Chapter Text
Of all the things to cause her anxiety, Sophie never thought it would be something as simple as a plus sign. And she’d been a straight A student through her entire academic career, ignoring the one C she’d gotten for an Art class in secondary school. That wasn’t her fault. She just wasn’t as artistically talented as some people she knew.
But here she was, panicking over a plus sign. One staring back at her from the middle of the white and purple stick laying on the table in front of her.
“Shit,” she cursed miserably, letting her head drop onto the table in front of her, and grimacing at the sharp pain that came with her forehead connecting with the hardwood furniture. A sad, pathetic little ‘ow’ slipping from her lips as she moaned.
She should have stopped after the third test, before she’d decided to shift to a different brand. That, and she wasn’t sure she could drink any more water. She’d down two whole bottles in an effort to get all the tests done. But after the third one’s results, she’d known they would all be the same, that this was not a case of false positives. Each plastic stick would have the same matching, colorful pulse sign on them, confirming what she’d been dreading.
That she was pregnant.
About eight weeks give or take. If she had to make a guess.
And now she was struggling to figure out just how and when this had happened. Scratched that. She only needed to figure out when it had happened. She knew damn well how it had happened, and with who, but even then she was confused. They’d always been safe, always made sure to use protection whenever they got a bit more passionate. Hell, she’d been on the pill since she was sixteen. There was nothing more in the world she took more seriously.
And why wouldn’t she? Her own conception and birth had been one out of wedlock.
Her parents were not only unmarried when she was conceived but, subsequently, never did. If it hadn’t been for her mother’s untimely death, Sophie probably would never have even met her father. She’d only been thrown back into his life upon her mother’s sudden death, forcing him to step up and be a parent to the child he’d never wanted, the child he’d turned his back on after discovering its existence. And the moment Sophie set foot in his house, five years old and grieving, their relationship had been nothing but an awkward, decade long dance around one another until he himself dropped dead of a heart attack when she was fifteen. Ending any attempt at repairing the distance that had built up between them during his life and leaving Sophie at the mercy of her steprelatives.
Ever since she’d left that house, she’d spent her life making sure she wouldn't repeat what her parents had done. That she wouldn’t make the same mistakes they had.
And yet, here she was, twenty-two and pregnant. Just like her mother before her.
With the father of her child completely unaware of the life-changing screwball she was about to throw at him. One that was currently the size of a raspberry and peacefully growing inside of her, unaware of the chaos it was causing her.
All the result of their impulsive and reckless behavior in Paris, now that she thought about it. She should have realized sooner.
It had been one simple romantic getaway two months ago, the first time they’d ever gone somewhere outside of London together. A getaway where Sophie had gotten very drunk on love (and a lot of French wine) that she couldn’t recall afterwards if they’d used protection on their first night in Paris. And she’d never gotten a chance to confirm it.
She had no idea how she was going to tell him. Her boyfriend. The father of her dreams. The man of her dreams.
And it didn’t help that they’d only been dating for long. They were still two months away from their one year anniversary, which was not even for their first date but instead the night they’d first met.
No matter what Sophie said, her boyfriend refused to let their first date be the date of their anniversary.
“ I was in love with you from the moment I saw you. That’s far more important to me than the first time you let me pay for dinner. And far more romantic.”
Sophie would always roll her eyes whenever he said that. Because a Jane Austen trivia night at a pub in Camden was somehow more romantic than a fancy dinner at a three star Michelin restaurant.
Okay, maybe it was a little bit romantic.
It had only been by chance that they’d met that night. He’d only ended up there because of a mix up. Apparently, there had been two Jane Austen themed trivia nights occurring in the city of London that night, one which Sophie had been at with her friends and the other where his siblings were celebrating one of his sister’s birthday. He’d just gone to the wrong one by accident.
And the moment he’d stepped through the pub doors, shaking water out of his hair as he quickly stumbled in to escape the downpour beating down on the pavement outside, she’d felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. A shiver rolling down her spine and a buzzing sensation filling her ribcage right below her heart, and forcing her to look over.
Her eyes had caught his pale blue ones and the second they had, he’d stopped in place. As if he’d had the exact same feeling as her. Then she blinked and he was sliding into the seat next to her and asking if he could buy her a drink when she already had a full pint sitting in front of her.
