The rain battered the windows of Dr. Lucas Hale’s office. Sophie Laurent-Croft sat on the exam table, not as a patient, but as a refugee from the “Impossible House.”
“He didn’t come to dinner again,” Sophie confessed, her voice hollow. “He sets a place for me, but he spends the night staring at her window. I’m living with a ghost, Lucas.”
Lucas sighed, closing his laptop. He walked over and stood in front of her. “You don’t deserve this, Sophie. You are the most vibrant, loving person I know, and he is turning you into furniture.”
He reached out, cupping her face. Sophie leaned into his touch, starving for the affection she was being denied at home. The dynamic pulled at her–the promise of a man who actually saw her.
Lucas lowered his head. Sophie’s breath hitched. Their lips were inches apart.
For a second, she let herself want it. She wanted to hurt William the way he was hurting her. But then the image of the wedding ring on her finger flashed in her mind.
“No,” Sophie gasped, pulling back sharply. She jumped off the table. “I can’t. I can’t be that person.”
“Sophie–“
“I have to go,” she cried, grabbing her coat and rushing out into the rain, fleeing the temptation that had almost shattered her integrity.