Page 14 of Muse (The Forbidden Hearts #1)

SOPHIE

W e get ready for dinner, my mother fussing over our appearances.

I swear she is determined to drive us insane.

Her hands flutter over us, tucking stray hairs and tugging at hems, her sighs of disapproval never-ending.

Bells and I escape to her room, shutting the door behind us like we’re sealing off a war zone.

Bells wields her makeup brush like an artist, sweeping color onto my face with soft, feathery strokes.

We don’t spend much time together anymore.

Her world is a flurry of school, friends, and whatever teenage drama consumes fifteen-year-olds.

I get it. I was the same at her age. But tonight, she’s here with me, and I let myself savor it– let the warmth of sisterhood settle into my bones.

Inside, I’m a ball of anxiety. My jaw aches from clenching too tight and my stomach twists itself into knots.

I don’t want to see him after I’ve managed to avoid him this long.

I’ve spent the past year and a half dodging these dinners, slipping out before he arrives, but today I’m out of excuses.

So I armor up, taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders, bracing for impact. Complaining won’t save me .

“You okay?” Bella asks, tilting her head, her eyebrows pinched with concern.

“I’ll be fine,” The lie is easy and practiced as it slips from my tongue. “I just really don't want to see Cole.”

Bells doesn't know the details, I’ve spared her from the worst of them. She’s still so young and na?ve. No need to jade her against the human race preemptively. She knows enough, though, to offer her sympathies.

“I’m sorry. If I could cover for you, I would, but I don’t think there’s any way out of this.”

I reach over, giving her hand a quick squeeze. She’s a sweetheart most of the time. Except for when she steals my clothes.

“How's that boyfriend of yours?” I ask, nudging her with my elbow. Time to change the subject.

“Old news. We broke up.” She waves a dismissive hand, but her grin is quick to return. “But that’s okay, I've moved on. There’s a new kid named Dakota that is SO CUTE.”

I laugh, some of the tension slipping from my shoulders. Oh, to be fifteen and so full of innocence again. “Oooh, I expect updates!”

“Duh. By the way, can I borrow something cute for the mall this weekend? He might be coming!” She flashes her best innocent smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. She knows I’m a sucker when she asks nicely.

“Fine, but give it back! I swear, your closet is a black hole.”

The doorbell rings and my body instantly tenses at the sound.

I hear the murmur of voices, the forced pleasantries exchanged like money.

Their friendships are so fake, all a performance.

Unpaid actors on the stage of life. A delicate balance of polite competition, each family striving to outshine the other.

It’s exhausting and something I truly don’t understand.

If it’s not a genuine friendship, like I have with Sal, then why even continue to pretend?

Before I know it, Bells and I are called downstairs. I hold my chin high, descending the stairs with an air of disinterest, or at least I hope that’s how I appear to our unwanted guests.

Cole stands by the door, khaki-clad and smug, his button-down crisp and expression calculated. He looks exactly the same, yet entirely unfamiliar. I study him, searching for the boy I once knew, but all I see is the polished shell of someone I once loved, and later learned to fear.

He was just always there, our families caught in the same orbit.

We’d known each other since grade school.

We’d run through the wooded areas of his family’s estate, playing in the mud, even dragging Bells along on our adventures of make-believe.

He’d always been mischievous, and sometimes played rough, but I’d enjoyed his company as a child.

After all, how was I to know any better?

At fifteen, his attention had felt thrilling, a rush that makes you ignore the warning signs. And at first, it was fun. But then came the pressure. The slow unraveling of my boundaries, the manipulation disguised as love. My “no” turned to “maybe”, then to “okay, I guess”. If it’ll make you happy.

But that is not a yes.

And then he cheated. Brazenly and with zero remorse. Without even the courtesy of a well-crafted lie. I don’t know if he’s even capable of empathy, but if he is, he’s never shown an ounce of it for what he put me through.

My mother’s voice snaps me from my thoughts. “Sophie, sweetie, it’s time to eat.” She smiles, all warmth and southern charm, but the sharp glint in her eye warns me not to make a scene.

At the table, Cole sits directly across from me. We say grace, something we never do unless there’s an audience. The hypocrisy is almost amusing. I fix my gaze on my plate, focusing on the rhythm of my fork scraping against the porcelain .

The food is good, I'll admit that. My mother can cook. Being a stay at home wife affords her plenty of time to perfect her craft. I shovel in bites of caesar salad, rib roast, and mashed potatoes, knowing that as long as my mouth is full, I won't be expected to speak.

“So, Cole, how’s college?” My mother’s voice practically drips with admiration. Insert eye roll here. “I hear you’re eyeing law school?”

