, and I swear the entire room fades away for a moment. It’s just us.
The flash goes off again, but I don’t even flinch. I’m too caught up in the way he’s making me feel.
“Perfect,” the photographer announces. “I think we’ve got what we need.”
I exhale a breath, leaning back slightly. Liam doesn’t let go, though, his hand lingering on my waist as he murmurs, “You sure you’re okay?”
I nod, forcing a small smile. “Yeah.”
He smirks, his voice low and teasing, “You look incredible, by the way. I’m doing my best to focus on the task at hand but all I’m thinking about is finishing what we started this morning.”
My cheeks flush, and I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips despite myself. “You’re impossible.”
Lucas walks up to us, his precedence almighty. “Great. Now to the statement,” he says, handing a crisp piece of paper toward us. His movements are efficient, his tone all business.
I glance at Liam, who raises a brow but says nothing, his lips twitching like he’s already amused by what’s coming. I reach for the paper, my fingers brushing against it like it might explode in my hands.
The first line almost does:
“We fell in love at first sight…”
My eyes widen, and I look up at Lucas. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.” His expression is as straight as a steel beam.
I read on, my voice growing more incredulous with each line:
“Our connection was undeniable, and over time, our professional relationship blossomed into something deeper. We are thrilled to share this moment of joy and love with the world as we begin this new chapter together…”
I lower the paper, my fingers trembling slightly as I hold it up. “This sounds like the plot of a Hallmark movie,” I deadpan, my cheeks burning hotter by the second.
Lucas shrugs, his expression maddeningly smug. “It’s effective. People will eat it up.”
“Eat it up?” I echo, incredulous. “It sounds like something a lovesick poet would write on a napkin after three glasses of wine.”
Liam leans forward, his forearms resting casually on his knees as he watches me, his dark eyes dancing with barely concealed amusement. “I mean, it’s not that bad.”
I whip my head toward him. “Not that bad? Liam, it starts with we fell in love at first sight. No one believes in that anymore.”
He tilts his head, his grin spreading slowly, deliberately. “Don’t they? Because I remember the first time I saw you outside that club in Barcelona. I was a goner from that moment.” His voice is low, smooth, carrying the kind of conviction that leaves no room for teasing.
My heart stumbles in my chest, his words hitting me harder than I expect. I swallow, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “ I believe in it, but will others?” I manage, though my voice has softened.
Lucas sighs impatiently. “Look, it’s not about whether it’s sappy. It’s about optics. The narrative needs to change, and this statement does that. People will start seeing you as the new it-couple. Trust me.”
I re-read the whole statement, taking in every word. There’s something about the tone that feels familiar, like a voice I know too well. “Leora wrote this, didn’t she?”
Lucas shrugs, his expression smug and annoyingly self-satisfied. “She has a knack for these things.”
“Hey! I helped too,” Adeline pipes up from the corner chair she’s perched on. I glance at her and laugh because of course those two would conspire on something like this.
Liam chuckles beside me, a low, warm sound that eases some of the tension in my chest. I glance at him, and the sight of his soft, slightly amused expression makes my heart ache in the best way. He’s watching me with a look so intense yet tender that it feels like he’s peeling back all my defenses without even trying. Like I’m the only thing in the room.
“Do you think this will work?” I ask, my voice quieter now, the question lingering in the air between us. It’s not directed at Lucas or Adeline—it’s for him.
Liam leans back slightly, his dark eyes steady as they meet mine. “I think this is the start of us taking back control. Together.”
There’s something in the way he says it—a mix of confidence and raw honesty—that makes my chest tighten. He’s not just saying this to fix the mess or salvage the situation. He’s saying it because he believes in us. In me. And that certainty is everything.
Lucas clears his throat, a sharp interruption that brings me back to reality. “So, are you signing off on it?”
I glance down at the paper again, my fingers brushing over the printed words. It’s overly dramatic, almost absurd in how it paints us as this perfect love story. But maybe that’s what we need right now—something big, something bold to fight the narrative being spun against us.
And the truth is, I want this. Not just the fake engagement for the cameras, but the promise of everything it could lead to. Liam. Us. A future. Because our story is anything but perfect. It’s messy. It’s long. It’s tangled with heartbreak and second chances. It’s written in mistakes, in stolen moments, in whispered promises. It’s ours. It’s destined.
I nod, picking up the pen. “Okay,” I say softly, more to myself than anyone else. The single word feels like a quiet promise.
I sign my name at the bottom, the ink stark and permanent against the page. Liam takes the pen from me, his fingers brushing mine briefly before he signs his name next to mine.
Lucas takes the papers, his expression unreadable. “Good,” he says briskly, already shifting into action mode. “I’ll handle the release. You two just make sure you look madly in love.”
Adeline smirks from her corner. “Shouldn’t be too hard for you two.”
I laugh softly, some of the tension breaking. Liam squeezes my hand and pulls it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. His eyes shine with that same intensity as before, but there’s a playful glint now too.
“Madly in love, huh?” he murmurs, his lips curving into a teasing smile.
I arch a brow, matching his playful energy. “You better sell it, Ayoub.”
“Oh,” he says, his voice dropping low and intimate as his hand tightens around mine. ”Selling it won’t be a problem.”
His gaze locks onto mine, the teasing edge fading, replaced by something deeper. Something real.
“Because I do love you, Sophie Anderson. Madly. Completely. No selling required.”
The air stills between us, heavy with something unspoken—but not anymore.
My heart pounds, my breath catching as the words rise in my throat. I don’t hesitate this time.
“I love you too,” I whisper, squeezing his hand, my lips curving into a smile that feels too big for my face. “Madly. Completely. Always.”
His laugh is low, reverent, and full of something I never want to go without. Then he pulls me in, sealing the words between us with a kiss that makes sure I never doubt them again.