She’d been tempted to ignore him at first, shrug off the sensations as nothing but the temperature of the bar getting to her, but she’d found him hard to resist.
Dark chestnut hair that curled at the tips, even more when it was wet, and a crooked smile that sent a thrill through her whenever she saw it, only piqued her curiosity. Plus, he was incredibly charming and very funny, making conversing with him easy and not awkward and anxiety inducing as Sophie usually felt when talking to men. They’d gotten so caught up in their conversation, she’d forgotten all about the trivia competition going on around them.
He wasn’t supposed to have stayed. It was his sister’s birthday, and he was at the wrong pub. If he didn’t leave soon, his sister was going to have his ass, as he’d repeatedly told her. But no matter how many times he had said it, he just continued to sit there, chatting with her.
Finally, she’d convinced him that he probably needed to get to his sister’s party, before the clock struck midnight, or else his little sister would, as he’d said, have his ass mounted on the wall in this mother’s home. It wasn’t fair of her to take up all his attention when he was supposed to be celebrating with his family. But the only way he’d leave was if he got her number.
So, she’d agreed, typing her number into his phone before he left and two days later he texted asking if she wanted to meet up.
The rest had been history. Your typical, blossoming romance that turned into a full blown relationship rather quickly. Too quickly for Sophie’s taste but even she couldn’t deny that she was in love. That this man she'd met by chance made her feel a way she’d never felt before.
And now she had to figure out how she was going to tell him about this. That she was pregnant.
She had no idea how he would react.
But she had to tell him. That she knew. It wasn’t fair to keep this from him, he had just as much of a stake in the matter as she did. This baby was as much his as it was hers, and he deserved to know. He deserved to have a say in this.
And she knew she had to tell him face to face, even if she couldn’t figure out how to tell him. She knew this was a conversation she couldn’t have over the phone. She needed to see him, to, as they say, rip the band-aid off. They could figure it out from there.
If she called him now, he’d probably pick up. While working at a top tier law firm had been a pain to work around, many dates and hangouts rescheduled because work kept him longer than he wanted, Sophie knew that he had a strict policy of starting his lunch break at eleven fifty or else he wouldn’t eat until dinner (which would sometimes be as late as ten in the evening), and with her classes today not starting till one, now was the best time to call.
Grabbing her phone from the table, where it was still sitting next to the pregnancy test, she quickly found his contact and called. It only took a few rings before he picked up.
“Hello?”
Rip off the band-aid. She just had to rip off the band-aid.
| Six Years Later |
There were many things that made being a single mother difficult, but Sophie found sleep deprivation to be one of the top three. Maybe number two, after child expenses but before no longer having a social life.
Ever since her son had been born it had felt as though she hadn’t had a good night sleep in years. She felt like she got even less sleep than when she’d been in university or before that, when she’d still been living with her steprelatives (which really said something). And her son had become even more of a morning person than she was. Sophie was pretty sure he was currently waking at the crack of dawn, playing with his toys in his room for an hour, before he got bored of waiting for her to wake up and decided to go wake her himself.
Which is exactly what he did the morning she was set to start her new job.
She’d been woken from her peaceful slumber, from her dreams of relaxing on a nice sunny beach somewhere warm with a very fruity drink in her hand to a slight pressure on her back. Pressure that felt like two little hands pushing against the muscles in her shoulder blades.
“Mama?” he son, Charles, asked as he went back to pushing against her back. “Mama, wake up.”
Sophie groaned. She really did not want to be getting up right now. Eyes still closed, body loose and relaxed, she almost went right back to sleep then and there.
Almost.
“Mama!” Charles whined louder, shaking her still with more force now. “Mama, it’s time to wake up.”
He wasn’t going to let up. Sophie knew that. Her son was relentless, and twice as stubborn as she was. Where he got it from she didn’t know, but she knew once Charles set his mind to something, he was going to get it done.
Taking a few final seconds to let the clutches of sleep escape her, letting her body fully wake up, Sophie finally rolled over onto her back and opened her eyes. Blinking awake, she found her five year old kneeling on the covers next to her, beaming brightly down at her.
“Morning Mama,” he said, loudly and excitedly. The moment he noticed she was awake, he was flashing her an innocent smile, as if he hadn’t been the one rudely trying to wake her moments ago.
Even in her drowsy state, Sophie couldn’t help but smile back at him.
“What are you so happy about?” she asked, fondly.
