Page 58 of A Simple Reminder
I look at her, unsure where to begin but knowing that I owe her the full story now.
So, I tell her everything. I tell her how we met when I was twenty, how he took me under his wing and showed me the beauty of Barcelona. How he cared for me, made me feel seen, especially after everyone else seemed to disappear. I tell her about our first kiss and how he always stood up for me to his friends, never pressuring me into anything. How well he understood my past, my father, and the weight I carried. It felt like he shared the same values, like he got it in a way no one else did. Like he got me.
I tell her how I fell so deeply in love that it scared me—and how I'm afraid those feelings never truly went away. Because that’s the truth. From the moment I saw him again after all this time, when his eyes landed on me for just a few seconds too long, my world shifted off its axis. And I’ve been fighting that feeling ever since. Fighting so hard, I lost the battle just now, allowing myself to be sucked in again.
Adeline grabs my hand, squeezing it gently. “And then what happened?” she asks softly.
I shift on the floor, the memory still sharp and painful in my mind—the moment my entire perception of him shattered, the moment everything changed.
TWENTY-FIVE
SOPHIE
TEN YEARS AGO
“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t plan it. It just happened,” I say, trying to calm him down,again. He was not happy after I sent him those tattoo photos. What was I thinking? I mean, whose father jumps with joy at the sight of ink on their daughter? But I thought the sight of the flower would warm up his day in rehab. I was obviously wrong.
“I didn’t send you to Barcelona to go rogue. You’re supposed to be studying.” His voice is stern, but I can hear the undercurrent of humor hiding beneath the disapproval.
“Iamstudying,” I try to defend myself, but he’s already on a roll.
“Tattoos and boys... It’s not like I haven’t been young once. And I know what Barcelona’s like. The parties, the men, the wild life.”
“It’s not like that, Dad. Liam is actually amazing. He’s kind and smart and...” I trail off, suddenly aware of just how much I’m revealing.
“Oh?” He’s intrigued now. “So, this Liam boy. He’s more than just a tattoo buddy?”
I hesitate, because what are we exactly?
“He’s… Well, it’s complicated. I know it’s just for now. I’m coming back home soon, and he lives here and in France, but it’s hard to explain.”
My dad sighs, his playful tone shifting to something softer and more fatherly. “Sophie, I just want you to thrive. I want you to not end up throwing away your potential for other people—or worse, throwing it away for someone like me.”
“Dad,” I say, my voice firm but affectionate. “Firstly, you‘ve done your best and I love you. Don’t ever think I’d compare anyone to you. And secondly, Liam… He’s different. He does something to me.”
“Are you sure you know him well? Please, tell me he’s not into...” he pauses, and I know where this is going, “drugs, is he?”
There it is, the real fear creeping into his voice. I can almost picture him on the other end, running a hand through his graying hair, anxious. My heart softens, and I wish I could hug him through the phone.
“Dad, no,” I reassure him, “Liam’s not into any of that. He’s nothing like that.” But the silence stretches too long, and I know he’s not fully convinced. “I swear, Dad. He’s different.Ipicked the tattoo. He’s not dragging me into anything bad. No drugs. No recklessness.”
He lets out a long breath, but there’s still something weighing on him. “Sophie,” he says, his tone shifting to something heavier, something more raw. “Promise me something.”
I feel my stomach tighten. “Dad, please. You’re overthinking this.”
“No,” he cuts me off, his voice firm, ”I know what I’ve done. I know the path I walked. And I don’t want you falling for someone like me. Promise me you’ll never choose a man like me.”
My throat tightens. “Dad, stop, you’re–”
”No, Petal. I mean it. The things I’ve done, the damage I’ve caused. Please, promise me.” His voice cracks, and I can hear the years of regret laced in his words.
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his request. “I promise.”
The callwith Dad took longer than I had anticipated, but I’ve missed him. He’s been doing great and making so much improvement. Rehab has been great for him. I just hope it continues.
I’m sitting on my bed, textbooks and notes spread out in front of me, trying to focus on myDesign Project Managementexam coming up on Monday. But my mind keeps drifting. To Liam. Always Liam.
Outside, I can hear the sounds of people laughing, talking, living—it’s Saturday in Barcelona, and everyone’s out enjoying themselves. Except me.
