Chapter 8: 6| The Day Before

Ethan stood facing the large windows in his office, the city skyline sprawling out before him.

He had just finished the morning briefing with his team and allowed himself a rare moment of stillness. A cup of coffee sat in his hand, bitter but strong enough to jolt him awake.

For the past few days, he had felt like he was in a fever dream—ever since he learned the news.

He was getting married.

The sound of the intercom buzzing pulled him back to reality. He strode over to his desk, setting the cup down a little too hard, spilling some onto the sleek glass surface. Great.

Sighing, he pressed the button.

"Mr. Sinclair, your mother is on the line," his assistant's voice came through the speaker.

Ethan exhaled. Back to normal, then. Seeing his mother's name on his personal phone the other day had almost thrown him off.

"Put her through."

A moment later, Evelyn Sinclair's voice filled the room.

"Ethan, I have something to tell you."

He leaned back in his chair. After their last conversation, nothing could shake him now.

"What is it, Mother?"

"It's about your marriage," she said, her tone as calm and controlled as ever. "Everything has been finalized. All that remains is for you and Sophie to meet and go over the details."

A knot tightened in his stomach.

Everything was becoming too real.

"When do you want me to meet her?" he asked.

"I've set an appointment for you both tomorrow afternoon at the café on Fifth Avenue," Evelyn replied. "Please don't be late. Stay at least an hour. And try not to be overly impatient."

Ethan paused. Was this actually his mother speaking? It almost sounded like... concern.

Was she nagging him? His mother, his always indifferent mother?

"Um. Okay," he said, almost unsure.

"Good," Evelyn said, her voice softening slightly. Then, after a brief hesitation, she added, "One more thing."

Ethan braced himself.

"Your father wants you to inform Sophie about the prenup and set the appointment with the lawyers."

And just like that, the moment—whatever it had been—was gone. So, not only was he meeting her, but he also had to tell her about the prenup.

Ethan clenched his jaw. He had only recently found out about her family's debt, something his parents had conveniently withheld from him. Were they hoping to hold it over her? To keep her under control?

His grip tightened around the phone.

"I understand," he said finally, his tone clipped. "I'll tell her." For some reason, the words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"That's all," Evelyn said, and the line went dead.

Ethan sat there for a moment, staring at his phone. He turned his chair back toward the window, but the city skyline felt blurred, distant. His mind was racing.

If Sophie asked him about what happened in high school... if she asked him why he rejected her...

What the hell was he supposed to say?

He had convinced himself he could handle this. That it would be a simple conversation.

But now, for the first time, he wasn't so sure.

*******

That evening, Ethan attended David's charity event at an upscale art gallery.

The space was filled with art. And more art.

Ethan had always thought most of the wealthy people he knew who dabbled in art were just pretentious—convinced that owning expensive paintings somehow made them cultured.

But David was different.

He lived art. Breathed it. He had talent, too. Too bad he had stopped painting and decided instead to sleep in galleries and sell overpriced pieces to the same pretentious people he hated.

Just like any David event, the venue was filled with well-dressed guests, mingling and admiring the artwork. Ethan found David near a striking sculpture, a glass of champagne in hand.

"Ethan! I'm actually surprised you showed up," David greeted with a grin.

"Well, it's not like I had a choice," Ethan replied, taking a sip of his drink.

David chuckled. "I love how much I mean to you."

"Oh hell, no. You're grossing me out," Ethan deadpanned.

David laughed again, completely unfazed. "Come on, then. Let's get to it—the masterpiece that will change your life."

Ethan scanned the room before responding, his voice laced with mock anticipation. "I'm waiting. Show me the artwork that's about to blow my mind."

David smirked. "You're insufferable, you know that? But seriously, how have you been? It's been a while since I last saw you."

"Nothing's changed," Ethan replied casually. "Well, apart from the fact that I'm getting married."

David nearly choked on his drink. "Wait. You? Married?"

Ethan sighed. "You don't have to make a scene."

David, ignoring him, pressed on. "You were seeing someone, and I didn't know? Is that why you ignored my calls? Is that why you pretended not to be home when I knocked on your door? Is that why you don't come to my art shows anymore?"

"Oh, shut up," Ethan muttered, exasperated. "It's arranged."

David's eyes widened. "Ah. That makes so much more sense. It's not that I doubted you had relationship skills, it's just that... well—"

"Don't finish that sentence," Ethan cut in.

David grinned. "So, who's the lucky lady? Wait, don't tell me—Claire? I mean, if it were her, I'm sure the whole world would have known by now."

Ethan frowned. "It's not Claire. I don't know why you'd even think that." Claire was like a little sister to him—why did people keep making that assumption?

David shrugged. "Just checking. So who is she?"

"Sophie. Sophie Miller."

David's brows furrowed. "Miller? Never heard that name before. She's not from our circle, is she?"

Ethan shook his head. "No."

"Wait—Miller Corporation. I have heard of them. But still, this is unexpected. Is this your father's way of punishing the Montgomery's? I mean, did he just throw a dart at a list of families and decide 'this one will do'?" David joked.

Ethan didn't respond. His father's reasoning was never something he cared to analyze.

David studied him for a moment, then asked, "Have you even met her yet?"

Ethan nodded. "We went to high school together."

David let out a low whistle. "Huh. That's interesting. What's even more interesting is you getting married before me."

Ethan smirked. "One phone call to your mother, and she'd have a wife lined up for you in an hour."

David feigned a horrified expression. "Don't even joke like that."

"You'll probably be single till you're forty," Ethan remarked dryly.

David took a sip of his champagne. "Don't curse me, my friend."

There was a moment of silence before David's tone softened. "Honestly? I think marriage will look good on you. Having someone to lean on, someone who's actually on your side for once? I support this."

