Billionaire's Redemption: Forced Love

Chapter 2: Echoes of the Past

Pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the car window, the streaks of the city lights reflected her scattered mind, replaying the scenes from the gala. The only sound on the drive home was the engine hum serving as a steady beat for her racing thoughts.

She went back to home, exhaustion had burrowed so deep into her bones. She kicked off her heels and walked on the cool hardwood floor, easing her aching feet, and went into the kitchen. Anne took some deep breaths and drank a glass of water, and gradually, the tension in her shoulders dissipated enough for her to concentrate.

Her studio hummed with the soft glow of a desk lamp, sketches and fabric swatches spread out on the table. The next fashion show was too close to lose one’s concentration. She rooted in, grabbed her pencil and got to work.

Hours slipped by in a haze of creativity. It was a good day to draw — plans, ideas, notes using a mechanical pencil, the hands dancing between the paper and mind. The first rays of day broke through the windows as she slumped back in her chair. It was nearly whole, the silence honeyed and happy beneath her.

But then, when she closed her eyes, Ethan from the gala came into her mind’s eye. His angular features, the coolness in his eyes, the way he had looked at her as if she was someone he didn’t know. He had always had an intensity about him, but now there was a hardness to him that hadn’t been before, almost terrifying.

Sophia shook her head, willing the thought away. She didn’t want to think about him didn’t want to dwell on a past that had just lost its meaning. But the more she tried to push the memories out, the more they stuck to her.

Finally she gave in.

Jumping to her feet, she marched over to the cupboard and almost yanked the door open. Dust motes swirled in the air as she reached into a corner for a box. It had not been opened in years, years it had gone untouched, years she had not allowed herself return to what it held.

Its pages held a dog-eared high school yearbook. Indecisive, she eventually pulled it out, her fingertips hovering over the embossed title. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she took it up and opened it, the pages creaking lightly as she turned them.

There they were.

The pages were packed with photos of a younger Ethan and Sophia, the faces caught in laughter. In the other, they stood shoulder to shoulder at a school fair, Sophia wearing a streched wide smile as she held a stuffed prize, Ethan’s eyes on her, a slight smile on his face. In one, they were on a field trip, Sophia’s laugh leaping across the screen as she leaned into him, his arm slung loosely across her shoulders.

Each time she flipped a page, every photo took her back to an era when things had been easier. There were photos of them at debate club meetings, at prom, at graduation. In each of them, Sophia was bright, alive, and Ethan looked at her with calm intensity, his face softer, more open than the man she’d seen today.

Her fingers skated across a picture of them at summer camp, faces sunburned and footloose. And her teasing that day, she remembered, and the way he’d rolled his eyes but kept smiling. He had been her anchor then, the sole person who could ground her when the rest of the world became too overwhelming.

But that was a lifetime ago.

Sophia slammed the almanac shut, less of a thump, her chest tightening. She had spent years fooling herself, believing that she was over it, that the past no longer had a hold on her. But seeing him tonight had stirred some thing she couldn’t resist, some quality she had made herself believe was behind her.

She closed the yearbook and shoved it back in the cupboard, to the far end. She got up, dusting the dirt off her hands and breathing in deep. Tonight had only been coincidence, a chance encounter with no importance. She had a life to lead, a career to forge, and she would not let the ghosts of the past influence her decision making.

Sophia let the yearbook close with a soft thud, her chest tightening. She had told herself for years she was past this, that the past no longer had power over her. But looking at him tonight stirred up a feeling she could no longer ignore, a yearning she had thought she’d put behind her.

She placed the yearbook back in its box and pushed it to the back of the cupboard. She stood up and took a deep breath, brushing the dust off her hands. Tonight had been destiny, a serendipitous encounter that was no thing. She had nothing to go over, no chains dragging behind her, no dead ends — she had a life to live, a career to build — and she didn’t have time to linger in the shadows of history.