Sophia's P.O.V.
"Is Nicolas...on his way?" Behind my back, I clenched my fist until my fingers felt numb, infuriated that Bryce had tricked me into this. This must've been his plan all along. He was sneaky for this. I wasn't going to let him get away with this without some kind of negative repercussion. "I thought he'd be here."
"Nic says he's not coming until we talk."
"We?" I snickered.
"Yes, we." She waved, sweeping an arm across the room till it was directly pointing at the couch. "There's some things we should talk. I made tea."
Don't drink the tea, a paranoid voice warned, but I disregarded it. She wouldn't poison me. Brooklyn was a lot of things, but she wasn't a murderer. Bryce, however, was a killer and he seemed to trust her enough to have a private talk with me.
Dragging my heavy feet into the loft, I shuffled to the couch and scooped up a cookie, munching on it to fill in some noise to the quietness in the room. It was also a tactic to stop me from saying what was on my mind.
To shut myself up even more, I scarfed down another cookie and then another. I was itching to give her a piece of my mind so I dropped my next cookie. It was time to clear the air.
The new and improved version of me was opinionated and outspoken. Had I been this vocal months ago, we wouldn't have gotten in a physical fight. I was a push over before, letting her words hit me in the chest and stab my heart, but appearing as though I was unaffected.
It was an act, possibly faker than Milli Vanilli trying to sing. I cared so much about what she said thought me that it made me believe that my worth was as low as she deemed it to be.
That was Sophia from before. The pushover, the doormat, the one who swallowed her emotions at every turn. That fight put things into perspective. I threw my cares out the window and let that confrontation shaped me into who I wanted to be so desperately: the unbothered, unfazed, unapologetic Sophia.
You don't like me? I don't care. I like myself.
I craved that confidence. I wasn't there yet, but I was striving for it.
"We should start with what caused the fight." She cleared her throat, brushing her hand to her bruised cheek. "I was coming from a good place."
"By telling me I was an idiot for marrying Bryce?" I snapped. "Or the part where you tried to tell me I had to make you my maid of honor for my wedding?"
"I never said you had to." She said in a biting tone, pouring hot tea into a cup. I suddenly saw how a piping hot beverage was not a good thing during this heated discussion. "We spoke about that for a short moment before you got defensive and violent. You should've been the bigger person. You didn't have to say those hateful things."
"I wasn't the one who threw the first hit. You could've been the bigger person by not hitting me first." I pointed out. "Get off your high horse, Brooklyn. This conversation isn't going to get us anywhere if you start playing the victim. We were both out of line. I'll apologize for what I said if you apologize."
"Apologize for what?" Veins in her hands bulged while she gripped her cup. "For defending myself?"
"No. Apologize for throwing the first punch and for having the audacity to want to control my special day. I didn't ask you what you thought that day. I was telling you what was already going to happen. Your nasty opinion was unwarranted. You weren't supportive either."
"You told me you were going to marry some random guy you barely knew! How else was I supposed to act?"
"He's not some random guy." I scoffed. "I know him."
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Tethered Hearts | ✓ | Books 1 & 2
Romance❝Why do you have a tongue piercing?❞ I asked, observing the other piercings he had and the designs inked on his skin. I'd never seen so much work done on one person before. ❝What's the purpose?❞ A playful grin quirked on to his lips, cha...