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Just as Sophia was saying goodbye to Andrew Yeats at the hospital, she got a message from Hudson.
Hudson told her that the medicine she’d put up for auction a few days ago had cleared, and after the handling fees and taxes were deducted, the money was now in her account.
He also mentioned that a new batch of medicinal herbs had just arrived at the pharmaceutical research institute this afternoon and asked if she’d like to check it out.
Sophia glanced at the time–there were still two hours before her grandfather’s curfew, so she’d have enough time to swing by.
At the mention of “friend,” Tristan narrowed his eyes. “The guy who picked you up last time… Was it that little punk?”
Sophia nodded.
Tristan’s expression darkened instantly, a deep frown forming between his brows.
Sophia looked at his gloomy face and blinked, a little surprised. “Tristan, are you jealous again?”
What was this guy raise on? He gets jealous every other second. She thought with a smirk.
Tristan lowered his hazel eyes, his gaze sharp as he shot her a sideways glance. “I’m your fiancé. Shouldn’t I be jealous?”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “He’s just a little brother.”
“Right. A grown–up little brother,” Tristan shot back with a soft grunt.
Sophia stared at him, exasperated, “You’re so childish.”
Faced with his immaturity, Sophia couldn’t help but shake her head. “Fine, then. You can just tag along.”
After all, Tristan was the biggest investor in her pharmaceutical research institute. The new batch of herbs that had just arrived that afternoon was thanks to the Yeats family’s resources.
It wasn’t unusual for him, as the largest investor, to drop by the institute for a quick inspection.
The elevator dinged as it reached the first floor, and the door slid open. Sophia tugged Tristan toward it, but he didn’t budge.
She shot him an exasperated glance, “What are you up to now?”
Tristan didn’t speak up. He raised an eyebrow playfully, his ethereal face carrying a hint of amusement.
Sophia blinked, confusedly, and then Tristan turned his gaze to Gary, who, clearly understanding the unspoken message, wisely stepped aside to stand by the elevator.
The VIP passage had several levels, and this elevator had practically become the Yeats Family’s private access since Tristan’s grandfather was hospitalized.
With that in mind, holding the elevator door wouldn’t inconvenience any other VIP patients or their families.
“Well, my fiancée is a superwoman,” Tristan said, his deep, lazy voice carrying a light chuckle. “I should be the man behind her, not a burden holding her back.”
“Just text me when you arrive, and give me a call later when you’re heading home, and I’ll be fine.” He added.
Sophia narrowed her eyes at him “You’re not making that jealot face anymore?”
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Tristan smirked. His handsome, aloof face came into her space. He’s just a little kid. What’s there to be jealous about?”
His breath brushed her cheek, and the clean scent of wood and musk surrounded her.
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Sophia couldn’t help but notice something odd about his tone. His posture seemed a little too deliberate, almost like he was trying to seduce her with his looks.
But, seeing the smile in his eyes, she didn’t read too much into i “Okay. I’ll go ahead,” she nodded and said. “I’ll text you later.”
Tristan lowered his gaze, his eyes fixed on the hand he was holding–the soft, smooth skin, the delicate curve of her fingers. A brief flicker of something passed through his eyes.
He slowly unclenched his fist, letting go of her hand completely. His fingers lingered in the air for a moment, as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go.
Sophia stepped out of the elevator, pausing to glance back at him. She caught his gaze for a beat, then turned to walk toward the hospital entrance.
Gary watched her disappear into the crowd, then slowly turned and stepped back into the elevator.
The doors slid shut with a quiet hiss, and the elevator began its descent to the basement. But Tristan didn’t move. He just stood there, his posture rigid, his eyes dark and intense.
Gary, feeling the shift in the air, turned to face him. The silence between them was thick, suffocating, as if the entire elevator were holding its breath.
The moment Sophia was out of sight, Tristan’s expression darkened further, and the pressure in the elevator seemed to build.
Gary shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Tristan’s mood almost palpable. “Tristan,” he chimed in. “You said you weren’t jealous, didn’t you?”
He didn’t expect that as soon as Sophia left, Tristan would pull that face–seriously, it was enough to scare the crap out of
anyone.
Tristan’s brows were drawn together, his whole demeanor radiating a gloomy, unsettling vibe. His gaze stayed fixed downward, and he didn’t answer Gary’s question.
