The worst kind of betrayal
Sophia Matthews
Sophie's hands trembled as she fumbled with her keys outside the apartment door. The metal felt cold against her fingers, much like the rest of her body after the day from hell she'd just survived. Her white blouse was wrinkled, her black pencil skirt had a coffee stain she couldn't remember getting, and her feet ached in the cheap heels she couldn't afford to replace.
Just breathe, she told herself. You're home now.
The cramped Brooklyn apartment she shared with Ethan wasn't much, but it was supposed to be their sanctuary. Their fresh start away from her dysfunctional family and his shitty relatives. A place where they could build something real together, even if it meant eating ramen noodles for dinner most nights.
She finally managed to get the key in the lock, twisting it quietly. Ethan might be taking a nap, and after the day she'd had, she didn't want to wake him with her problems. Again.
The apartment was dim, late afternoon sunlight filtering through the thin curtains they'd bought at a discount store six months ago. Everything looked normal at first glance. Their secondhand couch they got from a neighbour, the coffee table covered in Ethan's gaming magazines, the tiny kitchen where she'd made breakfast that morning before rushing off to another soul-crushing day at Fletcher & Associates.
But then she heard it.
A sound that made her blood freeze in her veins. A woman's breathy moan, followed by Ethan's familiar groan of pleasure.
No. The word echoed in her mind as her purse slipped from her numb fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Please, no.
Sophie's legs felt like lead as she forced herself toward their bedroom. Each step felt like walking through quicksand, her heart hammering so hard she was sure it would burst from her chest.
The bedroom door was cracked open just enough for her to see inside. Just enough for her world to shatter completely.
Ethan was there, naked and sweaty, his dark hair a mess as he moved above someone who definitely wasn't her. The woman beneath him had bleached blonde hair spread across Sophie's pillow and her perfectly manicured nails were digging into Ethan's back as she arched underneath him.
Sophie recognized her immediately. Jessica Jones from the coffee shop downstairs. The one who always flirted shamelessly with Ethan whenever they went in together, who looked at Sophie like she was something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of her fake designer shoes.
"God, you feel so much better than her," Ethan panted, his voice thick with desire. "I can't believe I wasted two years with that uptight prude."
Two years. Two years of her life, thrown away for someone with bleached blonde hair and a push-up bra.
Jessica threw her head back in laughter. "Poor little rich girl doesn't know what she's missing. Maybe now she'll run back to daddy's money where she belongs."
Sophie's vision blurred with tears, but she couldn't look away. Couldn't move. This had to be a nightmare. She'd wake up any second and find Ethan making her coffee in their tiny kitchen, telling her about the job interviews he definitely hadn't been going to.
But then Ethan shifted, and she saw the expensive watch on his wrist. The one he'd claimed was a gift from his cousin. The designer clothes tossed carelessly on the floor, clothes he definitely couldn't afford on his non-existent income.
How long had this been going on? How many lies had she believed while working herself to the bone to keep them afloat?
Her chest felt tight, like she couldn't get enough air. The apartment that had felt like home five minutes ago now felt like a prison, suffocating her until she felt like she couldn't breathe.
Sophie took a shaky step backward, then another. She needed to leave. Needed to get out before they saw her, before she had to face the humiliation of confronting them. Before she completely fell apart.
But her foot caught the edge of the coffee table, sending one of Ethan's magazines sliding to the floor with a soft thump.
Both heads turned toward the doorway.
Ethan's face went white when he saw her standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Sophie! I can explain—"
"Oops," Jessica said with a smirk, not bothering to cover herself. "Looks like someone came home early."
Sophie found her voice, though it came out as barely a whisper. "Two years, Ethan. I gave you two years of my life."
He scrambled off the bed, grabbing for his boxers. "Baby, please, let me explain. It's not what it looks like—"
"It's not what it looks like?" Sophie's voice cracked. "You're literally inside another woman in our bed!"
"Technically, it's his bed," Jessica added helpfully, examining her nails. "Since he's been paying the rent with my money for the last three months."
The room spun around Sophie. Her knees felt weak, but somehow she remained standing. "What?"
Ethan shot Jessica a murderous look. "Shut up, Jess."
"Why should I?" Jessica sat up, making no effort to hide her naked body. "She was going to find out eventually. You said you were going to break up with her weeks ago."
