Sophie’s POV
The morning light in this house was cruel.
It pierced through the glass walls like it had something to prove—unforgiving, sharp, and too bright for someone who barely slept. The entire Blackwood estate shimmered with sterile perfection, every surface gleaming, every sound amplified. Even the silence carried weight, pressing down like a judgment I couldn’t escape.
I stood barefoot in my apartment kitchen—if you could call it that. It was a sleek space filled with cold steel and black marble, tucked in one wing of the house Adrian and I somehow managed to coexist in. Separate wings. Separate lives. Same air. Same silence.
The coffee machine hissed, the only sound brave enough to fill the tension that hung between us, even when he wasn’t there.
I stared at the reflection of
