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CHAPTER ONE
SOPHIA
HERE’S THE thing about heartbreak—it never goes away.
When I lost my first love at seventeen, I was told the pain would fade.
When I was torn away from everything I knew, I was told I’d eventually be grateful for the fresh start.
And maybe those things are true. But five years after my entire life imploded, the pain still feels just as fresh.
Maybe it’s the way the sun is shining today, or how the birds are chirping in the trees outside the coffee shop. They remind me of him, and how he once told me that he couldn’t wait to see me soar.
Staring out the window, I sigh. Maybe it hurts so much because I still haven’t managed to learn how to fly on my own.
I take a sip of my third cup of coffee before grabbing a medium-sized cup and pouring in our house blend. Two creams and three sugars—it’s the way Brent always takes his coffee. He comes in every morning before work, usually running a little late.
Glancing at the clock—it says it’s 10:04—I chuckle. He’s a little later than normal today.
“Soph, can you grab the register?” Lissa, my coworker, asks as she hands some coffees out the drive-thru window.
“Sure thing.” I spin around and step up to the counter, only to meet a pair of hard brown eyes that are disturbingly familiar.
As if I needed another reminder of him. The universe seems to have it out for me lately.
“What can I get for you?” I say, cringing at the fakeness of my tone. But, unfortunately, it’s all I can muster today.
“Sophia.” His voice is deep, with a hint of softness. Just the way he would speak to me—and only me. “How are you?”
My hand hovers over the register, waiting to punch in his order. But at his words, it drops to my side. That voice.
No. It couldn’t be. He’s too busy running his father’s businesses to get his own coffee.
I look up, trapped in the gaze of those brown eyes. And this time, I actually look into them. The same golden flecks that I used to love are still there, along with a darkness that always hovered behind his perfectly-crafted facade of calm.
I let out a breath, taking the rest of him in. His suit fits him perfectly, and his dark hair is a little messy, but in the hot, I-did-this-on-purpose kind of way.
And if he’s surprised to see me behind the counter, he doesn’t let on.
My stomach sinks. I’d hoped this day would never come—when my old high school friends would find out that I’ve been working in food service while they attended elite colleges all over the country. But what else would they think? They all witnessed my family’s fall from grace.
“What can I get you?” I grip the edge of the counter, moving my eyes from his jawline to the screen in front of me. Why does it have to be him?
“Medium coffee, please. Black.”
I ring it in and tell him his total. As he swipes his card, I watch his hands, remembering the last time they touched me, the last time he held me close.
“It’ll be ready in a second.” My tone is too light, too high-pitched.
He hasn’t taken his eyes off of me. “I didn’t realize you were still in town.”
Like you actually care.
“Surprise.” I give him a weak smile before turning to make his drink.
Just then, the bell above our front door rings and Brent walks in. I can’t help but suppress a smile. His shirt is only half tucked in, and his hair is a mess—and not in the hot, I-did-this-on-purpose way.
“Here you go.” I hand him his coffee at the end of the counter. “On the house.”
