Chapter 3

Sophia placed the last wine glass on the dining table, taking a half-step back to inspect the arrangement.

The beef had just come out of the pan, its surface still beautifully glossy. Roasted vegetables and mashed potatoes were served in separate white porcelain dishes. The cake had been moved to the center of the table, flanked by three lit taper candles.

"Does this look okay?" she asked.

I glanced up. "It's perfect. I'll clean up the rest."

"Let me," she said, picking up an empty plate. "You're the birthday girl today. You should sit down and rest."

Outside, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke the quiet.

Sophia grabbed her coat draped over the back of a chair. I turned off the harsh main light in the kitchen, leaving only the soft glow of the chandelier above the dining room.

By the time the key slid into the lock, Sophia was already standing near the foyer.

Benjamin pushed the door open, tracking in a gust of cold, damp wind. His shirt collar was undone, and he was holding his phone, looking as though he had just wrapped up a work call.

"Send me the revised quote tomorrow," he said, before finally noticing the extra person in the room.

His gaze bypassed me entirely, landing on Sophia before sweeping over the fully decorated dining table. The exhaustion on his face slowly receded, replaced by a flicker of genuine surprise.

"Sophia?"

Sophia pulled her coat a little tighter. "I came to drop off a gift for Emma and helped her prep dinner while I was at it."

Benjamin's eyes fell on the food laid out on the table and her rolled-up sleeves. His tone sounded almost solicitous. "That’s a lot of work for you. Honestly, you should have just let Emma handle all this. There was no need for you to go out of your way to stay and help."

"I asked her to stay," I said, placing a napkin by a plate.

"I know." Benjamin looked at me, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice. "It's your birthday, and you can't even prep your own dinner without someone doing it for you. Emma, since when did you become incapable of handling even the most trivial tasks?"

Sophia frowned. "I offered to help with dinner."

"I'm not blaming you," Benjamin immediately softened his tone. "I just think you already got her a gift, so you should have left the rest up to her."

Clearly wanting no part in this any longer, Sophia picked up her coat and forced a polite smile at me. "You two should have some time to yourselves tonight. I'll head out."

She turned toward the door.

"Wait."

Benjamin's voice rang out.

Sophia stopped, her hand resting on the doorknob.

"Stay tonight," he said. "Since you're already here, you might as well stay for dinner. Actually, there are a few things I’d like to make clear face-to-face."

"If this is about work, we can talk about it at the office tomorrow."

"It's not about work."

Benjamin walked over to the dining table and pulled out a chair, though his gaze never left her.

Sophia's expression stiffened slightly.

Taking her silence for shyness, Benjamin let a confident smirk touch the corners of his mouth.

"Sit down. Emma won't mind."

Watching him, a sense of foreboding tightened in my chest. He had clearly rehearsed exactly what he was going to say on his drive home, even scripting Sophia’s reactions for her in his head.

Sophia didn't sit down. She simply stood by the door.

Benjamin poured himself a half-glass of wine before finally turning his attention back to me. "I was late today because I went to see a lawyer."

"A lawyer for what?"

"To handle our divorce."

That word dropped into the center of the table, as glaring and harsh as the candles on the cake.

I looked at him.

"Don't give me that look." Benjamin leaned back in his chair, his tone as detached as if he were discussing a corporate merger. "We both know this marriage has run its course. Dragging it out won't do either of us any good."

"When did you decide this?" I asked.

"It wasn't a sudden decision." He took a sip of his wine. "I've been thinking about this for a long time. I just didn't want things to get ugly before."

"So why are you willing to make it ugly today?"

"Because I finally see things clearly." He glanced over the dining table, a hint of mockery curling his lip. "Out there, I’m dealing with clients, investors, and competitors. I'm moving forward every single day, but you? You're stagnant. You're trapped in this house. Aside from cooking, cleaning, and managing petty chores, you and I have absolutely nothing in common anymore."

I stared at the cake. "So you decided to end our marriage?"

"It's the responsible thing to do for both of us," he said. "My company is expanding. I need a partner who can keep up with me and understand my world, not someone who just waits for me to come home."

Sophia finally stepped closer. "Benjamin, there was no need to bring this up today."

"I had to." He looked at her, his eyes carrying an almost zealous expectation. "Especially since you're here."

I looked at Sophia, and suddenly, Benjamin's angle clicked into place.

He was utterly delusional. He actually believed Sophia had joined his company because she was in love with him.

Any spark of anger inside me was instantly snuffed out, replaced by a sudden urge to laugh.

"Don't play dumb." Benjamin chuckled, pointing a finger at Sophia. "She's young, beautiful, and career-driven. She understands how my mind works. She can discuss my company's future with me and help me make decisions when I'm overwhelmed. And you? You just spin in circles around a kitchen. Without me, you are nothing."

Those words weren't unfamiliar. Past iterations had been hidden behind thin jokes, but tonight, he was laying them out plainly, word by word, right in front of Sophia.

"Are you done?" I asked.

"Not yet." Benjamin pulled a document from his briefcase and slapped it on the table. "I had my lawyer draw up the papers. The house goes to me, and the company's assets have nothing to do with you. You can take your personal belongings, and I'll give you a lump sum for living expenses—enough for you to start over."

"Start over?" I eyed the document. "You've even mapped out how I'm supposed to live."

"It's the most realistic outcome." His tone was firm. "You have no income, and you don't have your studio anymore. The least I can do is offer you a dignified exit."

I stared at the divorce papers. "You say I have no studio. Does that mean you actually remember I used to have one?"

Benjamin's expression paused for a fraction of a second. "Of course I do."

"Then why did you say I have nothing?"

"I'm talking about now." He frowned impatiently. "You haven't touched the industry in three years. What could you possibly do? Design isn't playing house; you leave the market for too long, and everyone forgets you even exist. Don't start crying and listing grievances about how you sacrificed your studio for me and how 'cruel' I am—wake up, Emma. Even without me, your little studio wouldn't have survived much longer. You would have ended up a housewife regardless. You're just not as talented as you think you are."

Benjamin held my gaze. "Sign it, Emma."

He pushed the papers closer to me, then turned back to Sophia, his voice dropping into a sudden, gentle cadence.

"As for you, you don't need to hold back anymore," he said softly. "I know how you feel about me, and I know my marriage to Emma was always a sticking point for you. Well, it's over now. All the obstacles are gone."

Sophia looked utterly paralyzed, but I finally couldn't hold it back anymore—I laughed out loud.

Benjamin had made the exact same mistake I once made: assuming a young, beautiful woman hovering around a married man was only doing it to be his mistress.

He still had no idea how wildly he had miscalculated.

"I'm telling you, I know how you feel," Benjamin said, gazing at her with absolute self-assurance, as if he had already made her choices for her. "You don't need to hide anymore. Once the divorce is finalized, we can officially begin."

The dining room was so quiet that the only sound was the clinking of ice against glass.

I watched Sophia. Her face cycled from shock to sheer disbelief, before settling into an unrestrained, simmering rage.

Yet, Benjamin was still waiting for her breathless response, even going as far as to extend his hand toward her.

"Sophia, come here. You should know I won't make you wait much longer."

He looked like a lovesick soap opera leading man.

"Benjamin," she said, enunciating every single syllable.

"Yes?"

I poured myself a fresh glass of red wine, using the crystal rim to hide my widening smile. Benjamin's sheer delusion had successfully turned tonight's tragic divorce into a brilliant comedy.

Sophia was trembling with sheer rage.

She raised her hand sharply and slapped him hard across the face.