Crazy For The Man I Was Supposed To Destroy

SOFIA'S POV “I’m divorcing you!” Mom said from the doorway. She didn’t sit. She didn’t lower her voice. Her bag rested on her shoulder like armor, the gold necklace catching the sunlight with every tiny movement. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor. Dad didn’t answer. He didn’t look at her, at me, at anyone. His eyes were fixed on the grain of the table as if it held answers he refused to see. The lawyer slid the papers across the surface. They stopped just in front of him. “I won’t live like this,” my mother added, straightening her shoulders, a faint tremor in her jaw. “I won’t be embarrassed anymore.” The word hit me like a slap. Embarrassed. She didn’t even mention us. She didn’t mention love, loyalty, or family. She only mentioned shame. Lucas moved first. “You’re leaving because the money’s gone, right?" he snapped, stepping closer to dad. His voice was cracking. “Say it. Admit it.” Mom scoffed. "Don’t talk to me like that,” she said. “You’re running,” Lucas said with his jaw grinding. “You always run.” Charlie stepped in. She grabbed mom's arm, tugged her back gently. “Stop it,” she whispered. Her voice was small but high pitched. “You’re making things worse.” Lucas' glare swung to her. “You’re taking her side?” He raised a brow. She looked at the floor. That was her answer. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My throat tightened. My hands shook. I wanted to yell, to cry, to beg her to stay, to scream at Lucas to stop saying anything. Dad’s hand trembled as he reached for the pen. The lawyer slid a napkin toward him, like he expected him to cry. “Don’t sign it dad. We can fix this, please" Lucas said. My mother rolled her eyes. “Just sign it so we can move on, already” she said, calm as if this were a routine. Dad signed. The scratch of the pen against paper felt deafening in the silent room. It was the sound of everything breaking, of futures folding up like discarded napkins. The house didn’t break in one day. It broke in pieces. Charlie packed fast, folding her clothes neatly, placing them into designer suitcases. My mother hovered, supervising, rearranging, correcting, removing anything she deemed unnecessary. Lucas packed slowly, slamming drawers shut, refusing to let mom touch his things. “I’m going with Dad,” he said. No one argued. No one looked back. I stood in the hallway as bags rolled past me, hearing the wheels scrape against the marble. I wasn’t part of the family anymore. I wasn’t anyone’s side, no one’s ally. I felt invisible. The silence that followed was worse than the arguing. It pressed down on me. The house smelled of cardboard and perfume, of polished wood and goodbye. I wandered from room to room, touching things that weren’t mine anymore. People noticed fast. Whispers followed me down everywhere I went. Former friends watched, pretending not to. “Did you hear her dad went bankrupt?” one girl said. “Guess the rich life didn’t last,” another added, smirking. I felt their eyes burn into me. I wanted to disappear. At the café I used to frequent, the waiter looked at my card a beat too long before shaking his head. Declined. I left without finishing my coffee, ignoring the murmurs behind me. Even online, the world had moved on. ONE YEAR LATER. I lay on a mattress that sagged in the middle, staring at a ceiling with a crack shaped like a crooked question mark. The fan rattled above, threatening to fall apart at any second. Lina, the only one who pretended to tolerate me, stood in the doorway with her arms crossed. “My parents say you need to leave in a month,” she said. “They don’t want trouble.” I nodded. She gave a small, nervous smile and left. I stared at my hands. Thin now. Nails short. No rings. No polish. My phone rang. “This is Justin Corporation,” a woman said. “We’d like to invite you for an interview.” My chest tightened. “Yes,” I said. “I’ll be there.” The building was cold. The floors shined so much I could see my shoes in them. I kept my head down. I answered questions. I smiled when needed. “You start Monday,” they said. I walked out holding a badge with a name that wasn’t mine. Maya Luthers. I couldn't let anyone realize who I was. The mockery was enough. Friday. Board meeting. I stood near the wall with a tablet pressed to my chest. Old men in suits murmured to each other, papers shuffled. The room smelled of coffee, leather, and something I couldn’t place. The doors opened. I heard the footsteps before I saw him. Leather shoes clicking against polished floors. Heavy, confident, dominant. I looked up. Greg Justin? My stomach dropped. My hands went cold. The room blurred at the edges. Dad sitting silently at the table. Mom walking away. Lucas choosing sides. Charlie turning her face. All the pieces of my broken past hit me at once. He sat at the head of the table like nothing had happened. Like he had never taken everything from me. Like he had never ruined my family. Our eyes met. No recognition. Nothing. Maybe, it was because I had my hair tied back, no longer the usual waves and bangs. I tried to step back. My fingers tightened around the tablet until I realized it might crack. I swallowed once. Then again. My chest squeezed so tight I thought I might fold in on myself. Greg Justin adjusted his cufflinks, calm. He leaned back in his chair like he owned the air, like no one could ever touch him. My nails dug into my palm. He glanced at me again, locking eye contact with me. Wait, so he recognizes me? I hope he doesn't try to humiliate me. Then, he looked away. Relief. He didn't recognize me. But then, he looked at me again. Should I break character yet? Slam! He shut his laptop. "This meeting's over!" "But why, Mr Justin?" one of the board members asked. "You know I hate this color of light, don't you?" he replied and stood up from the table. Then, his eyes landed on me. "You..my office now!" My heart raced. Oh god, please don't let him find out it's me until I have everything figured out. Then, I hurried behind him.