Chapter 13

Sophia woke to the sound of coffee brewing and the smell of something that definitely wasn't pizza. Sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling windows of Ethan's penthouse, and for a moment, she forgot where she was. Then the events of the previous evening came flooding back the party, the scrutiny, the careful dance of social politics she'd somehow managed to navigate.

She padded to the kitchen in one of Ethan's shirts, finding him standing at the stove in nothing but pajama pants, his hair still mussed from sleep. He was making eggs Benedict, of all things, with the kind of precision that suggested he'd done it many times before.

"Well," she said, settling onto one of the bar stools, "this is a far cry from our pizza debriefing."

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted, not turning around. "So I figured I'd make us a proper breakfast. Besides, after last night, I thought you might want something a little more... substantial."

"Substantial?"

"Comforting. Real. Something that doesn't require us to perform or pretend or worry about using the right fork."

She watched him work, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way he moved with restless energy. "You're thinking about something."

"I'm thinking about a lot of things."

"Want to share?"

He plated the eggs with restaurant-quality precision, then finally turned to face her. "I got a call this morning. From my assistant. Apparently, our appearance at the party made quite an impression."

"Good impression or bad impression?"

"Both, depending on who you ask." He slid a plate across the counter to her. "The good news is that Jessica Chen's piece is going to be very flattering. She loved your honesty about finding it overwhelming, said it made you relatable."

"And the bad news?"

"Margaret Ashford's circle is... less enthusiastic. Apparently, there's some concern about your 'suitability' for the role of Mrs. Ethan Blackwell."

Sophia felt her stomach clench, though she wasn't sure if it was from nerves or anger. "My suitability?"

"Their words, not mine. Something about your background, your work, your... how did they put it... 'inability to understand the responsibilities that come with the position.'"

"The position?" She set down her fork harder than necessary. "What position? I'm marrying you, not running for office."

"In their world, it's the same thing. When you marry someone like me, you're expected to take on certain roles. Charitable boards, social events, fundraising. You become part of a system."

"A system I want no part of."

"I know. That's what I told my assistant when she suggested we might want to consider some media training for you."

"Media training?"

"To help you navigate interviews, public appearances, that sort of thing. To help you understand what to say and what not to say."

Sophia stared at him, a cold realization settling in her chest. "You're considering it."

"I'm considering what's best for both of us."

"No, you're considering what's best for your business. What's best for your reputation. What's best for maintaining your place in that world we were in last night."

"That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" She stood up, pacing to the window. The city spread out below them, millions of people going about their lives, completely unaware of the drama playing out in penthouses and society pages. "Ethan, I love you. I want to build a life with you. But I won't be remade into someone else's image of what I should be."

"I'm not asking you to be remade."

"Aren't you? Media training, learning to navigate social politics, understanding my 'responsibilities'? That sounds like remaking to me."

He was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice was careful. "What if I told you that I've been thinking about stepping back from some of this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if we built something different? Something that doesn't require us to perform for people who will never really accept us anyway?"

She turned to face him, studying his expression. "You're serious."

"I'm serious. I've been serious about it for weeks now, actually. Last night just confirmed what I've been thinking."

"Which is?"

"That I've been chasing the wrong kind of success. I've been trying to prove myself to people whose approval isn't worth having."

"And what would stepping back look like?"

"I don't know yet. That's what I want to figure out. With you."

Sophia felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. "Tell me about your mother."

The change of subject seemed to surprise him. "What about her?"

"You said everything good about you comes from her. What would she think about all this?"

Ethan was quiet for a long moment, his hands wrapped around his coffee cup. "She would hate it. The performance, the pretense, the way people like Margaret Ashford think they can judge someone's worth based on their bank account or their pedigree."

"What was she like?"

"She was... real. Authentic. She worked two jobs to keep us afloat after my father died, but she never complained. She never made me feel like we were lacking anything, even when we were eating peanut butter sandwiches for dinner because that's all we could afford."

"She sounds amazing."

"She was. She used to say that the measure of a person isn't what they have, but what they do with what they've been given. She would have loved your work, Sophia. She would have understood why you can't just abandon it to play society wife."

"And she would have wanted you to be happy."

"She would have wanted me to be myself. The real me, not the version of me that I think other people want to see."

Sophia moved back to the counter, reaching across to take his hand. "So what's the real you want?"

"I want to build something meaningful. I want to use my resources to make a difference, not just to make more money. I want to wake up every morning knowing that what I'm doing matters."

"And I want to keep helping families. I want to keep fighting for people who don't have anyone else fighting for them."

"So let's do that. Let's build something together that honors both of those things."

"What about Harrison? What about your business? You can't just walk away from everything you've built."

