Right Number, Wrong Girl
“Then you know some really shitty people,” I shot back. “I can’t. I can’t do this, Hugo. I won’t let you give up your life for me, and there’s no way I can fit into yours.”
He stared at me.
“Not everything is meant to be. We’re one of those things.” I opened the door and looked down. “Please. I’d like if you left now.”
He didn’t move for a moment until he dropped his chin and nodded slowly. “I’ll leave. For now.”
“For good.”
“No. I’m not walking away from you, Sophie. I let you do that last night, and it was a mistake.” He stepped up in front of me. “I love you. I don’t care what anyone thinks about that. I want to see where this goes, what we can do together.”
“Then I’m very sorry for disappointing you.” I inhaled slowly, steeling myself and holding back the flood of tears for one more minute. “Goodbye, Hugo.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I hope not. I didn’t ruin my life for a party you won’t even attend.”
“Fine. I’ll drive back, go to the party for you, then I’ll see you on Sunday.” He stroked the back of my head. “And I will keep coming back. Every single day. I will keep knocking on your door and fighting for us until you have no other option but to give in.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please.”
He let his hand drop and stepped back from me, crossing the threshold to the hallway. “I’ll see you on Sunday, Soph.”
I pushed the door shut behind him and finally gave in to the tears that had been waiting to fall. They streamed out of my eyes silently, and I moved away from the door so he couldn’t hear me crying.
No.
He wouldn’t see me on Sunday.
I wouldn’t be here.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE – SOPHIE
Home Sweet Home
“Mandy! Someone’s at the door!”
“I can hear that, Steve!”
“Can you answer it?”
“No! I’m busy!”
“Watching yesterday’s Countdown is not busy!”
“Speak for yourself! I’m winning!”
“I’ll get it myself, then!”
“Thanks, darling!”
My parents’ bickering from inside their cottage brought a small smile to my face. It was a warm, comforting feeling that was so reminiscent of my childhood. It was a bit like a warm blanket—the argument over who would answer the door was one I’d heard a thousand times, and who won was anyone’s guess.
I guess Mum won today.
The sage green front door swung open, and Dad froze when he saw me. “Sophie. I didn’t know you were coming.”
Neither did I.