Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“With Ruiz?” I go still while I wait for her answer. Even though I suspect they were lovers, I hope she’ll say no.
“Yes, with him.”
I hope I hide my disappointment, but maybe I don’t because she sits up abruptly, pulling away from me and leaning her elbows on her knees, avoiding my eyes.
“We met at a shoot on the Riviera when I was barely twenty,” she continues, eyes on the carpet, on her bare feet, on everything but me. “It was our first time working together, but after that, he would suggest me, request me, recommend designers use me. People started calling me his muse.”
Sofie stands up, shoving her fingers through her hair, linking them on her head and blowing out a breath.
“I was so stupid, naïve. Flattered.” Her bitter laugh breaks the silence. “He wanted me and I wanted him. It was that simple, but I had no idea how complex things would become.”
“What happened?”
“We had an affair.” She drops her arms to her side, looking at me unblinkingly, her eyes not hiding a thing. “I knew he lived in Barcelona, but he was with me so much in Milan, I didn’t ask questions. At least not the right questions.”
“He was already married.”
It’s a statement, not a question, because I can see how a man would betray his vows for a woman like Sofie. I would never do it—could never do it—but a man like Ruiz seizes every opportunity, even the ones that don’t belong to him. And it’s only now I understand that Sofie responded so strongly last night when I asked if she still had feelings for a married man because she wasn’t thinking about Walsh. She was thinking about Ruiz.
“I didn’t know.” Sofie drops her head back, fixing her eyes on the modern light fixtures overhead. “And no one thought to tell me. We weren’t even discreet because I didn’t think we had anything to hide. It’s only now, looking back, that I realize how clever he was. Living freely in another country, but managing to keep our relationship relatively quiet in another. I wasn’t nearly as recognizable then as I am now, but still…”
“But things blew up eventually?”
“Boy, did they. We were at Fashion Week in Paris, and I assumed we’d go to dinner after my show, but Seville had decided to surprise him.” Sofie licks her lips. “There was a horrible scene. Everyone heard her calling me…well, what she called me tonight. She’s high strung and, from what I can tell, emotionally unstable. I wanted to break things off with Es, but he told me their marriage had been over for a long time.”
“So you continued the affair after you found out about his wife?” I want her to say no.
“Yeah, I did.” She looks at me and then away, swallowing before continuing. “It was…complicated. When I finally did come to my senses, he still wouldn’t leave me alone for a long time.”
She sighs, dropping her eyes to the floor and chewing one corner of her mouth.
“Right before I broke things off for good, Es and I had lunch in Paris, and pictures were taken. Pictures got out.” Sofie runs her palms over her thighs in the yoga pants. “Seville saw the pictures and apparently tried to kill herself. Came pretty close. She took some pills. It was everywhere. All over the papers. I was barely twenty years old and I was already labeled a home wrecker. I eventually put it behind me. Moved on to someone else. Hell, I even had my shot with Walsh, but this thing with Esteban will always follow me. ”
She hazards a glance up at me, eyes braced for judgment.
“Say something.” An ugly twist of her lips interrupts the flawless face. “Tell me how wrong I was. That I should be ashamed of myself.”
She shakes her head, aggravating the corner of her mouth with her teeth.
“Won’t be anything I haven’t heard before from everyone else.” She sighs. “From myself.”
I once got the chance to view a king’s private collection of artifacts. Everything was ancient, fragile. Some of the items looked as sturdy as the day they’d been created, but that wasn’t true. If I’d handled them too roughly, without care, they could literally have shattered in my hands. That’s how this feels. Some of Sofie’s hurts she’s been carrying around since she was still a girl, and she may appear tough, but I sense that how I handle this moment sets the tone for how we go forward. Despite what she just told me, I want to go forward. The last thing I want is for Sofie to shatter in my hands.
I stand up to take her hands between mine. She doesn’t look up from our fingers mixed up together. I take her chin between my fingers gently, tipping up until she has to look into my eyes.