“Nana came up and said you didn’t need to worry about making breakfast today because she already has,” Charles happily told her, before flashing another toothy smile. “She’s making pancakes.”
Sophie sighed. Marilla didn’t need to do that.
She knew her godmother meant well, but she was more than capable of managing Charles and getting ready for work at the same time. Only, much like Charles, there wasn’t much she could do to stop the older woman when she set her mind to something.
Maybe that’s where he’d gotten his stubbornness from?
And she supposed, as she thought it over, if Marilla was going to handle breakfast, then Sophie had a few minutes to just relax before she had to get out of bed and get ready.
Scanning the clock on her side table to check, she saw it was only ten minutes before her alarm was going to go off. Charles had, thankfully, decided to not to wake her an hour before her alarm went off, like he normally did.
Marilla had frankly done her a favor. She could spend a few minutes cuddling her son now. Something she quickly and happily did, reaching out and snatching her son up, pulling him into her arms as he squealed and began to giggle. Her fingers danced quickly down his sides as she tickled him, making him squeal louder and wriggle desperately out of her grip.
“Stop, mama! Stop ! That tickles!” he ordered as he laughed.
Sophie couldn’t resist it, she tickled him for a few more seconds before pressing a big kiss to his cheek and letting him go. Charles, still giggling, quickly moved away from her in case she tried to grab him again and began to climb off the bed.
“Careful,” she told him gently as she watched, poised to catch him if he slipped. Her bed wasn’t too high up off the ground, but it didn’t mean she didn’t worry.
“I know,” Charles replied dismissively as he slid off the bed with ease.
Biting her tongue, Sophie tried to hold back a sigh. She knew she had to move on. Charles was getting older and soon he wouldn’t need her that much. Not that he wasn’t already incredibly independent, even at his young age.
Bold and fearless, and a quick learner too, Charles was like a little general the way he’d sometimes order her about. He’d somehow memorized almost every tube line and station, and he could direct Sophie anywhere after visiting it once. And it didn’t help that her son could charm the socks off of anyone with just a quick bashful look and sweet, crooked smile, making it hard for even Sophie to tell him off or punish him for misbehaving, when all he had to do was give her a sad look and a small “I’m sowry , mama” and she was already over whatever it was he’d done.
“ Oh, this one’s going to be a heartbreaker one day ,” Marilla had told her in the hospital room after Charles was born, cooing over her grand-godchild as he slept peacefully in her arms.
Just like his father , Sophie had thought sadly.
And that wasn’t the only thing Charles shared in common with his father. Similarities that always took Sophie by surprise. They tended to show up suddenly and without warning, forcing Sophie to recall a time and a man she did not truthfully ever want to think about.
Even without ever having met him, Charles had picked up some of his father’s personality and traits.
He’d explode with energy whenever he got excited, suddenly bouncing off the walls when he’d previously been calm and collected, as if he’d been given free reign in a candy store with an unlimited amount of money to spend. Charles also loved to cuddle up with her in the morning; she'd sometimes wake to find little arms wrapped around her waist and a tiny body pressed against her chest underneath the duvet. His father had been the same, waking her by wrapping an arm around her and dragging her close, moaning that it was far too early in the morning to be getting up and they could sleep for a few more minutes, even when she was telling him it was close to ten am and she had to get up for her class.
Charles also snored. Just like his father, even though his father had always denied it when Sophie had pointed it out to him. And he hated broccoli, which his father hated too, but loved red delicious apples, which were his father’s favorite snack. He had a sweet tooth, but could have gotten that from Sophie, and like his father, besides the snoring, Charles also slept like the dead, which had left Sophie quite surprised when he suddenly became a morning person like her. His father was a perpetual night owl who loved sleeping and lounging about, and there had been many occasions where Sophie had found him passed out on her couch napping in the middle of the afternoon. And once he was asleep he was difficult to wake up, just like it was with Charles.
When Charles had been a baby, whenever he would wake Sophie up in the middle of the night crying, he’d fall back asleep the moment she lifted him up and out of his cradle and brought him against her chest to feed him. As if to say it wasn’t his nappy or his belly that was causing his upset, but the fact that he wasn’t at her side.
Just like his father, Charles was always right there next to her. Even when she wasn’t looking. She’d turn around and find him right there. He just liked to be around her.
Well, Charles did. His father…his father was another story.