“Yes, ma’am. Corporate law, like my father.” His smirk is effortless, his arrogance rolling off him in waves. Gag me.

“Oh, that's just wonderful! I wish Sophie would go to law school. She argues with me plenty enough, might as well get paid for it!” She laughs, delighted by her own joke.

I meet her gaze, unamused. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I'm sure she'll do great things, won't you, babe?” Cole chimes in, and I want to throat punch him. What the fuck. His voice oozes condescension, and the nickname makes my stomach lurch. I knew this was a terrible idea. I should've feigned sickness.

He's so fucking smug.

My sister taps my foot with hers under the table in silent support. Making sure I know that she's got my back, even if she can’t voice it out loud. I love her for it. I take slow, measured breaths, trying to calm my fraying nerves. My stomach is a coiled knot of tension, ready to burst.

The conversation fades into background noise as Cole watches me, his eyes holding nothing within their blue depths.

There is no regret, no remorse, just the same empty, calculating stare that used to make me second-guess myself and my own memories.

I’ll never forget the feeling of doubting my own sanity, and I’ll never let another man make me feel the same way.

I excuse myself, weaving through the house until I reach the upstairs bathroom. I need a moment to breathe. I shut the door behind myself and turn the lock, finally feeling somewhat safe with a solid barrier between him and I.

I look at myself in the mirror, my reflection staring back, my skin pale and face tense.

God, I could use a joint. Just one hit to take the edge off.

But that would only make things worse later.

I wait, just a few minutes longer. A sharp inhale, a slow exhale.

Before I know it, I’ve run out of time. I square my shoulders and open the door, only to find Cole standing there, blocking my path.

“What the hell, Cole? Move.” I scowl.

He doesn’t, of course. So predictable. His gaze drags over me lazily, lingering in a way that makes my skin crawl. I try to shoulder past him, but he throws his arms up, blocking my way out.

“I miss you, babe.” His voice is low, slick with false charm. “Been meaning to call, see how you're doing, but, you know, college… But I'm home for a week. Maybe we could spend some time together… like old times.” He winks, and the fucking audacity has me ready to scream, my blood boiling.

“Not interested.”

“Oh, don't be like that, baby.” He leans in, his breath hot against my skin. “I know I fucked up, but I was young and dumb. I'm grown now. And you…” His eyes rake over me again, a slow, deliberate once-over. “—you clearly have too.”

He's so fucking punchable.

“Cole, I'm not going to say it again. Fucking move .” My voice is sharp and unwavering as I try to feign bravery.

I shove past him, but he grabs my waist, yanking me back.

His body presses against mine, and I feel it…

the disgusting proof of his intentions. My stomach turns, nausea clawing its way up my throat.

I want to cry. I want to scream. But would my parents even intervene?

They’d likely laugh it off, chalk it up to boys being boys .

“Come on, we can have some fun. It won't take long.”

I wrench away from him, heart pounding, and bolt for the stairs.

Fuck. This.

My keys. I need my keys.

I snatch them from the entryway table and sprint to my car, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me in one frantic motion.

My chest heaves, breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps.

I feel sick, small, and so powerless. I'll deal with my parents later.

I can't be in that house, with him, even a moment longer.

Cole is why I've sworn off relationships. He’s why I don’t trust sweet words and charming smiles. Because underneath charm and wit, there’s always darkness lurking. Just waiting for the chance to be unleashed.

I've had fun, casual hookups since we broke up. I've gone on dates. But I no longer believe in real love. And it'd take a hell of a man to convince me to take that chance again.

The vibration in my pocket nearly makes me jump out of my skin. My hands shake as I pull out my phone, relief filling my chest when I see Sal’s name glowing on the screen.

I swipe to answer and put it on speaker.

“Girl, where have you been? I've waited all day to hear back from you!” she says, the worry evident in her voice. God, I love her.

“Sal…” I choke out, before bursting into tears.

Fuck, I did not want to cry. Not over Cole, not again.

“Oh my god! What's happening? Scratch that—where are you? I'm coming to you.”

“No, no.” I take deep breaths, in and out, trying to calm my nerves. My whole body shakes with rage, tears of frustration streaming down my face. “Can I just come over?”

She hesitates for the slightest moment before saying, “Yes, of course. Please drive safely, pull over if you need to.”

“I will,” I manage to say. I disconnect the call and crank up the car, blasting the heat. I'm freezing, goosebumps dotting my skin. I have no jacket and no plan, I was only thinking about my need to escape.

I take a deep breath and drive, blinking tears from my eyes as I race for Sal’s, my safe space to fall apart.