The Things People Inherit
1159 Words
Sophia avoided Adrian for exactly twelve days.
Not intentionally.
At least that was what she told herself.
Work became unusually hectic after the Singapore deal collapsed. Two department heads resigned within the same week, one retail project faced construction delays, and her mother kept calling every few nights pretending everything was fine when Sophia could hear the strain in her voice anyway.
Which was good.
Busy people didn’t have time to think about dangerous men with observant eyes and irritatingly thoughtful text messages.
Unfortunately, Adrian Reyes seemed unwilling to disappear quietly.
“Ms. Lin?”
Sophia looked up from her laptop during Monday’s executive meeting.
Her assistant stood beside the conference room door looking deeply uncomfortable.
“There’s… someone here to see you.”
“I don’t have appointments this morning.”
“He says he knows.”
A few executives exchanged curious looks.
Sophia narrowed her eyes immediately.
“No.”
“I didn’t even say who it was.”
“You didn’t need to.”
The assistant hesitated. “Should I ask him to leave?”
Sophia should say yes.
Instead:
“…Five minutes.”
The assistant looked relieved and quickly escaped.
One of the senior executives smirked slightly after the door closed.
“Boyfriend?”
Sophia looked at him with enough emotional violence to shorten his lifespan.
The room immediately fell silent again.
⸻
Adrian was waiting near the outdoor terrace café attached to the building lobby.
Jakarta’s afternoon heat hung heavily in the air after the morning rain, the skyline blurred slightly beneath gray clouds.
Sophia spotted him immediately.
White dress shirt.
Sleeves rolled.
Phone in one hand.
Coffee in the other.
Like he had stepped directly out of a lifestyle magazine designed specifically to irritate her.
“You’re trespassing professionally now?” she asked while approaching.
Adrian glanced up.
“There she is.”
“You have four minutes.”
“That’s generous.”
“It’s really three.”
He smiled faintly and held out the second coffee in his hand.
Sophia stared at it.
“No.”
“You haven’t slept properly in days.”
Her expression hardened slightly.
“You don’t know that.”
“The concealer under your eyes says otherwise.”
“I regret giving you my business card.”
“You looked meaner in your photo.”
Sophia almost rolled her eyes.
Almost.
“Why are you here, Adrian?”
For once, he didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he leaned lightly against the railing overlooking the street below.
“My company’s bidding on the Tanaka redevelopment project.”
Sophia froze slightly.
That was impossible.
Very few people even knew the project existed yet.
“How do you know about that?”
“Because my firm designed the original proposal.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re an architect?”
“Urban design consultant.”
That explained certain things.
The confidence.
The attention to detail.
The way he noticed spaces—and people—too carefully.
Sophia crossed her arms. “And what exactly do you want from me?”
“A meeting.”
“You could’ve emailed.”
“You ignore emails.”
“I ignore people.”
“I noticed.”
The wind shifted softly between them.
Below the terrace, traffic crawled endlessly through the city while thunder rumbled somewhere far away.
Sophia hated how easy silence felt around him.
Most people rushed to fill silence because they feared awkwardness.
Adrian simply existed inside it comfortably.
Like he wasn’t trying to impress her.
Which made him harder to defend against.
“You know,” Adrian said quietly, “you’re very different from what people say.”
Sophia gave a short laugh.
“That’s never followed by something pleasant.”
“They say you’re intimidating.”
“I am.”
“They say you’re ruthless.”
“Sometimes.”
“They say nobody lasts more than six months dating you.”
Sophia’s face went expressionless.
“There it is.”
“But nobody says you look tired all the time.”
Something inside her chest tightened unexpectedly.
Dangerous.
Again.
Because she didn’t know how to fight kindness that asked for nothing.
Anger was easy.
Distance was easy.
Men wanting her body was easy.
Concern was harder.
“I don’t need someone analyzing me,” she said coldly.
Adrian nodded once.
“Okay.”
No argument.
No teasing.
Just okay.
And somehow that unsettled her more.
Sophia looked away first.
Her phone buzzed suddenly against the table.
Mom.
Her stomach sank immediately.
She answered quickly.
“Hello?”
“Sophia…” Her mother sounded breathless. “Are you busy?”
“Yes. What happened?”
“It’s nothing serious.”
Which meant it was serious.
Sophia stood straighter instantly.
“What happened?”
A pause.
Then quietly:
“I saw your father today.”
Every muscle in Sophia’s body stiffened.
Across from her, Adrian’s expression shifted slightly as he noticed the change in her face.
“He came by the apartment,” her mother continued softly. “He… brought his youngest daughter.”
Sophia closed her eyes briefly.
Of course he did.
Of course.
“He said she might study in Jakarta next year.”
The familiar bitterness rose immediately in Sophia’s throat.
Another daughter.
Another reminder.
Another living piece of betrayal arriving politely at the front door.
Her mother laughed weakly on the other end of the call.
“You know, she’s actually very sweet.”
Sophia’s grip tightened around the phone.
“Mom.”
“It’s not her fault.”
“That doesn’t make it hurt less.”
Silence.
Then her mother spoke quietly.
“You sound angry.”
“I am angry.”
“At your father?”
Sophia looked down at the city below them.
Traffic.
Rain.
People rushing somewhere.
“At you,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
The words shocked both of them.
Her mother fell silent completely.
Sophia’s chest tightened instantly with regret.
“I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” her mother interrupted gently. “You’re tired.”
No.
That was worse.
Because her mother always forgave too easily.
Always softened herself to survive other people’s damage.
Sophia hated it.
Hated how weakness had shaped her mother’s entire life.
And hated herself for sounding cruel to the only person who had ever stayed.
After the call ended, silence settled heavily around the terrace.
Sophia stared at her phone without moving.
Then quietly:
“She still defends him.”
Adrian said nothing.
“She spent twenty-eight years being humiliated, and she still defends him.”
Rain began falling lightly again beyond the terrace roof.
Sophia laughed once bitterly.
“That’s what love does to women like her.”
Finally, Adrian spoke.
“No,” he said softly. “That’s what survival does.”
Sophia looked at him.
Really looked at him.
And for the first time, she wondered what kind of life had taught Adrian Reyes to say things like that.
- Writer
