Chapter 405

Vivian Ashcroft devoured every last bite of food before gulping down two bowls of chicken soup. Only then did she finally catch her breath.

Slumping into her chair, she rubbed her distended belly while twirling a toothpick between her fingers. She mentally calculated how many extra cardio sessions she'd need tonight to burn off this binge.

"Ethan," she smacked her lips, "your cooking still needs work. The flavor was mediocre at best."

Ethan Roscente emerged from the bathroom adjusting his tie. His gaze swept over the spotless dishes—clean enough to see his reflection—before curling his lips into a cold smirk.

"Hey, what's with that attitude?" Vivian glared. "I'm giving you constructive criticism. Don't be ungrateful."

Shrugging into his suit jacket, Ethan walked toward Sophia Lowell, who was sipping soup with deliberate slowness. He pressed a hand to her forehead, voice softening. "There's an emergency meeting in New York. Take your medicine on schedule since your fever just broke. Keep the wound dry and change the dressing daily."

Sophia's spoon stilled. She didn't look up. "Go ahead. Don't come back."

This marked the fourth time she'd dismissed him. Ethan's Adam's apple bobbed as he leaned down, eyes boring into her. "Do you really hate seeing me that much?"

"Yes." Her answer came swift and sharp.

The air turned glacial. Vivian shrank into her shoulders, darting nervous glances between them. The oppressive atmosphere radiating from Ethan wisely sealed her lips.

A phone ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at the screen and declined the call. Moving toward the foyer, his mouth twisted into a mocking curve. "As you wish."

The door slammed shut with enough force to make Vivian flinch.

"Sophia..." She scooted closer with concern.

Sophia pushed the soup bowl away and rose unsteadily. "I'm fine."

Vivian intercepted her attempt to clear the table. "Sit down, patient!" She efficiently stacked the dishes while stealing glances at her friend's pallid profile.

Outside, tree shadows danced across the window. Sophia stared blankly at the shifting patterns. Vivian wiped the table with a sigh. Others might not know, but she understood—the more decisively Sophia pushed people away, the deeper it cut her.

How could anyone endure watching the love of their life marry someone else?

Especially someone like Sophia, whose loyalty ran bone-deep. After Ethan's betrayal years ago, it had taken her two years to barely function again. They say when guarded hearts finally love, they love catastrophically. The saying held painfully true.

Vivian remembered Sophia's childhood—an absent father, a jet-setting mother. Though her grandparents provided warmth, it couldn't replace parents. By middle school, even that comfort vanished when she boarded away from home. By the time her mother noticed the emotional distance and quit her job to reconnect, Sophia's personality had already hardened beyond repair.