The next day, she started her vacation.
Sophia Lowell slept until noon.
She didn’t get up to wash up, but checked the location of her car. As expected, it had been taken in for maintenance.
Her schedule today was simple—to please herself.
She put on high heels she rarely wore, paired with a sexy, tight-fitting dress. Her perfect curves were accentuated by the outfit, flawless and irresistible.
She was beautiful—delicate features, immaculate skin, a head of blond hair that made her look even more regal.
She stood in front of the full-length mirror, examining herself.
She was five-foot-five, but Henry Quinn wasn’t tall, so with heels on, they’d be about the sa height.
So she’d naturally given up wearing heels before, afraid their difference would be too obvious when standing together. Now? She could wear whatever she wanted.
She couldn’t help but mock herself, laughing at how she’d realized everything so late, unable to be herself earlier.
After fixing herself up, she grabbed her purse, getting ready to head out, when she spotted Zane Sterling’s jacket on the sofa.
Forgot to return it again.
She hesitated, then casually slung it over her wrist and left.
She’d gotten her nails done, curled her straight blonde hair into voluminous waves, put on a flawless face at the salon, and went on a frenzied shopping spree.
Finally, she arrived at a bespoke clothing shop—a long-established private atelier. Normally you’d have to wait months, half a year even, for your turn.
"Hi, I’d like to order a shirt." Sophia handed the suit jacket to the attendant.
"Hello, miss! What are your requirents?" The attendant greeted her warmly.
"This is my boyfriend’s suit jacket, but I don’t know his shirt size. Is it possible to tailor a shirt based on this?"
Sophia explained her request.
She’d ruined two of his shirts—she ought to have one made to replace them.
But since he loved black so much, she’d just order a set in white.
She absolutely didn’t want to owe him anything.
The attendant took the suit jacket and inspected it carefully, her gaze pausing on the label behind the size: ’yz’.
Not wanting to make a rash judgnt, she said gently to Sophia, "I’ll have to check with our master tailor. If you’d like to wait here for a bit, I’ll get back to you shortly, is that okay?"
"Sure, thank you." Sophia sat on the nearby couch patiently.
The attendant brought the jacket into the shop’s back room, handed it to an elderly man with a white beard, explained the situation, turning the jacket to show the marking.
The old man with the white beard glanced out at Sophia, adjusting his glasses.
"You’re sure she said it’s for her boyfriend?" he sounded surprised.
"Yes, Master Sterling," the attendant said with a chuckle.
"Bring her in," Master Sterling said, glancing at Sophia, who was looking around curiously.
The attendant said sothing to Sophia, and she followed the indicated direction, noticing Master Sterling watching her.
She nodded slightly in thanks, picked up her purse, and walked into the yard on her heels.
To cross the yard, she passed through a peaceful narrow path, swaying gracefully as she entered.
The perfect figure of an Eastern woman, her petite fra like a porcelain bride awaiting marriage—an enchanting sight.
The other custors had no choice but to look at her with admiration.
"Hello, Master!" Sophia greeted Master Sterling sweetly.
Master Sterling nodded slightly. "So, miss, this is a shirt for your boyfriend?"
Sophia smiled—"boyfriend" was just a casual cover. "Mm, is there a problem? Is it impossible to make a shirt just from the jacket?"
Master Sterling pursed his lips, stroking his beard. "Why not bring him in? It would be much more convenient."
"I don’t want him to know I ruined his shirt, so I wanted to have a new one made for him. But I only have his jacket."
"Ruined it, huh..." Master Sterling gave a subtle, amused smile.
"Is it doable?" she asked.
"Of course. Let’s add each other on WhatsApp. Once it’s finished, I’ll ssage you."
Master Sterling took out his phone, and they exchanged WhatsApp info.
"So, what’s your na?"
"Just call Sophia," she dodged further detail.
"Alright! Wait for my ssage."
Sophia paused. "Don’t I need to pay a deposit?"
"No need." He handed the suit jacket back to Sophia.
"Oh..." She’d never t a place that didn’t require a deposit before.
"Don’t you need to take asurents?" she asked again.
"No need. As soon as I saw this jacket, I knew the exact size. Don’t worry, miss!" he laughed, and just then, his phone rang.
Sophia didn’t disturb him any further, just nodded as he took his call and slipped away.
Just to make sure, she sent her requirents again via WhatsApp, noting: White.
——
Hauling her bags, she dawdled her way back to her rented flat—it was already past seven in the evening.
She checked her phone for the first ti all day.
Henry Quinn had sent a bunch of flirty ssages. She marked them as read but didn’t reply.
At the sa ti, Sienna Lawson had sent her a very different kind of ssage.
She wanted Sophia to attend her engagent party next Wednesday.
Hah, the two snakes finally matched up.
Sophia looked at the words, mist gathering in her eyes.
No crying, no crying! She forced back the tears.
Barefaced cheating, and they still want her to bear witness—how shaless can you get?!
[Congratulations. Who’s your fiancé? Why so sudden? You never ntioned him.]
Sophia wanted to disgust her too, but didn’t reply directly.
[You know him. You’ll see next week.]
Of course she knew...
But Henry Quinn was still acting like a coward, refusing to co clean to Sophia, preferring to keep up their relationship as if nothing happened.
So people are so despicable, it’s almost undefeatable.
She wiped her tears dry and opened the cara in her car.
Sure enough, those two bastards were sitting in her car together!
She let out a sardonic laugh, cranked her phone’s volu up, set it down on the kitchen shelf, and started making instant noodles.
They kept fighting—Henry insisted she get rid of the baby, Sienna flat-out refused.
Henry admitted his thing with Sienna was just a fuck-buddy arrangent, mutual convenience, that Sophia was the one he truly loved. So he wouldn’t agree to marriage nor would he attend the engagent party.
That actually surprised Sophia—she almost believed Henry Quinn truly loved her.
She gave a cold chuckle, lost all appetite for the noodles, and shoved them aside.
Sophia surveyed her one-year-old rental flat and sighed deeply.
Ti to move on.
She knew Henry would agree to the marriage in the end, and she knew he wouldn’t let her go easily.
Henry loved Sophia, truly—just in a cheap way.
She didn’t want to ss with anyone anymore. Fine, let those two bastards have each other!
The next day, Henry drove the car back, coming straight to Sophia’s flat.
The mont he walked in, he saw a man’s suit jacket on the sofa.
"Sophia, this jacket..." Henry set the car keys on the table.
He knew this jacket was expensive, but Sophia wasn’t that kind of woman.
He admired her beauty, her smarts, her innate allure.
"As you can see, I’m dating soone else. We’re done." Sophia cut right to the chase, no ti for nonsense—always her style.
Henry froze for a mont. "Sophia..."
He wanted to ask if it was because of Sienna, but didn’t dare pierce the facade.
"Do you have any other business here? If not, you can leave."
Sophia didn’t even bother to look at him.
"You found out sothing, didn’t you? So you’re using this excuse to brush off, making look bad!" Henry’s eyes reddened.
Sophia just quietly continued packing, ignoring him.
Henry, frustrated, grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop.
But as Sophia let him pull her up, he noticed her eyes were puffy and red.
"Found out what?" she shot back, yanking her hand away. "Don’t touch —disgusting!"
Henry stood there, stunned. "So you know everything?"
"Yeah! I’m letting you go, I’m letting myself go—let’s just leave each other alone from now on!"
Sophia’s eyes were empty, drained of all emotion.
Their silence lingered.
"Just go—let’s keep so dignity." Sophia retreated into her room, locked the door, and lay on her bed, quietly crying.
Henry’s world crashed down around him!
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