Even with all those similarities he’d somehow inherited, there was one thing they didn’t have in common.
Charles hated art. Ironic, given his father’s artistic talents had also been inherited. But Charles hated doing crafts, hated painting or drawing, and he especially, especially hated art museums. He found them just terribly boring.
“ They’re just terribly boring ,” he’d told her with a whine when she’d suggested going one weekend. “ I want to go see the dinosaurs instead. ”
And Sophie didn’t mind relenting to this preference. She wouldn’t ignore that she worried sometimes that she might run into Charles’ father. It had been over six years since they’d last spoken, but London could feel incredibly small sometimes and she knew he was out there. Somewhere.
And the National Gallery and Tate Modern had practically been a second home for him. The places he went when he needed a moment to breathe or think. She feared she’d walk into a room and find him there with his new partner or conquest , leading her around and showing off his knowledge the same way he had with Sophie once before. It was why she kept away from the places she knew he frequented most, not that she could afford most of them anyway.
But Sophie had to stop thinking about him. Thinking about Charles’ father always left her in a bad mood, reminding her of the pain and heartbreak that had come with their relationship’s sudden and unexpected end.
And today was not the day to start off in a foul mood.
Slamming her hand on the alarm, when it finally went off, with a bit more force than she’d wanted, Sophie threw back the covers and headed towards the bathroom to get ready. There was only one bathroom on their floor, and Charles was already inside standing on his stool in front of the mirror, brushing his teeth. Standing next to him, Sophie began brushing her own teeth before getting a comb through her pin straight hair and then over Charles’ soft almost curls. Once they were done, she gently pushed him out of the bathroom and towards his room, instructing him to change out of his pajamas and into his new school uniform that she laid out for him the night before.
Charles was adamant he did not need her help getting ready, so Sophie used it as an opportunity to quickly slip back into her room and change. She’d spent the previous day anxiously trying to figure out what to wear before finally deciding on an ivory, silk, button up blouse with a simple, black, pencil skirt and beige tights underneath. Nothing too fancy or over the top, and what Lucy had confirmed for her over Facetime was a good choice.
Once changed, Sophie put on a little bit of makeup and made sure her dark hair looked perfect, without a strand out of place. She’d run a straightener through it the night before, making sure it was perfectly straight. She’d curved the straightener towards the ends of her shoulder length locks to give them a little flick at the ends. She’d even pulled out the fancier jewelry, a pair of pearl earrings and matching pearl drop necklace Marilla and Thomas had gifted her for her birthday. It added a level of elegance to her overall simple outfit.
And once she was ready, she exited her room and found Charles dressed and ready for his first day at his new school.
Sophie couldn’t help but smile when she saw Charles waiting for her in the hall, all ready and dressed for his new school. He looked so grown up wearing his new navy jumper and black khaki pants. His new primary school was a little more prestigious than the last one, some Charles seemed to realize as well, given he’d thrown on the school’s blazer and cap. His new black sneakers squeaked as they rubbed against the hardwood. It appeared that he wanted to look his best for his first day at a new school.
“Ready?” she asked, trying to suppress a fond giggle. His blazer looked a size too big, almost hanging off him, but he’d grown into it.
Charles nodded and quickly went ahead of her, making his way down to the kitchen where Sophie could smell the sweet smell of pancakes wafting from. And the moment Marilla saw Charles, she gasped.
“Oh, look at you. Don’t you look so handsome? A proper, little gentleman,” she cooed, placing both hands over her heart as she turned and saw Charles enter the room. “Thomas? Thomas, where’s my phone? I need to get a photo.”
“Right here,” Thomas replied with a soft chuckle, phone already in hand and held out towards her, having been waiting for her to ask for it.
“Just wait, Charlie. Let me get a quick photo,” Marilla ordered him gently as she got the phone ready, leaning down as she held it out in front of her. “Now give me a big smile.”
Charles obliged with ease, giving his Nana a big, toothy smile, head held high as he beamed brightly. Marilla tapped her phone screen a few times, telling him to hold the pose and repeating how handsome he looked, before pointing at Sophie and then back to Charles.
“Get in there, Sophie,” Marilla ordered. “I want one of the both of you. It's a big day for you both.”
Sophie sighed, shaking her head as she stepped forward and came to her son’s side, crouching down next to him and putting her hands on his shoulders as she smiled up at the camera from behind him.