There was no denying the jealousy gnawing at him. He wanted to possess Sophia, to keep her all to himself, as much as possible.
But deep down, he knew the truth: Sophia saw Hudson Myers as nothing more than a younger brother. Even though the way that guy looked at her was… off.
From the moment Hudson started scheming to win her over, Tristan knew that a girl like Sophia could never truly belong to just one person.
Sophia was made to shine. She wasn’t meant to have her world—or her life–revolve around him.
He loved her. But that love couldn’t be an excuse to keep her tethered to him.
If she was trapped in her own life, she wouldn’t be the same person anymore. There’d be no future for them, no chance at
all
Of course Tristan could follow her around like a lost puppy, flaunt his love, and put on a show of staking his claim in front of Hudson, but he wasn’t about to put her in a box.
As much as the jealousy churned inside him, he knew he had to use above it just like he said he wanted to be the man who
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had her back, not the one holding her down.
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Sophia stepped out of State Hospital, but Hudson was nowhere in sight. She shot him a quick text, and he replied he was about fifteen minutes away.
She wasn’t in the mood to wait around, so she walked to an intersection she knew Hudson had to pass through.
It was just behind the State Hospital, and since it was already evening, the streets were pretty empty, with only a few dim streetlights flickering on the pavement.
A cool breeze swept by as she stood there, feeling a little bored. She pulled out her phone, ready to ask Averie about the new talent she’d been eyeing.
But just as her finger was about to touch the screen, the screech of brakes cut through the stillness, and a blue luxury car skidded to a stop right in front of her.
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She blinked, squinting at the car. It looked way too familiar. She’d been with Ethan for three years, and she’d recognize that car anywhere.
Sure enough, the window rolled down, revealing Ethan’s cold, impassive face. The streetlights hit him in a way that made him look even more severe, his dark eyes staring at her like he was trying to read her every thought.
Sophia frowned. What was he doing here?’
But that wasn’t the only thing that caught her attention. Ethan’s face was flushed with an unnatural red, his eyes a little glassy and unfocused. He’d clearly been drinking.
Drinking and driving was one thing, but driving like this? He was asking for trouble.
“Sophia.” Ethan’s voice broke through the quiet night, heavy with something unspoken. He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze almost desperate.
Sophia didn’t flinch. She put her phone away, her eyebrows raised slightly. “Yes?”
The night breeze ruffled her dark, wavy hair, brushing it over her shoulders, giving Ethan a clear view of her face.
She was delicate and stunning, but there was unmistakable coolness in her eyes. The kind of coldness that hit him like a bucket of ice water.
Ethan felt it deep in his gut, like he was sinking into a frozen abyss. His already bloodshot eyes burned even more, but not from alcohol
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, he thought to himself.
Sophia’s eyes that used to be filled with affection now felt distant–like he was a stranger.
She should’ve been happy to see him. She should’ve rushed to him, throwing her arms around him like she used to. She was supposed to love him–he was sure of it
Was it because the people around her were too good? Ethan’s mind was racing. Had she forgotten about him? Had she stopped loving lum?
Ethan’s eyes were dark, like he was drowning in them. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, swallowing hard before his voice came out rough.
“Sophia, I just came from the hospital,” he said. There was a bite his tone, like he was hurt.
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Sophia shrugged, “So what? None of my business.”
“I passed out from a stomachache. Ended up in the hospital again.” Ethan dragged the words out, like he wanted them to sink in. He stared at her face, searching for some sign she cared,
It wasn’t the first time he’d been hospitalized since they broke up But this time? It was worse. A lot worse.
But when she saw Mary return alone, her hopes crumbled. The beart she’d been holding onto finally sank.
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Lying in that hospital bed, his body aching like hell. All he could hear was that phone call–the one where Sophia was talking
to Tristan.
It was so easy, so natural between them. And it stabbed him. Every word felt like a needle, ripping at his chest. That pain in his stomach? It didn’t even come close.
Ethan couldn’t shake the thought–if Sophia was still with him, none of this mess would’ve happened. He wouldn’t be lying in some sterile hospital bed, nursing his own mistakes. Everything was fine before.
It was not like he’d never had other women, or that he hadn’t said worse
things to Sophia before. He was clear about this.
But he didn’t understand what was different this time. Why was she no longer chasing him, begging for his attention like she used to? He was confused.
