The park bench near the clinic was shielded by autumn trees, offering a rare moment of privacy. Sophie sat with Dr. Lucas Hale, her hands wrapped around a paper cup of tea. She had just told him about Leo’s coldness.
“You can’t stay there, Sophie,” Lucas said, his voice low and urgent. “They are destroying you. William is using you as a prop, and Beatrice is using you as a target.”
“I can’t leave,” Sophie said, wiping a tear. “I love them.”
“Do you love them? Or are you just held hostage by your gratitude?” Lucas turned on the bench, taking her hands. “Sophie, look at me.”
She looked up into his kind, stable eyes–the eyes of a man who didn’t have paparazzo stalking him or grandmothers blackmailing him.
“I’m in love with you,” Lucas confessed, the words hanging in the crisp air. “I have been since you walked into the clinic. Leave him. Leave the penthouse. Come with me. We can go upstate. I can give you a quiet, boring, safe life. No cameras. No secrets.”
Sophie’s heart hammered. The offer was dazzling in its simplicity. For a moment, she let herself imagine it–a life where she wasn’t the “Compromised Bride,” but just Sophie.