The Sweetest Revenge

Chapter 8 - movie night

The smell of buttered popcorn filled my apartment as I shuffled out of the kitchen, carefully balancing two oversized bowls and a bottle of wine. Sophie had already claimed her usual spot on the couch, her bare feet tucked under a fluffy blanket. She had raided my TV earlier, and of course, she picked the cheesiest rom-coms we had both seen a hundred times. The kind where the girl always gets the guy, no matter how unrealistic it was.

I flopped down beside her, handing her a bowl of popcorn and pouring us each a generous glass of wine. The soft glow of the TV lit up the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls, while the rain outside added a cozy soundtrack, tapping against the windows. It was the perfect setting for a night in—our version of therapy.

"So," Sophie said, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing a few kernels into her mouth. She shot me a grin that was half curiosity, half mischief. "You gonna tell me what's going on with Liam, or do I have to pry it out of you?"

I took a sip of wine, more for courage than anything, and tried to play it cool. "We went for a walk in the park...talked a bit." I shrugged as casually as I could.

Sophie raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with my attempt at being vague. "Uh-huh. And?"

"And...I accepted his offer." I gave her a look, watching her reaction carefully. "You know, the fake relationship thing."

Her eyes widened slightly, but then she settled back into her seat, cradling her glass of wine as if she had seen this coming all along. "I knew you'd do it. I mean, it's you, Emma. Once you've made up your mind about something, there's no changing it. But all I'm saying is—just be careful, okay?"

I frowned, leaning back against the couch. "Careful? Careful of what?"

She popped another kernel into her mouth and shrugged. "You don't know him. Not really. What if he's got ulterior motives?"

I rolled my eyes, even though deep down, her words poked at a little seed of doubt that had already been planted. "Ulterior motives? He doesn't seem like that kind of guy, Sophie."

"And you trust him?"

Did I? I hesitated for a second too long, and Sophie noticed. Her gaze sharpened, and she gave me a pointed look.

"I think so," I finally said, though the words came out softer than I intended. "It's complicated. He's nice... I mean, yeah, he's ridiculously hot, but that's not the point."

Sophie arched an eyebrow at me, clearly not buying my nonchalance. "Oh? And what exactly is the point?"

I sighed, sinking further into the couch. "The point is...this whole fake boyfriend thing—it's not about him. It's about Jake. I'm doing this to show him I've moved on. That I don't need him to be happy." The words sounded right, but the more I said them, the hollower they felt.

Sophie's eyes softened, and for a second, she looked like she was going to say something reassuring. Instead, she hit me with, "But what happens if you start catching real feelings?"

Her question landed like a sucker punch to the gut. Real feelings. The thing I was determined to avoid at all costs. I chewed on my lip, the wine glass suddenly heavy in my hand. I couldn't go down that road again—not after Jake.

"That's not going to happen," I said, my voice a little too defensive. I took a long sip of wine, hoping to drown out the doubt creeping in. "I won't let it. In fact, I'm swearing off boys until I die."

Sophie smirked, clearly amused by my theatrics. "Oh, is that so? And how, pray tell, do you plan to do that?"

I pointed my glass at her, "I have rules."

"Rules?" She raised both eyebrows this time. "What kind of rules?"

"Good ones. Public displays of affection are for show only. No jealousy. Honesty between each other at all times. Limited personal sharing. We attend events together, and—most importantly—there's an end-date agreement."

Sophie blinked. "An end-date agreement? Like an actual expiration date?"

"Yep." I nodded firmly, proud of myself for being so practical. "The week before Jake and Celine's wedding, three months from now."

Sophie stared at me for a moment, then shook her head, chuckling. "Emma, you might want to rethink some of those rules."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Because," she said, swirling her wine around in the glass, "a lot can happen in three months."

I scoffed, though I couldn't deny the tiny sliver of anxiety creeping up my spine. "We'll be fine. We'll stick to the rules, and nothing's going to happen."

"Sure," Sophie said, grinning in that way that told me she wasn't buying a single word. "Whatever you say. But your rules still don't hold a candle to mine."

I laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that hid something deeper. Sophie's rules weren't just random—they were a product of the crap she'd been through.

She used to want nothing more than a serious relationship. In fact, that's all she ever talked about in high school. But every guy who had shown interest only wanted one thing. And as soon as they got it, they were gone, leaving her with nothing but regrets and insecurities. It was a brutal pattern—one that wore her down over time, until one day, she made her own set of rules. Rules to protect herself.

Rule #1: Always be the first to leave.

Rule #2: Never stay the night.

Rule #3: If he asks about your personal life, run.

Rule #4: Don't let them get attached.

Rule #5: And don't—ever—think about falling in love.

"Your rules were born from necessity," I said softly, remembering how hard it had been for her after one particularly devastating breakup. She had changed overnight, gone from the hopeful romantic to the girl who swore off love completely. "But do you ever think you might meet someone who breaks all those rules?"

Sophie gave a noncommittal shrug. "Maybe. But I'm not holding my breath. Honestly, it's better this way."

I wasn't so sure, but I didn't push. Instead, I shifted the conversation. "So...what happened with Daniel?"

Sophie sighed, rolling her eyes like she always did when a guy was involved. "I don't know. He hasn't messaged me today, and I'm overthinking everything, as usual. I thought maybe he was different, but maybe it was just the alcohol. This is why I stick to my rules."

I smirked. "Maybe he's too stunned by spending the night with the Sophie Chen. He's probably been thinking about you all day but is too afraid to text, terrified of your inevitable brutal rejection."

Sophie snorted. "Or maybe he's just ghosted me like the rest of them."

I frowned, noticing the raw pain in her eyes that she tried so hard to mask. "You're allowed to take your time, you know. You don't owe anyone anything, least of all Daniel."

She gave me a small smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks, Em. I guess we're both trying to figure things out, huh?"

I nodded, my thoughts drifting back to Liam, to Jake, to the complicated mess that had become my love life. "Yeah. I guess we are."

The room fell into a comfortable silence for a while, the soft hum of the movie in the background mixing with the sound of the rain. The wine, the blankets, the warmth of Sophie's presence—it all made the chaos of the outside world feel a little more distant.

After a long pause, Sophie spoke up, breaking the silence. "Hey," she said softly, her voice a little more serious. "No matter what happens with Liam or Jake—or any other guy—you know you're going to be okay, right? You're stronger than you think."

I swallowed, feeling a lump rise in my throat. She always knew the right thing to say, even when I didn't want to hear it. "Thanks, Soph. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She grinned, raising her glass. "Same here. To us—surviving heartbreak and terrible men."

"To us," I echoed, clinking my glass with hers.

We settled back into the couch, our wine glasses nearly empty, and I found myself thinking about how lucky I was to have her. Sophie and I had been best friends for as long as I could remember. Our moms were best friends before we were even born, and we practically grew up together. There was a time when Sophie's parents even let my mom, my little sister Izzy, and me move in with them after the divorce. My mom couldn't afford the rent, and Sophie's parents had been there for us, no questions asked.

I smiled at the memory of those chaotic years. There were seven of us in that house—Sophie's mom and dad, my mom, me, Sophie, Izzy, and Sophie's younger brother, Zeke. It was a full house, but it was one of the best times of my life.

Even now, years later, after my mom got back on her feet and we moved out, Sophie and I still had that unbreakable bond. We'd been through everything together—boy drama, school and puberty stress, the rollercoaster that was adulting.

And tonight was no different. It was just another reminder that no matter how crazy life got, we'd always have movie nights and wine to get us through.

Sophie hit the pause button on the remote, then turned to me with a devilish grin. "Okay, but seriously though, we should just marry each other because all guys are idiots."

I smiled at that, "That, I agree."

We clinked our glasses together again, the sound of the glass echoing the truth in her words, and turned back to the TV.

As the movie played on, I couldn't help but wonder if life would be simpler that way—just me and Sophie, no boys, no complications, no heartache. But then, as Jake's face flashed in my mind, that familiar flutter returned, reminding me that no matter how hard I tried, some things just weren't that simple.