Page 14 of Curvy Wives of Willow Creek 5-8

With that, she turns around, offers a quick, teary-eyed apology, and bolts out the door.

It all happens so fast that I can barely process it. As a cop, I know standing still can be a fatal mistake. But right now, it feels like the only viable option.

I need to let her go, to believe that it's the right thing to do. For me, for Lucy. For our new life here in Willow Creek.

Sophie's hasty departure leaves a silence that is filled with an emptiness I'm all too familiar with.

And, for now, I'm left standing in my doorway, my mind echoing with the specter of what could have been but never will.

Chapter 7 - Sophie

My heart feels like shattered glass, jagged and sharp, piercing through my chest with each pounding beat. My legs throb in rhythm with the sorrow, my sneakers slapping against the pavement.

The street lights are blurring into long streaks as tears cloud my vision, the dampness on my cheeks cooling in the night's air.

I've spent my whole life, it seems, believing in fairytales, hoping that someday I'd find a love story like those in books or movies. But now, running away from Damien's house, from the love I'd thought was budding between us, I feel the naivety of those hopes.

Fantasy can't just morph into reality because I wish it, no matter how fervently. That’s what makes me so angry. Damien didn't even want to try, didn't want to give us a chance.

And the worst part is that I can understand why. His wife left him, and his daughter, sweet little Lucy, became his world. How could he risk bringing upheaval into her life again? But doesn't he deserve love too?

I force myself to keep going, my breath coming in ragged gasps, a silent scream building in my chest. Everything happened so fast.

I met him, fainted into his arms, and fell...hard. It seems surreal now, like a dream. No, a nightmare, one I wish desperately to wake up from.

I skid to a stop, my legs finally protesting too much and my head throbbing. I know I should go home, shower and sleep.

Tomorrow is another day, and maybe I'll find a new extra job quickly. Perhaps I can forget about Damien, and Lucy, faster than I expect.

But not tonight. Tonight, I need something more than the sterile solitude of my bedroom. I need my friends and a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

With a sigh, I steer toward Ivy's coffee shop, the familiar red door beckoning. It's late, and I can see the light seeping through the door cracks. Ivy, my friend and boss, is a night owl, only working nights.

I rub my arms against the chill, trying to restore warmth to my frozen limbs before I reach the door.

I quickly clean my tear-stained cheeks, taking a deep breath before knocking. The hollow echo feels like an affirmation - yes, Sophie, you're strong enough to handle this. You'll get through it.

And, in that moment, I let myself believe it. Even if just for tonight.

I wait a few seconds in the cold, the chill cutting through my blouse. The door creaks open, and Ivy stands there, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Sophie? What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice slightly husky from disuse. "You're not on the schedule tonight."

I swallow the lump in my throat to keep the hot prickle of tears at bay. Ivy doesn't deserve this - my emotional fallout. But seeing her, knowing her own love story, I can't help but crumble.

She met Brock during a storm, spending the night at his cabin. That's the kind of love story I want. Why can't I have that? Don't I deserve it?

Tears start falling again, unbidden and uncontrollable. Ivy, seeing my distress, moves closer. She wraps her arms around me in what could pass as a hug - for Ivy.

It's more of a gentle tap on the back, but I know it's her version of showing she cares. I lean into it, wrapping my arms tightly around her, my tears dampening her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, my voice choked.

"Soph, it's okay," she says, her voice soft. "Let's go inside. It's too cold out here."

I nod, pulling away from Ivy and wiping my face. I follow her into the coffee shop to a table in an isolated corner.

The place is almost empty, only one other customer lost in their own world. It's still too early for the usual crowd, those night owls who find comfort in this warm, cozy sanctuary.

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