“If?” The word comes out harder than I intend, and she flinches. She brought Sophie here. She brought her back to me. I can’t hold on to the anger, knowing my mother brought Sophie back to me. Regardless of what her reasoning was, so long as I can catch her and keep her from running off again.
My mother’s hesitant to reach out and take my hand. I can’t remember the last time she’s touched me other than the polite hugs we exchange in public when I agree to see her. “I just want a chance…”
“To what?” I ask her, the words pushed through my teeth. “To lie? To pretend like you did nothing?” My words turn harder, and the memories come flooding back. She didn’t even cry at his funeral. Behind closed doors she didn’t mind being real with my father. And the real version of her is a person I want nothing to do with.
“I have to go get her,” I tell her before I can go back to what used to be.
My mother doesn’t let go of my hand, although she still hasn’t stood up.
“I can explain, Madox.” My mother’s words are hushed as she leans across the table, her forehead marred with a deep crease while worry is etched into her eyes. “Please, I can make this right, I just need to speak with Sophie.”
I don’t even dignify her request with a response. I’ve already waited too long, knowing Sophie. If I wait any longer, I may never see her again.
Just the thought of her hiding away until she can leave sends a visceral response through my chest. My pace quickens, my body fighting the urge to run.
“Madox, please, I’m trying to help!” My mother’s cry carries through the restaurant as I leave the private room, doors swinging behind me.
By the time I’ve exited the front doors, I spot her by her car, and then I do run. I run as quickly as I can, stepping out in front of a car pulling in for valet parking. My palm hits the hood of their car, only a few feet away as they slam on the brakes.
Shit.
They stop in time, but I don’t bother waiting to apologize.
“Are you okay?” the doorman asks and calls out, “Sir!” but I don’t respond. They don’t matter. So long as I can run to her, that’s all that matters.
Two rows up, Sophie’s staring over her shoulder at me, the car door open and the breeze blowing her hair behind her.
Don’t run from me, Sophie, I pray as I stare straight ahead at her, moving even faster, ignoring another beep of a horn and a couple I brush past to get to her more quickly.
“Sophie!” I call out to her in the crisp night air. My lungs burn from the chill and exertion. Surprise flashes in her eyes and I can see her swallow; I can see the pain lingering in her bright blue eyes.
“Madox.” She says my name reverently as she closes her door, not getting in and turning to face me instead. Her arms wrap around herself and she takes two steps toward me by the time I stop in front of her.
“Don’t leave.” The words slip from me before I can say anything else, and I take her arms in my hands, staring into her doe eyes. “Don’t leave.”
My heart pumps hot blood, hard and fast. My body is ringing and my mind screaming, it’s now or never.
“Did you know?” she asks me quietly, and it takes me a second to realize she’s referring to my mother and the shit she pulled.
“I still don’t understand what the hell you were doing there.”
“You didn’t know?” she continues to question as if I would lie to her.
“I had no fucking idea you knew my mother, let alone that she hired you.”
She considers me for a moment and then nods her head, looking as if she’s going to turn around and get back in her car she tells me, “That’s all I needed to know.”
“I want you to stay. You told me to tell you; here I am.” My voice raises when she doesn’t answer me. “I would do anything to keep you. Stay with me. Whatever happened in there doesn’t matter. None of it matters.”
I watch as she swallows and then takes a half step closer to me. “It mattered to me,” she says softly. Her lips part but she doesn’t speak, looking back at the doors to the restaurant. “I thought…”
“I know. I know, Soph. I don’t know why my mother does the shit she does, but I understand if you’re feeling low right now.” I try to phrase my next words the right way, but I don’t know how to say what I’m feeling. I just want to be her person. I want her to let me love her.