Ethan exhaled through his nose, the uncertainty still gnawing at him. "I didn't ask for your support."

David smirked. "Well, too bad. You're getting it anyway—especially since I've just decided I'm going to be your best man."

Ethan huffed a small laugh. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely. And before you ask—no, you don't get a say in it."

Ethan shook his head but didn't argue. He wasn't particularly interested in the wedding itself; he already knew his mother would hijack it and turn it into the grandest spectacle high society had ever seen.

David, however, wasn't done. "Oh, oh," he said, feigning realization. "You know who's really not going to like this?"

Ethan shot him a bored look. "Let me guess—Claire?"

David snapped his fingers. "Bingo."

Ethan remained impassive. "Why? Does she also want to help pick my future wife?"

David chuckled. "Not quite, but she's been pretty vocal about her thoughts on arranged marriages. Especially yours," he added, eyeing Ethan like he was waiting for a reaction.

Ethan merely shrugged. "Claire always has something to say."

"True," David said, shaking his head. "But let's not get into that now. Come on, let me show you the latest piece I acquired."

Ethan took a sip of his drink. "This better be good. I drove all the way out here."

David grinned. "You know I live to impress."

With that, he led Ethan through the gallery, launching into an animated explanation of his latest acquisition—a striking abstract piece by a rising artist. Ethan listened, letting the conversation pull him away, at least for now, from the storm waiting for him outside these walls.

********

Sophie sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by Mia and Lily. As with most of their girls' nights, Mia had brought the snacks, and Lily had brought the alcohol. But tonight didn't feel like a drinking night.

Tomorrow, she was meeting Ethan. And she truly didn't know how to feel.

It was a strange mix of excitement and anxiety, an odd tangle in her chest that she couldn't quite shake. She was nervous, but at the same time, she couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.

Absentmindedly, she twirled a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, staring at her reflection in the standing mirror. Should she put it up? Curl it?

"Leave it down," Mia said, as if reading her mind.

"Yeah, loose curls for volume," Lily added, flopping onto the bed.

Sophie sighed. She almost felt silly for wanting to look pretty tomorrow. Would he even notice? Would he care? Or worse... would he be indifferent?

"You're overthinking again, aren't you?" Mia's voice pulled her from her spiral.

Sophie groaned. "Will you stop reading my mind already?"

Mia raised her hands in mock surrender. "Sorry, but you do that thing with your face. It's like a big neon sign that says 'I'm panicking.'"

Sophie huffed, crossing her arms. She wasn't panicking. Okay, maybe a little.

"I know you're nervous, big sis, but it'll be fine," Lily said, ever the optimist.

Sophie arched an eyebrow. "That's some baseless confidence."

Mia laughed. "She does have a talent for it."

Lily waved them off and stood abruptly. "Okay, enough of this pity party. You need a distraction. Let's try on some dresses. You'll feel better once you're all dressed up."

Before Sophie could protest, Lily had already dived into her closet with the determination of someone on a mission. After a few seconds of rummaging, she gasped triumphantly. "This! This is the dress."

She held up a soft, flowy blue gown—simple, yet elegant. The kind of dress that looked effortless but left an impression.

Sophie eyed it skeptically. "It's nice... but isn't it a bit much?"

Lily draped the dress over Sophie's shoulder dramatically. "Too much? Sophie, you're about to meet the man you've been hung up on since high school. Let's not do 'too casual,' okay?"

Mia smirked from her spot on the bed. "Plus, it's the kind of dress that says, 'Yes, I'm effortlessly gorgeous, and no, you can't look away.'"

Sophie rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. "Fine, you win. I'll try it on."

As she stood to change, Lily's phone buzzed. The small, secretive smile that tugged at her lips didn't go unnoticed.

Sophie narrowed her eyes. "Alright, spill it. Who's got you grinning like that?"

Lily hesitated for only a second before breaking into a sheepish smile. "Okay, okay—I was going to tell you guys later. But... you know that guy I went on that Italian date with? I think we're official."

Mia's jaw dropped. "Lily! Wow!"

Sophie leaned closer to Mia, lowering her voice. "Isn't that the guy you swore up and down was jobless and possibly homeless?"

"Yep," Mia whispered back, barely suppressing a laugh. "And I told her! But she said something about liking that he was unpredictable."

Sophie sighed, exchanging a knowing look with Mia. This isn't going to last. But instead of saying it, she simply shrugged. "Well, if she's happy..."

She had long since learned to stay out of Lily's love life.

Lily, oblivious to their silent exchange, was busy replying to her text.When she finally looked up, she clapped her hands impatiently. "Sophie, go try on the dress already! What are you waiting for?"

Sophie chuckled. "Right, right."

She slipped into the dress while the others waited expectantly. When she finally stepped in front of the mirror, she barely recognized herself. The soft fabric skimmed her frame perfectly, the delicate blue making her green eyes stand out.

For the first time in a long time, she truly felt beautiful. She had spent so much of her life preoccupied with work and the flower shop, always putting responsibilities first. When was the last time she had taken a moment just for herself?

Mia let out a low whistle. "You're gorgeous."

Lily nodded fervently. "Perfect. Perfect. If Ethan doesn't fall to his knees, he's officially a fool."

Sophie laughed, but the nerves still clung to her. "You flatter me."

Lily stepped forward, taking her sister's hands, her expression earnest. "No, I don't. You look beautiful, big sister. Inside and out."

Mia joined them, her eyes warm. "You ready for the big day?"

Sophie took a breath, letting the weight of it all settle. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Tomorrow, she would meet the man who would be her husband.

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Photo credit: Pinterest

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