Chapter Six: Denial

Elena’s POV

The question hung between us like something unfinished and sharp.

Sophie sat across the kitchen table, waiting. Her glass of water remained untouched. The sweetness had left her face, leaving only the colder edge I had seen too many times when no one else was watching. She wanted an answer. She wanted a word she could carry somewhere else and reshape into whatever story suited her best.

My fork stayed still.

The noodles had gone lukewarm. The old instinct rose,to deny everything, to laugh it off, to make her doubt what she thought she had seen. But denial would have been another kind of confession.

Silence was safer.

But silence gave her nothing.

Before I could decide whether to speak at all, a familiar voice came from the doorway.

“Elena.”

Mrs. Grace stood there, one hand resting lightly against the frame. Her gray hair was pulled back the way it always was, neat and practical. The soft lines around her eyes deepened when she looked at me. She had worked in this house longer than I had lived in it. She had seen the version of me that arrived here scared and quiet, and she had never once treated me like I was temporary.

“Mr. Williams would like to speak with you in his office,” she said. Her tone was gentle, but there was no room for argument in it.

Relief moved through me so quickly it almost made my hands shake. I set the fork down, rose from the chair, and prepared to leave.

“Running away again, Elena?”

Sophie’s voice stopped me.

I turned slowly.

She leaned back in her chair, a smug smile playing on her lips.

“It's a simple question. Why are you acting as though I've asked you to reveal a state secret?”

“Perhaps because you never ask questions without a reason.”

She placed a hand against her chest, pretending to be offended.

“I'm trying to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“With your little problem.”

I frowned. “What problem?”

She tilted her head, studying me with an expression that made my skin crawl.

“Your feelings for Adrian.”

My heart stumbled, but I refused to let it show.

“What feelings?”

Sophie laughed softly. “Oh, please. Do you really expect me to believe you don't have a crush on him?”

I folded my arms.

“You seem awfully interested in who I do or don't like. Don't you have anything better to do?”

Her smile faltered for a second before returning.

“So you admit there's someone you like?”

“I didn't say that.”

“But you didn't deny it either.”

I stared at her, already regretting that I had allowed the conversation to continue.

“You know what, Sophie? Believe whatever you want. My personal life is none of your business.”

Her expression hardened.

“Adrian is my business.”

“Is he?” I asked. “Because the last time I checked, Adrian was perfectly capable of deciding who he wanted in his life without you speaking for him.”

Her eyes widened.

For a brief moment, the mask slipped. I saw the anger beneath her carefully arranged innocence, the resentment she had spent years hiding whenever Adrian was around.

Then she leaned forward.

“Don't get too comfortable, Elena. Adrian and I have known each other since childhood. We have a history you'll never understand. You might live in this house, but that doesn't mean you belong in every part of his life.”

The words stung, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing it.

“Then why are you so worried about me?”

“I'm not worried about you.”

“Then stop acting like you have something to prove.”

Sophie stood, her chair scraping against the floor.

“You think you're clever, don't you? You stand there pretending not to care, but everyone can see the way you look at him.”

I laughed, though there was no humor in it.

“Everyone? Or just you?”

“Don't play games with me.”

“I'm not. You're the one who keeps bringing up Adrian. If you're so confident about your place in his life, why do you care so much about mine?”

Her face flushed.

“Because I won't stand by and watch you make a fool of yourself!”

I stared at her for a moment.

“Then don't watch.”

She opened her mouth, but I continued before she could interrupt.

“I have enough to worry about without you inventing stories about me. If you think I have feelings for Adrian, that's your assumption. It doesn't make it true.”

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

But I would rather swallow it than hand Sophie a weapon she could use against me.

She searched my face, looking for a crack in my composure.

“Fine,” she said at last. “Keep pretending. But don't come crying to me when you realize that Adrian will never look at you the way he looks at me.”

My fingers curled into my palms.

I wanted to tell her that I had never asked Adrian to look at me in any particular way. I wanted to tell her that she had no idea what it felt like to love someone silently, to cherish the smallest kindness from him while pretending it meant nothing.

Instead, I lifted my chin.

“You should be more concerned about whether he truly wants you than about who you think wants him.”

Her expression changed instantly.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“You have some nerve!”

“And you have a habit of mistaking my silence for weakness.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then Sophie let out a cold laugh.

“You'll regret speaking to me like this.”

“Maybe. But at least I'll regret standing up for myself instead of regretting every word I never said.”

I turned toward the doorway.

“Don't walk away from me!” she snapped.

I stopped and glanced back.

“I'm not walking away from you, Sophie. I'm walking away from this ridiculous conversation.”

I left before she could respond.

Behind me, I heard the scrape of her chair against the floor.

“You'll regret this, Elena!”

I didn't turn around.