"I'm not talking about walking away. I'm talking about evolving. About using what I've built as a foundation for something bigger."

"Like what?"

"Like a foundation. A real one, not just a tax write-off. Something that addresses the root causes of the problems you see every day in your work."

Sophia felt her heart quicken. "You're talking about systemic change."

"I'm talking about using privilege and resources to actually help people, instead of just talking about it at charity galas."

"That's... that's amazing. But it's also huge. It would mean completely changing how you operate."

"I know. And it's scary as hell. But I think it's what I'm supposed to do. What we're supposed to do."

"We?"

"If you want to be part of it. If you want to help me figure out how to do this right."

Sophia felt tears prick her eyes. "You want me to help you build a foundation?"

"I want you to help me build everything. The foundation, a life, a future that actually means something."

"Even if it means walking away from some of the connections you've spent years building?"

"Especially then. Because those connections haven't made me happy, Sophia. They've made me successful by other people's standards, but they haven't made me happy."

"And I make you happy?"

"You make me myself. Which is the same thing, I think."

She leaned across the counter and kissed him, tasting coffee and possibility and the promise of a future that felt real in a way that nothing had in a long time.

"Okay," she said when they broke apart.

"Okay?"

"Let's build something together. Let's figure out how to use what you have to address what I see every day. Let's create something that would make your mother proud."

"And your parents?"

"My parents are going to love you no matter what. But they're going to love you even more when they see that you want to help people."

"When do I get to meet them?"

"Soon. But first, we have to figure out how to tell Harrison about this plan of yours. Because something tells me he's not going to be thrilled about his protégé becoming a social activist."

"Let me worry about Harrison."

"Are you sure? Because last night, it seemed like his approval still matters to you."

Ethan considered this. "His approval used to matter to me because I thought it meant I was successful. But I'm starting to realize that his version of success isn't mine."

"What if he doesn't understand?"

"Then he doesn't understand. But I can't keep living my life trying to meet his expectations."

"What about Isabella?"

"What about her?"

"She's going to be your stepmother. That's going to be... complicated."

"Isabella made her choice. She chose security over love, status over authenticity. I can't save her from that, and I can't let her choice affect mine."

"Do you think she's happy?"

"I think she's comfortable. Which might be enough for her. But it wouldn't be enough for me."

"And what about us? What about our engagement, our wedding, all of this?"

"What about it?"

"I mean, if we're building something new, if we're stepping back from that world, what does that mean for us?"

"It means we get to do things our way. We get to have the wedding we want, not the wedding that's expected of us. We get to build the life we want, not the life that other people think we should have."

"I want a small wedding."

"I want a real wedding. With people who actually care about us, not people who just want to be seen."

"I want to keep working."

"I want you to keep working. I want to support your work, not replace it."

"I want to meet your mother."

He smiled, though his eyes were sad. "I want that too. But since we can't, I'll just have to make sure you know her through me."

"I'd like that."

"And I'd like to meet your parents. Soon."

"They're going to interrogate you, you know. My father's going to want to know your intentions, and my mother's going to want to know if you can cook."

"I can cook. And my intentions are to love you for the rest of my life."

"Good answers."

"I've been practicing."

She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. "So what do we do now?"

"Now we finish breakfast, and then we start planning. We figure out what this foundation is going to look like, how we're going to structure it, what issues we want to focus on."

"And then?"

"Then we tell the world that we're doing things our way. That we're building something real instead of just playing along with their games."

"That's going to ruffle some feathers."

"Let them be ruffled. The people who matter will understand. The people who don't understand don't matter."

"When did you become so wise?"

"When I fell in love with a social worker who reminded me what actually matters."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I'm counting on it."

As they finished breakfast and began sketching out plans on napkins, Sophia felt a sense of excitement she hadn't experienced in years. This was what she'd always wanted a chance to make a real difference, to address problems at their source instead of just treating the symptoms.

"Can I ask you something?" she said as they worked.

"Anything."

"Are you doing this for me? Because if you are, I need you to know that I'd love you either way. I'd figure out how to navigate that world if it meant being with you."

"I'm doing this for us. But mostly, I'm doing this for me. Because I can't keep pretending to be someone I'm not, and I can't keep chasing approval from people who will never really accept me anyway."

"And you're sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Then let's do it. Let's build something amazing."

"Together?"

"Always together."

As they worked through the morning, sketching out dreams and possibilities, Sophia felt like they were doing more than just planning a foundation. They were planning a life a real life, built on shared values and genuine connection rather than social expectations and performance.

The engagement party was over, but their real engagement was just beginning. And for the first time since this whole charade started, it felt completely real.