The Man Who Destroyed Me Is Now Begging to Mend Me 17
A brief video, lasting less than twenty seconds, then played out. It unmistakably showed Emily picking the item up and placing it into her own clutch.
A murmur of astonishment spread through the room. The evidence was undeniable. Sophia was innocent. It was the beloved fake heiress-Emily-who had lied.
The truth made the situation utterly ironic. Sophia’s own family, and the man who was her husband, had all rushed to defend the wrong person.
Watching the screen, Emily’s face drained of all color before flushing a deep, mortified red.
She turned burning, tear-filled eyes toward Sophia, shooting her a look of pure hatred. Then she hid her face in her hands and burst into dramatic sobs.
“I know you blame me for taking what was rightfully yours, Sophia. But fabricating evidence? That’s beneath even you,” Emily cried.
Margaret saw red. Before anyone could react, her palm connected with Sophia’s cheek in a stinging slap.
“Happy now?” Margaret’s voice shook with fury. “You think destroying Emily’s reputation will make me welcome you into this family?
“I will never claim you as my daughter. This house has no place for your kind. Get out now and never come back!”
The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony tearing through Sophia’s chest. She had never understood her mother’s hostility-why it had been there from the very beginning, as though her very existence were a mistake.
She searched Margaret’s flawless features desperately, hoping to find some flicker of maternal softness. But all she saw was unvarnished contempt.
Her gaze shifted to Emily, who watched the scene unfold with triumphant glee, as if Sophia were nothing more than dirt beneath her shoe.
The crushing weight of betrayal and despair threatened to swallow Sophia whole, leaving only madness in its wake.
The questions burned in her mind-why did everyone adore Emily while she remained unloved, and why was she always the one left behind?
“But why?” Sophia’s voice trembled. “I’m the one who’s actually your daughter.”
Margaret’s response was icy. “If I’d known you’d grow to be so cruel, I would have regretted ever having you.”
Sophia stared in disbelief, her lips quivering with suppressed emotion.
“I’m cruel? What about her?” Sophia’s voice rose as she looked at Emily. “Why don’t you ask who she was with when she needed that condom?”
The crowd leaned in almost as one, cager to hear the answer.
“That’s enough!” Lucas finally intervened, grabbing Sophia’s arm. “You’re causing a scene. We’re leaving.”
Sophia met his gaze, her eyes so bloodshot that they looked painful. “Lucas,” she said with finality. “We’re through.”
Before he could respond, she tore her arm from his grip.
Without another glance at anyone, Sophia straightened her shoulders and walked away. She knew it was time to wake up from this beautiful dream.
An inexplicable panic seized Lucas as he watched Sophia walk away. Some deep instinct warned him that her departure through that door would be final.
“Sophia!” he called after her, already moving to follow, when a gentle pressure on his arm stopped him.
“Lucas…” Emily whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please stay. I don’t feel well.”
All of Lucas’s urgency to chase after Sophia dissolved at Emily’s plea.
His attention fully shifted to Emily. “What’s wrong? Do you need me to call the doctor?”
She gave a weak shake of her head. “That won’t be necessary. Just stay with me.”
The night air held a deceptive chill, the promise of spring forgotten as an icy wind cut through Sophia’s thin clothing.
Standing alone on the dark street, she tried to call Annabelle, but the phone rang unanswered. The silence that followed felt like abandonment.
As if her day wasn’t bad enough, it started to rain. It was a light but steady drizzle, feeling like a final, cruel touch to her misery.
Sophia had left her luggage behind at the Evans residence, and with nothing but a phone in her hand, she had no way to stay dry.
She huddled under a tree, trying to book a ride on her phone.
Mark