Sold to Bastard Alpha after My Divorce!-Chapter 205

Aria’s POV

"You and Cassius—" I pointed at her. My voice was barely above a whisper because of the sleeping children, but it was an extremely *emphatic* whisper. "You slept with Cassius?!"

"I wouldn’t say *slept*—"

"Sophie!"

"Okay. Yes." She dropped her head. Her hair fell forward around her face. "Yes. We did. It happened. I’m not proud of—well, I’m not ashamed of it exactly, but I’m—it was a decision made under circumstances that were—"

"That were what?"

"Romantic," she admitted, in a voice so small I had to lean forward to hear it. "Very romantic. Cassius is annoyingly romantic, did you know that? Even when he’s had wine. Actually especially when he’s had wine. He kept saying things like—" She stopped. Shook her head. "Never mind what he said. The point is. It happened."

I looked at her.

She looked at the floor.

"Sophie," I said, very carefully. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

She was quiet for a second. Then she looked up, and there was something in her face that wasn’t embarrassment anymore. Something more uncertain.

"Because I was scared you’d think I didn’t take good care of the girls," she said. "I put them to bed first. I promise I did. They were completely asleep before anything—but still. I was supposed to be watching them, and instead I..." She trailed off. Made a helpless gesture. "And also he’s your best friend. Or one of them. And I’m not from here, and I don’t know how things work here, and I thought maybe you’d be upset that I—"

"I’m not upset about that." I pressed her hand. "Sophie. I don’t care about any of that."

"Really?"

"Really. The girls were safe. You took care of them. That’s what matters." I gave her a look. "What I care about is what happened *after.*"

She blinked.

"You two," I said. "Right now. What is the situation?"

She pulled her hand back. Started picking at her sleeve. "There is no situation."

"Sophie."

"We haven’t spoken." She said it very casually. Very breezy. "Since that night. We went our separate ways in the morning and that was that."

I stared at her.

"He needs to take responsibility," I said.

"Aria—"

"I’m serious. Cassius is a good person. He wouldn’t just—he wouldn’t want to leave things like that." I was already reaching for my phone. "I’m calling him."

"Don’t." She grabbed my arm with both hands. "Do NOT."

"Why not?"

"Because—" She made a frustrated sound. Pressed her mouth shut. Then, reluctantly: "He already called me. Multiple times. He’s been trying to reach me."

I put the phone down very slowly.

"It was me," Sophie said, in a much smaller voice. "I didn’t pick up."

"You didn’t—Sophie."

"I know."

"You’ve been ignoring his calls."

"I know."

"Why?" I looked at her. Actually looked at her. The way she had her arms folded around herself. The way she kept glancing toward the door. "If he’s been calling you—if he wants to talk—why wouldn’t you—"

"Because what if he’s calling to yell at me?" she burst out.

Silence.

I blinked.

"What?" I said.

"What if he—" She threw her hands up. "What if he’s calling because he regrets it? Or because he wants to explain that it didn’t mean anything? Or because he thinks I got too attached and he wants to set boundaries or—" She pressed her fingers against her temples. "I don’t know what he’s going to say! And if it’s bad, I would rather just not know. Is that so terrible?"

I looked at her.

For a moment I didn’t say anything.

Because she was sitting there—Sophie, who told me to fight for myself, who looked me in the eye in a dozen different moments and said *you deserve better, you deserve more, stop shrinking yourself for people who don’t appreciate you*—and she was curled in on herself like a small frightened thing, running away from a phone call because she was scared of what she might hear.

"You know," I said, "when you give advice, you’re very clear-headed about these things."

She made a face. "Don’t."

"You’re very wise when it’s someone else’s situation."

"Aria—"

"Very confident. Very practical. *He should fight for you. You shouldn’t have to beg for basic decency. Your feelings are valid and you deserve—*"

"All right, I hear you." She buried her face in her hands. "I know. I know, I know, I know."

"How is it that when it’s your turn, you decide the answer is to hide from your phone?"

"Because it’s different when it’s you!" She looked up. Her eyes were bright. "When it’s you, it’s obvious. You’re wonderful and kind and anyone would be an idiot not to want to be with you. But when it’s me, I can’t think clearly. All the logic just..." She made an exploding gesture with her hands. "Gone."

I reached out and covered her hand with mine.

She looked down at it.

"He was calling you," I said. "Multiple times. Does that sound like a man who regrets it?"

She didn’t answer.

"Does it sound like someone who wants to yell at you?"

Silence.

"Sophie."

"...no," she said. Very quietly.

"Then maybe," I said, "you should answer the phone."

She was quiet for a long moment.

Outside the window, the sky had shifted into that deep amber of late afternoon, the city going golden at the edges. The monitors beeped softly. Lilith made a small sound in her sleep and burrowed deeper into the pillow.

Sophie looked at her.

Then she sighed.

A long, full-body sigh that seemed to come from somewhere very deep.

"I’m going home," she said.

I looked at her. "Home home?"

"Home home." She nodded slowly. "In a few days. Once you’re on your feet and everything is settled and I know you’re okay." She squeezed my hand once. "I’ve been here for weeks. My mother is losing her mind. And I think—" She stopped. Looked at the window. "I think some distance will help me think more clearly. Get some perspective."

"Or," I said, "you could just answer his calls."

"Aria."

"I’m just saying."

"I hear you." She stood up. Smoothed her blouse. Picked up her jacket from the chair and slung it over her arm. Then she stood there for a second, looking at me, and her expression went soft in a way that had nothing to do with jokes or deflection.

"I’m really glad you’re okay," she said. "Like. Really, really glad."

"I know."

"I was terrified." Her voice went slightly unsteady. "When Kael called and said you’d collapsed, I—" She stopped. Took a breath. "You scared me, Aria."

"I know," I said again, softer this time. "I’m sorry."

She made a dismissive wave. Blinked fast. Visibly pulled herself back together.

"Take care of that baby," she said firmly. "And those girls. And that absolutely unhinged Alpha who looks at you like you hung the moon."

"I will."

"And rest." She pointed at me. "Actual rest. Not the kind where you’re secretly planning something while lying still."

I put my hand to my heart. "I promise."

She laughed. A real one. The kind that made her whole face crinkle.

Then she looked at the window. That soft, private, slightly wistful expression moving across her features.

"Besides," she said, more to herself than to me, "if it’s meant to be with the big handsome healer, then it’ll be meant to be." She picked up her bag. "If we’re supposed to see each other again, fate will figure it out."