The more Ethan thought, the more flustered he got. Panic crept in, and suddenly it felt like he was losing something that really mattered.
He couldn’t just lie there anymore. His heart was racing. He threw the covers off, yanked the needle out, and stormed out of the hospital.
He headed straight for the private room where he’d been partying with his friends before all this stomachache started.
Desperate to drown the pain, he grabbed a bottle and poured himself drink after drink, hoping the alcohol would numb his thoughts, stop him from thinking about Sophia.
But the more he drank, the clearer her voice became in his head her conversation with Tristan Yeats, that intimacy in her
tone.
He was getting worse. The more he drank, the angrier, the more twisted inside.
He couldn’t take it anymore. In a burst of rage, he smashed the bottle against the wall, the sound echoing through the room. Then, he remembered her saying something about the “hospital on the phone.
Without another thought, he stumbled into his car, ignoring the alcohol in his breath, and drove straight to State Hospital.
He didn’t care if it had a thousand exits, or whether she’d come by car. He stood there at the gate, waiting for three hours like
some kind of idiot.
Gloria and Chloe kept calling, but he just turned off his phone. His eyes were fixed on the hospital gates.
He stayed there, waiting for Sophia, his own gesture almost pathetic, but somehow it moved him. He really felt like he was the one being wronged, like he was the one who deserved sympathy.
But as he finally saw her, and caught that look in her eyes–so cold, so indifferent–it hit him.
All that frustration from waiting for hours, the anger from being in the hospital twice for this stomach pain, and the fact that she hadn’t even bothered to check on him or care about how he was doing–it all came crashing down in that instant.
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Chapter 143
Sophia shrugged, “So what? None of my business.”
“I passed out from a stomachache. Ended up in the hospital again.” Ethan dragged the words out, like he wanted them to sink in. He stared at her face, searching for some sign she cared,
It wasn’t the first time he’d been hospitalized since they broke up But this time? It was worse. A lot worse.
But when she saw Mary return alone, her hopes crumbled. The heart she’d been holding onto finally sank.
Lying in that hospital bed, his body aching like hell. All he could hear was that phone call–the one where Sophia was talking to Tristan.
It was so easy, so natural between them. And it stabbed him. Every word felt like a needle, ripping at his chest. That pain in his stomach? It didn’t even come close.
Ethan couldn’t shake the thought–if Sophia was still with him, none of this mess would’ve happened. He wouldn’t be lying in some sterile hospital bed, nursing his own mistakes. Everything was fine before.
It was not like he’d never had other women, or that he hadn’t said worse things to Sophia before. He was clear about this.
But he didn’t understand what was different this time. Why was she no longer chasing him, begging for his attention like she used to? He was confused.
The more Ethan thought, the more flustered he got. Panic crept in, and suddenly it felt like he was losing something that really mattered.
He couldn’t just lie there anymore. His heart was racing. He threw the covers off, yanked the needle out, and stormed out of the hospital.
He headed straight for the private room where he’d been partying with his friends before all this stomachache started. Desperate to drown the pain, he grabbed a bottle and poured himself drink after drink, hoping the alcohol would numb his thoughts, stop him from thinking about Sophia.
But the more he drank, the clearer her voice became in his head her conversation with Tristan Yeats, that intimacy in her
tone.
He was getting worse. The more he drank, the angrier, the more twisted inside.
He couldn’t take it anymore. In a burst of rage, he smashed the bottle against the wall, the sound echoing through the room. Then, he remembered her saying something about the “hospital on the phone.
Without another thought, he stumbled into his car, ignoring the alcohol in his breath, and drove straight to State Hospital.
He didn’t care if it had a thousand exits, or whether she’d come by car. He stood there at the gate, waiting for three hours like some kind of idiot.
Cloria and Chloe kept calling, but he just turned off his phone. His eyes were fixed on the hospital gates.
He stayed there, waiting for Sophia, his own gesture almost pathetic, but somehow it moved him. He really felt like he was the one being wronged, like he was the one who deserved sympathy.
But as he finally saw her, and caught that look in her eyes–so call, so indifferent–it hit him.
All that frustration from waiting for hours, the anger from being in the hospital twice for this stomach pain, and the fact that she hadn’t even bothered to check on him or care about how he was doing–it all came crashing down in that instant.
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