Episode 8
1282 Words
The sky was painted gray that morning, heavy clouds threatening to spill rain. Sophie had woken early, as always, to prepare breakfast before leaving for work. Rohan was already up, sweeping the little veranda outside their apartment. It was a habit he had developed—small acts that made him feel useful.
The broom scratched against the ground, his mind wandering. He thought of Sophie’s smile, the way she always defended him against Priya’s venom, and the simple meals they shared. But behind those warm thoughts lingered the sharp sting of yesterday’s insults. Priya’s laughter still echoed in his ears.
“Trash,” she had called him. “Beggar.”
Rohan straightened, gripping the broom tightly. He had endured insults before, but this time it felt different. Not because of what Priya said, but because Sophie had been dragged into it too. She didn’t deserve the shame of being mocked for showing kindness.
Inside, Sophie placed plates on the small table. “Rohan,” she called, her voice warm, “come and eat. I made porridge.”
He set the broom aside and walked in. The sight of her instantly eased his heart. She wore a faded blue dress, her hair tied back, but to him she was radiant.
“Thank you,” he said, sitting across from her.
As they ate, Sophie noticed his silence. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you? Priya.”
Rohan glanced up, startled. “How did you—”
“You’re easy to read,” she interrupted gently. “Her words still hurt you.”
He sighed. “Not because of me. I’ve lived with worse. But because she drags you into it. I don’t want you to be mocked for letting me stay here.”
Sophie reached across the table, resting her hand lightly on his. “Let them laugh, Rohan. Their laughter doesn’t feed me, doesn’t clothe me, doesn’t decide my worth. And it certainly doesn’t decide yours.”
Her calm defiance gave him strength. For a moment, the weight of Priya’s words lifted.
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Priya Returns
It was almost as if fate wanted to test that strength. Later that week, just as Sophie and Rohan returned from the market with bags of vegetables, Priya appeared again. Her heels clicked against the pavement, her perfume announcing her before her voice did.
“Well, well,” she said mockingly, blocking their path. “Look at the happy little couple! Carrying groceries as if they’re building a palace.”
Sophie’s jaw tightened. “Priya, move.”
Priya ignored her, circling Rohan like a hawk. “Still here, beggar boy? I thought you’d have crawled away by now. What are you giving Sophie, hmm? Empty pockets? Empty promises?”
Rohan said nothing. He kept his eyes on the ground, gripping the grocery bag until the plastic strained.
Sophie stepped forward, her voice sharp. “Priya, enough. If you came here just to insult us, then leave.”
Priya smirked. “I’m only telling the truth. Sophie, you deserve better than this ragged man. Why waste your youth cooking for a nobody when you could be living in comfort?”
Sophie’s eyes blazed. “Better? You mean like you? A woman who throws people out when they have nothing left? If that’s what comfort means, I’d rather live in this so-called poverty than in your kind of wealth.”
Priya’s face flushed, but she quickly covered it with laughter. “You’ll regret this, Sophie. You’ll see. He’ll never give you anything.”
With that, she turned and strutted away, her mocking laughter echoing behind her.
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Strength in Silence
Back inside, Rohan set the groceries down and spoke for the first time. His voice was low, heavy. “I’m sorry, Sophie.”
She frowned. “For what?”
“For bringing this into your life. If it weren’t for me, Priya wouldn’t be coming around to insult you.”
Sophie moved closer, her eyes soft but firm. “Rohan, listen to me. You’re not a burden. You’re my friend. And one day, maybe more.” She hesitated, cheeks warming, then added, “Don’t ever think you’re not worth standing beside.”
His heart skipped a beat. Her words, her unwavering loyalty, filled him with something he hadn’t felt in years: hope.
He wanted to tell her then, to confess who he really was. But he swallowed it down. Not yet. Their life together now, even in its simplicity, felt too pure to ruin with the truth.
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Building Together
Determined not to let Priya’s cruelty define him, Rohan began working harder around the house. He repaired the broken shelf in Sophie’s kitchen, patched the leaking roof with borrowed tools, and even started helping the old woman next door carry her water buckets.
The neighbors began to notice. “Sophie’s man is hardworking,” they whispered approvingly. “Not like some others who sit around.”
Rohan felt a quiet pride. He wasn’t using his family’s money, but he was earning respect in small, honest ways. And Sophie noticed too. She often came home from work to find another task completed, another problem solved.
“You’re making this place better,” she told him one evening, smiling as she looked at the neatly fixed curtain rods.
“Not better than you’ve made me,” he replied softly, his words slipping out before he could stop them.
For a moment, silence stretched between them, warm and charged. Sophie blushed and busied herself with arranging plates, but her heart raced.
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Priya’s Cruel Visit
Of course, Priya couldn’t stay away for long. She returned again a week later, this time bringing a friend to witness her mockery.
“Look at them!” Priya laughed as they peered into Sophie’s small living room. “Cooking beans as if it’s a feast. My dog eats better!”
Her friend giggled, covering her mouth. “Priya, you’re terrible.”
Rohan stood, fists clenched, but Sophie touched his arm lightly, stopping him. Then she turned to Priya, her voice steady.
“Priya, laugh all you want. But in this house, there is peace. Can you say the same about yours?”
Priya’s smirk faltered for a heartbeat, but she quickly masked it with scorn. “Keep telling yourself that, Sophie. When he leaves you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She left, her cruel laughter fading down the hall.
Rohan sank back into his chair, anger boiling beneath his calm exterior. “How do you stand it?” he asked Sophie.
She smiled faintly, though her eyes were tired. “Because I know the truth. Priya has money, but she’s poor in heart. And I’d rather eat plain beans with you than sit at a banquet with her.”
Rohan’s throat tightened. He wanted to reach for her, to promise her a life where no one would dare insult her again. But he stayed silent, cherishing the fragile beauty of the life they had built.
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The Quiet Resolve
That night, as Sophie slept peacefully, Rohan lay awake, staring at the cracked ceiling. He thought of Priya’s words, of the sneers and laughter. He thought of Sophie’s strength, her kindness, her unyielding loyalty.
One day, he promised himself, Sophie would know who he truly was. But not yet. For now, he wanted her to see him not as the billionaire’s son, not as an heir, but simply as Rohan—the man she had chosen to stand by despite the world’s cruelty.
And so he closed his eyes, the sound of Sophie’s steady breathing anchoring him. Tomorrow, and the days after, they would continue their simple life. Together.
No matter how loudly Priya laughed.
- Writer
