Sophie’s POV
The phone line went dead with a final click, but I still pressed it to my ear, as if I could sohow reach through the silence and take back everything I’d done. Diane’s words echoed in my head, each one a knife twisting deeper into my chest.
"I pray you die in hell, you backstabbing bitch!"
A sob escaped my lips as I finally lowered the phone. The truth of her words cut through , sharper than any blade. I had brought this upon myself. Every bit of her hatred was deserved.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I slapped my cheek hard, welcoming the sting. Again. And again. Physical pain was easier to bear than the crushing weight of what I’d done.
I slid down against the wall until I hit the floor, my body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. "You deserve everything she said. You deserve worse." My voice sounded hollow in my empty apartnt. "You don’t deserve to live after what you’ve done to her."
How had I fallen so far? How had I let myself betray the one person who had always been there for ? My sister. My protector. The one who had picked up every ti I fell, who had defended against bullies, who had helped with howork and heartbreaks and everything in between.
And how had I repaid her? By sleeping with her husband. By continuing the affair even after we’d been caught. By choosing luxury and excitent over loyalty and love.
I dragged myself up from the floor and stumbled to the bookshelf where a frad photograph sat. It was Diane and at the beach three sumrs ago, our arms wrapped around each other, faces pressed together as we smiled at the cara. Happy. Connected. Sisters.
My fingers trembled as I traced our faces. "Where did I go wrong, Diane?" I whispered, a fresh wave of tears blurring my vision. "How did I beco this person? This terrible sister when you’ve always looked out for ?"
The Diane in the photograph smiled back, frozen in ti, unaware of the betrayal that would co. I clutched the fra to my chest, rocking slightly. We’d been inseparable once. She’d been my rock, my confidante, my biggest cheerleader.
And I’d thrown it all away for what? Expensive dinners? Designer clothes? The thrill of forbidden desire? The mory of Liam’s touch now made feel physically ill.
Every gift he’d given sat around my apartnt like evidence of my cri. The diamond earrings on my dresser. The Hermès handbag by the door. The expensive perfu on my vanity. All of it bought with money from the life he shared with Diane. My sister’s life that I’d helped destroy.
I reached for my phone again with sudden urgency, scrolling to find my mother’s number. She would know what to do. She always did.
The phone rang once, twice, three tis before going to voicemail. I tried again imdiately. Still nothing. On the third try, I left a desperate ssage: "Mom, I’m sorry for everything, please I need you."
When that brought no response, I sent a text ssage: "Mom, I’m sorry for everything, please I need you."
The screen remained stubbornly silent. I couldn’t bla her. After everything that had happened, why would she want to speak to the daughter who had torn their family apart?
I stood up, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. Wallowing in self-pity wouldn’t undo the damage I’d caused. Nothing would. But maybe, just maybe, there was still sothing I could do.
"I need to right my wrong," I said aloud, the words giving a sliver of purpose. "I need to help my sister now that she needs most."
As if on cue, my phone lit up with an incoming call. Liam. I steeled myself and accepted the call.
"Your sister is trying to ruin my life!" His voice ca through, his tone venomous. "That interview she gave, the things she’s saying about ... I won’t back down, Sophie. She has no idea who she’s dealing with."
My stomach clenched at the threat in his words. This was the real Liam—not the charming, attentive man I thought I’d fallen for, but soone calculating and dangerous.
"Liam, please," I tried to sound soothing, playing along while my mind raced. "Let’s talk about this calmly. Getting angry won’t solve anything."
"Calm? You want to be calm?" He laughed bitterly. "I’m about to lose everything I’ve worked for. My reputation, my company, my money—all because your sister couldn’t keep her mouth shut about our little affair."
Our little affair. The casual way he dismissed our betrayal made sick. As if it were a small indiscretion rather than the destruction of a marriage, a family.
"I think I might have a way to make Diane back down," I found myself saying, the lie forming before I’d even consciously decided on it.
There was a pause. "You do?" His voice had shifted, interest replacing rage.
"Yes," I continued, forcing a confidence I didn’t feel. "But we need to discuss it in person. It’s... delicate."
"Fine," he agreed after a mont. "Co over to the house. I’m losing my mind here."
"I’ll be there soon," I promised.
"Good. Because I’m at my breaking point, Sophie." His voice dropped to sothing cold and terrifying. "If I didn’t want to avoid staining my hands with blood, I would have gotten rid of Diane a long ti ago."
The words hit like a physical blow. My hand tightened around the phone. "What did you just say?"
"You heard ." His tone was matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing the weather rather than contemplating murder. "Just get here."
The line went dead, and I stood frozen, my blood running cold. This wasn’t just about an affair or a ssy divorce anymore. Liam had just casually admitted he’d considered killing my sister. My sister, who was carrying his children. Children he didn’t even know about until now.
Had I really heard that?
He would have killed her.
Killed her.
A choked sob rose from my throat. My knees gave out, and I sank onto the floor, the cold tiles pressing against my skin as the weight of reality crashed into .
All this ti, I’d been blind. I thought I was in love. I thought Diane had overreacted, that she was just bitter or dramatic. But she wasn’t. She saw him for what he truly was.
And I didn’t listen.
"God... Diane," I whispered. "I’m so sorry."
I had chosen him over her. I had defended him when she cried, when she begged to see what he was. I rembered the look in her eyes the day she found out—broken, betrayed, hollow.
And I had made her feel like it was her fault.
I curled into myself, hugging my knees. "How could I have been so stupid?"
The mory of Diane’s voice over the phone ca back to .
"I pray you die in hell, you backstabbing bitch!"
She hated . Truly, deeply. And she had every reason to.
But that didn’t matter anymore. I couldn’t undo what I’d done, but I could stop any more harm from coming to her. Even if it ant lying to Liam. Even if it ant pretending to still be on his side.
Even if it ant destroying what was left of the life I’d chosen.
I stood slowly, wiping my face. I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red, my cheeks blotchy, but for once I didn’t look away.
"I’ll protect her," I whispered. "Even if she never forgives . Even if she never speaks to again."
My voice cracked, but I didn’t care.
"I’ll do it because I owe her my life. And because she deserves to win."
A sudden clarity washed over . I knew what I had to do.
I moved to my closet, pulling out clothes for my eting with Liam. Sothing alluring enough to maintain the charade, . My fingers lingered on a red dress Liam had bought —a dress that cost more than my monthly rent.
I shoved it aside, reaching instead for a simple blouse and jeans I’d bought myself. No more gifts. No more pretending to be soone I wasn’t.
As I dressed, I thought about what lay ahead. Liam wouldn’t go down easily. He was powerful, connected, ruthless. And I was just... . Sophie. The weak sister. The one who always took the easy path.
But not anymore.
I touched the photograph of Diane and one more ti. "I’ll make this right," I promised. "Or I’ll die trying."
For the first ti in months, I felt the stirrings of sothing that had been buried beneath desire and greed and selfishness: hope. Not hope for forgiveness—I wasn’t naive enough to expect that—but hope that sohow, I could help undo so of the damage I’d caused.
It wouldn’t be enough. Nothing ever would be. But it was a start.
A start on the long, painful path to redemption
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