Sophie stared at the man she'd thought she loved, the man she'd defied her parents for, moved to Brooklyn for, worked her ass off to support while he looked for the right opportunity that never seemed to come. The man she'd defended when her father called him a worthless gold-digger.
Turns out her father had been right. Ethan was a gold-digger.
"How long?" she managed to ask.
Ethan couldn't meet her eyes. "Sophie, please—"
"How long, Ethan?"
"Four months," he mumbled.
Four months. While she'd been getting groped by her perverted boss and working overtime to pay their bills, Ethan had been screwing Jessica and spending her money.
Sophie felt something break inside her chest , not just her heart, but something deeper. Her faith that there were actually good people, not the self-absorbed adults she grew up around. Her belief that love could conquer anything.
"Get out," she said quietly.
"What?" Ethan blinked at her.
"Get out!" The words exploded from her lips with surprising force. "Both of you, get the hell out of my apartment!"
"Actually," Jessica said with a cruel smile, "it's not your apartment anymore. Ethan's been staying at my place most nights anyway. We just thought it would be fun to christen your bed before you got kicked out."
Sophie's hands clenched into fists. "What do you mean, kicked out?"
Ethan finally found the courage to look at her, guilt written all over his face. "The landlord called yesterday. I... I haven't been paying the rent, Sophie. We have three days to get out or they'll evict us."
The floor felt like it was falling out from under her feet. "But I gave you the money. Every month, I gave you my half of the rent."
"I needed it for other things," he said defensively. "Job interviews, networking events—"
"Gambling debts," Jessica corrected with a laugh. "God, you're even lying to her now."
Sophie stared at them both, these two people who had just destroyed her entire life. The apartment she'd used up all her savings to pay for, the relationship she'd sacrificed everything for, the love she felt for Ethan, all of it was gone.
She was twenty-four years old, about to be homeless and unemployed, with nowhere to go except back to the family who had warned her this would happen. The family she'd been too proud and stubborn to listen to.
"I want you both out in ten minutes," she said, her voice eerily calm. "Take whatever you want, I don't care anymore. But if you're still here when I get back, I'm calling the police."
She turned and walked toward the door, her movements robotic and disconnected.
"Where are you going?" Ethan called after her.
Sophie paused at the threshold, not bothering to turn around. "To figure out how to survive this. Something you've never had to worry about."
She grabbed her purse from where it had fallen and walked out, leaving the door open behind her. Let the neighbors hear them. Let everyone know what kind of man Ethan Blackwood really was.
The hallway felt endless as she made her way to the elevator, each step echoing in the silence. She could hear them arguing behind the apartment door, but it all felt very far away.
In the elevator mirror, Sophie barely recognized the woman staring back at her. Her makeup was smudged, her hair was falling out of its ponytail, and her eyes looked hollow and defeated. She looked exactly like what she was. A woman who had lost everything in the span of ten minutes.
Her phone buzzed with a text message. Probably Ethan, trying to explain or manipulate her back into his life. But when she looked at the screen, it was worse.
Mom: 'Darling, I'm hosting a little gathering tomorrow night. You simply must come, there will be some very important people there. No excuses this time. -V
Victoria. Only her own mother signed her texts like a business mail. It was probably one of her assistants anyway, Victoria Campbell couldn't be bothered to personally send a text to her only child.
Sophie almost laughed, but she was afraid if she started, she'd never stop. Of course this would happen now. Of course her manipulative mother would demand her presence right when her life had imploded. The universe had a way of making bad situations worse.
But what choice did she have? She was about to be homeless, she barely had enough in savings to last a month, and her job was hanging by a thread at a company that might not exist much longer.
She was going to have to swallow her pride and go home. Back to Manhattan, back to her parents' world of drama and betrayal, back to being treated like the family disappointment.
As the elevator reached the ground floor, Sophie made herself a promise. This would be the last time she let someone else control her life. The last time she trusted someone who didn't deserve it.
She was done being naive little Sophie who believed in love and happy endings.
It was time to grow up.
But first, she had to survive seeing her mother again. And knowing Victoria, that gathering tomorrow night was going to be anything but simple.
Sophie stepped out into the busy Brooklyn street, the evening air cold against her tear-stained cheeks.
For the first time in her life, Sophie Matthews was completely, utterly alone.
But she had no idea that in less than twenty-four hours everything would completely change.
