Chapter 8: Shattered Trust

The kitchen smelled of burnt toast and fresh coffee when I finally dragged myself downstairs Tuesday morning. My body felt heavy, like gravity had doubled overnight. Every step reminded me of Luca his weight pinning me to the desk, his breath on my neck, the way he’d whispered “I love you” like a prayer and a curse in the same sentence.

Sofia was already there, leaning against the counter, scrolling her phone with one hand while stirring sugar into her mug with the other. She looked up when I entered. Smiled. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Morning, ghost girl,” she said. “You look like you got hit by a truck.”

I forced a laugh. “Slept weird.”

“Again?” She tilted her head. “You’ve been ‘sleeping weird’ since the party. What’s going on, Val?”

My stomach dropped. “Nothing. Just… stressed about work.”

She set her phone down. Slowly. Deliberately.

“Work,” she repeated. “Right.”

I poured coffee. Kept my back to her. Hands shaking enough that the pot clinked against the mug.

She didn’t move. Just watched.

“You know,” she said quietly, “I’m not stupid.”

I froze.

“I’ve known you since we were twelve. I know when you’re lying. And I know when my dad is lying too.”

Coffee sloshed over the rim. Hot liquid burned my fingers. I didn’t flinch.

“Sofia”

“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “Just… don’t.”

I turned.

She was crying. Silent tears tracking down her cheeks. Mascara smudged. Eyes red.

“I heard you,” she whispered. “Last night. In the study. You thought I was asleep. But I couldn’t sleep. I came down for water and… I heard him say it. ‘I love you.’ And you said it back.”

The mug slipped from my fingers. Shattered on the tile. Brown liquid spread like blood.

Sofia flinched at the sound but didn’t look away.

“I stood there,” she continued, voice trembling. “In the hallway. Listening to my best friend and my father tell each other they love each other. Like it was normal. Like I wasn’t even in the house.”

“Sofia, I”

“How long?” she asked. “How long have you been fucking my dad behind my back?”

The word hit like a slap.

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

“Since the party?” she guessed. “Or before? Was it happening the whole time I thought we were just hanging out? When I told you how much I loved having you here? When I said you were like the sister I never had?”

Tears burned my own eyes. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” she shouted. Voice breaking. “Tell me! Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you waited until I trusted you completely, then stabbed me in the back. With my own father.”

I stepped forward. “Sofia, please”

“Don’t touch me.” She backed up. Hit the counter. “Don’t you dare.”

The front door opened.

Luca walked in. Suit jacket slung over his shoulder. Keys in hand. He stopped dead when he saw us.

Sofia’s head whipped toward him.

“You,” she said. Voice low. Dangerous. “You knew I was home. You knew I could hear. And you still”

Luca’s face drained of color. “Sofia”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t say my name like that. Like you care.”

He dropped his keys on the counter. Slowly. Like he was afraid any sudden movement would make her bolt.

“I do care,” he said quietly. “More than anything.”

She laughed harsh, broken. “You care so much you decided to sleep with my best friend? In our house? While I was asleep upstairs?”

Luca closed his eyes. “It wasn’t planned. It just”

“‘Just happened’?” she finished. “Save it. I’ve heard that line in every bad movie. It doesn’t make it less disgusting.”

I stepped between them. “This is my fault. I”

Sofia’s gaze snapped to me. “Don’t you dare take the blame for him. He’s the adult. He’s my father. He’s supposed to protect me. Not… not this.”

Luca moved forward. “Sofia, listen”

“No.” She held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I want to know how long you’ve been lying to me. Both of you.”

Luca exhaled. “It started after the party. The night you turned twenty-one.”

She stared at him. “Three days. You waited three days after my birthday to start fucking my best friend.”

The word again. Sharp. Ugly.

Luca flinched.

Sofia laughed again hollow. “God. I feel sick.”

She pushed past me. Grabbed her keys from the hook.

“Sofia ” Luca reached for her.

She jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”

She looked at me then. Really looked. Eyes full of betrayal. Hurt so deep it looked physical.

“I trusted you,” she whispered. “More than anyone. And you took the one person I thought would never hurt me. You took him. And you let him take you.”

Tears streamed down her face now. Unchecked.

“I hate you,” she said. Voice breaking. “I hate both of you.”

She turned. Ran out the door.

The slam echoed through the house.

Luca and I stood frozen in the wreckage of spilled coffee and broken ceramic.

He sank onto a stool. Head in his hands.

I stayed standing. Legs shaking.

“She’s gone,” I whispered.

“She’ll come back,” he said. But he didn’t sound convinced.

I looked at him. At the man I loved. The man who’d just lost his daughter because of me.

“We did this,” I said.

He nodded. Slowly.

“We did.”

Silence stretched. Heavy. Suffocating.

Then he lifted his head. Eyes red. Voice hoarse.

“I’m not sorry I love you,” he said. “I’m sorry we hurt her. I’m sorry we weren’t strong enough to stop. But I’m not sorry for you.”

I crossed to him. Sank to my knees between his legs. Took his face in my hands.

“Neither am I,” I whispered.

He pulled me up. Into his lap. Held me like I was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

We sat there on the kitchen floor. Surrounded by broken glass and spilled secrets.

Waiting for the fallout.

Waiting for Sofia to come home.

Knowing she might never forgive us.

Knowing we might never forgive ourselves.

But still holding on.

Because even in the ruin…

We couldn’t let go.