Chapter 8

I stood still.

An umbrella opened above me. The snow stopped falling on my face.

That voice I knew so well. "Acting out? Running away from home?"

"Okay. This one's on me."

"Let's go home. Please?"

Sebastian was in a thin wool sweater. He looked exhausted. His wristbones were red from the cold wind. He didn't seem to notice or care.

He followed my gaze down. Shrugged it off. "Came in a hurry. Didn't think to change."

"Sophia. May I come in? Just to sit."

His voice was warm, polished. Every inch the gentleman.

I lifted my eyes. One word at a time:

"Sebastian. We're both adults. Don't make me say it ugly."

"We broke up—"

He cut me off, voice sharp. "Sophia. There's a limit to being spoiled."

"I flew to London for you. Is that still not enough proof?"

There it was. Always.

All these years, Sebastian had let me have my little tantrums. Then he'd come and coax me. As long as I didn't push back too hard. As long as I didn't try to stand my ground.

Right now. Same game.

I was done. I hated the rules.

So I stepped out from under his umbrella. Let the snow fall on my shoulders.

I didn't turn around. I held my books tighter and walked.

Behind me, Sebastian flung the umbrella down.

His voice was ragged, shaking with rage. "Sophia Harrington. Well done."

"You think you've grown wings. You think you can live without me."

"I'd like to see how long you last."

The road stretched out in front of us.

Neither of us looked back.

After that, Sebastian didn't come for me again.

Madeline called to vent. "Okay, I did not see this coming. Sebastian's out there going wild now."

"He set Chloe up in a penthouse, then dumped her after one month."

"Let me count. You've been gone six months. He's been through eight girlfriends."

"The untouchable prince, falling from grace."

I was running numbers on a financial report. My pen paused.

I said, light as air. "I guess."

Madeline sounded relieved. "I'm glad you're past him. My boss is yelling. Gotta run."

The call ended.

I rubbed my dry eyes. Put in drops.

I actually wanted to laugh. Sebastian had always said I couldn't live without him.

And here I was. Living. Fine. Normal. No more insomnia, even.

But when I went to pick up my pen—

My head went blank. And my hand went into the stapler.

My eyes darkened. I went to see a doctor.

The treatment form was so light.

Black ink on white paper.

Bipolar disorder.

I smiled a little. Calm. "How long until I'm better?"

The doctor looked startled. His kind blue eyes softened. "Don't rush it. Life gets better."

I took the prescription. Thanked him. Left.

English skies were always grey. Rarely sun.

So I learned to live with the rain. To make peace with the shadow inside me.

I made friends. Took my treatment seriously.

The year I graduated, I received First-Class Honours.

Three years passed like that.

Until Mom called. She sounded older, weighed down.

"Sophia. Come home. Something's happened."

A fifteen-hour flight.

My eyes burned. My hair was a disaster.

I was almost running by the time I reached the arrivals gate.

From across the hall, I saw Sebastian.

Tall. Composed. There was exhaustion in his face now. But also something like joy. Like a man seeing someone come home.

I stopped a few steps away from him.

"Why are you going after my family's company?"

Sebastian's smile dimmed.

He stepped toward me, took my suitcase. "Sophia. I'm just glad you're back."

I hadn't slept in too long. I was running on empty. "Sebastian. What exactly are you trying to do?"

He stopped walking.

For a long moment, he didn't speak. Then he turned. His voice cracked. "Sophia. Why didn't you come back to me?"

"I missed you so much."

His eyes filled. His voice broke.

First time I'd ever seen him lose his composure in public.

Strangers were staring.

I felt my temples tighten. "If you want to humiliate yourself, feel free."

"Keep the suitcase. Goodbye."