The unsettling reunion

Sophia's POV

I stood as if carved from stone, paralyzed, as Alexander's gaze made its way toward me. My heart raced; blood rushing in my ears. Everything swam around him, with him smiling that self-satisfying, know-it-all smile.

"Sophia," he said, the voice smooth like silk. "It's so wonderful to finally meet you. Your mother has told me so much about you."

I was finding it hard to breathe. I blinked rapidly, trying to gather myself, to awaken from this dreadful nightmare. This was no dream. It was real.

Here stood this man, one whom I hated from the bottom of my heart for having shared a night with me, standing in front of me now in the light-hearted demeanor of someone who had never laid eyes on me.

As if he'd forgotten all about the whole thing.

Am I so easily forgettable?

Or did he choose to forget? Well, if truth came up, he would lose a lot.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. I wanted to yell, to scream, to have some explanation from him, but the words were stuck in my dry, parched throat. A million thoughts rushed through my mind—none that made sense.

His eyes roamed my body, with no hint of familiarity in them.

As if he had never met me before; not once.

I took a little backward step, the ground below feeling so shaky beneath my feet, as if my whole world were rapidly falling apart. Composure; my only means of survival at this point.

Mom stepped in without sensing the storm within me, placed her hand on my arm, offered him a smile that seemed to brighten the world, took my hand with a giggle, and said, "Let's not keep you standing here too long now, darling," obviously eager to move along.

With the warmth and silly affection of a puppy, she seemed to see him as the world best rated husband in her book. He held open the door and without returning a glance at me, turned towards me and greeted me with a low polite voice, as if introducing himself to a stranger.

“A stranger who you had screaming your name all night long.” A voice in my head hissed.

"Please, after you, Sophia," he said, an invitation that flowed off his tongue sweetly but tasted like ink forced down my throat.

I glared at him for a second, trying to gather my bearings. My confused thoughts swirled. How could he be so... calm? So unimpressed?

That's when the fire of wrath began to rise in my cheeks, and I suddenly lowered my eyes.

I gave a sharp nod and climbed on into the car, positioning myself as far from him as I could. It felt far too big, far too empty, and far too claustrophobic; it was dumb leather.

Mother sat next to me blathering wildly about New York, while Alexander, sitting opposite us, wore a smile listening intently, his eyes were all on my mother, who was in a world of her own, utterly oblivious to the storm brewing in me.

The car ride to Alexander’s went on for eternity. Outside, the city passed in a blur, while my mind filled with images of him, how he looked at me, how he pretended not to see. He didn't want to acknowledge me? Or perhaps he was guarding his reputation? Or did that night simply mean nothing to him?

I wanted to scream at him.

But why should he care? What could he possibly say? Nothing. I already knew that.

The unmistakable clack of gears interjected my thoughts. Heart pounding, trembling hands brushed the window. The mansion loomed before me as ever, substantially more than I could've imagined. No, in fact, much, much more.

Monstrous, with a face of minimalism and modernity inconceivable next to other buildings; there was a main fountain before it, with sparkling pure streams falling, with the grand driveway leading up to it like something out of a movie.

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. How could I condense my thoughts? This was not just luxury-it was opulence; wealth dimming anyone's worth, walking in a dream of a stranger.

Breathe, I told myself, trying to regain control. This place would not intimidate me.

"We're here," Alexander's warm voice beckoned.

Definitely not having that effect on him as he was already at home; this really was his world.

Clenching fists at my side, I stepped out of the car.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Alexander quipped, though he saw nothing humble in this place; he must surely have just loved the show of power that comes with this house.

Mom, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to my discomfort, saying, "It's beautiful, Alexander. Can't believe we're really here," as she dashed forward toward the door, happiness radiating from her like an aura.

My feet followed them into the entrance. Marble floors glistened under the light; enormous, high-ceilinged, the kind of place that would be a museum, certainly not a home. Nothing personal here, no warmth. Sterile, frigid; even the air was too clean.

A butler inclined his head slightly towards Alexander as if to announce himself, silently leading us through a grand staircase spiraling up into infinity.

"The rooms have been made ready for you," said the buut, in a friendly voice, yet formal. "So, make yourselves comfortable, please."

And I was already half-asleep, partly from all the walking in the hallway, and partly because of the jet lag and nausea I was already experiencing earlier.

Without further words, Alexander ushered us into an enormous chamber. Huge is just an understatement for the dimension; the bed could be called a kingdom in its own right, heavy silk drapes hanging around it.

Fresh flowers adorned the side table; the ambiance was soft and warm, but still, I felt like an intruder in this place. Not here. Not in this house.

"I need to tell my mother," I mumbled.