Her godmother got a few more pictures before lowering the phone. “Perfect. I’ll send these to you as well Sophie so you have a copy,” she told Sophie as she flipped through the pictures.
“You really didn’t need to make breakfast,” Sophie said to her godmother as she made her way to the kitchen table.
“Oh, nonsense,” Marilla replied with a dismissive wave. “It’s an important day. First day at a new job and a new school, you shouldn’t be running around stressing about the little things.”
Sophie bit her tongue, deciding it was best not to argue with Marilla about breakfast any further.
Her godparents were retired. Well, semi-retired, they still ran the cafe they’d owned for thirty years with one of their daughters. And with three daughters and an army of grandchildren of their own, Sophie always felt as though she was a burden for them, taking up space in their old, two story Victorian home.
She and Charles lived on the second floor, Sophie in the spare guest room and Charles in a smaller room that had originally been a study. The Crabtrees had insisted that Charles get a room of his own, but had fitted the room with a bunk bed at Sophie's request so that there would still be space for their grandchildren if they ever spent the night. There were two other guest rooms in the home, along with the master bedroom, but Sophie felt she’d taken up enough space by just being there.
But for a college drop out with a small child, there wasn’t much else in London that Sophie could afford. She didn’t even pay rent staying with the Crabtrees, and they refused whenever she tried. She tried to get them to at least take the money she was getting from renting out My Cottage, her only main solid source of income these past few years, but they refused that too, telling her she needed it for Charles.
They’d done so much for her over the years. Ever since they realized what her stepmother had been doing after Sophie’s father passed, how she’d been treating her.
They’d swept her from the house in less than a day, showing up at the front door one afternoon with their two son-in-laws as backup while they instructed a then seventeen year old Sophie to get in the car. That they would pack up her stuff for her. That she was leaving and wouldn’t be returned to her stepmother’s care.
They’d then spent money from their own pension and savings to pay for the solicitor who got Sophie what remained of her inheritance, which wasn’t much by that point but had included the deed to My Cottage, her father’s home. They’d helped Sophie get back not only her independence, but back on her feet. Twice now, since they’d done the same again after she got pregnant with Charles.
No matter how many times the Crabtrees told her she was family and that was just what you did for family, Sophie felt like she owed her godparents so much. So she tried to help in other ways, like paying for any maintenance issues that might have come up in the old home or running errands and helping them fill out paperwork. Bring them to their doctor visits and make sure they were taking the list of medications that came with getting old so their daughters didn’t need to worry about it.
So, Sophie bit her tongue and sat down, watching Charles scarf down plate after plate while she slowly nibbled at her own. Thinking of ways to return the favor to Marilla for taking care of breakfast and making a list of what she’d need to do when she got home after work today.
As she thought it over, she didn’t realize that time had started to slip away from her, until she glanced down at her wristwatch and saw the time.
“Oh! Oh, Charlie, we need to go!” she quickly said, jumping up from her seat. “We’re gonna be late.”
Charles quickly jumped down from his chair and grabbed his backpack, one which Marilla had hung up there for him, before racing towards the front door. Behind him, Sophie scrambled to grab her purse and house keys as she made her way into the hallway, where she grabbed her coat and threw it on.
“We’ll meet you at the cafe after you get off,” Marilla reminded her as they were heading out the front door.
Sophie nodded. “See you then.”
“Bye Nana. Bye Pop-pop,” Charles yelled out from the front stairs, waving excitedly.
“Bye Charles! Have a good day!” Marilla called back, blowing him a big kiss.
“Be good today kiddo,” Thomas added and the next thing Sophie knew, she and Charles were halfway down the street and racing towards the underground.
–
“Okay, here we are,” Sophie announced gently as she led Charles past the gates of St. Charlotte’s.
Thankfully, they’d caught the first train right as it pulled in, meaning they were only a few minutes late by the time they got from the station to the school. A little out of breath and frazzled, but they’d gotten there just after the doors had opened to welcome the students in.
Sophie’s new boss, Agatha Danbury, had recommended the school, even pulled a favor for her with the headmistress to get Charles in at the last minute, which Sophie had been eternally grateful for. It was a little bit more expensive than Charles’ previous school, but it was also conveniently located near to where Sophie would now be working, meaning she wouldn’t have to spend much on transportation and would be close by if anything happened.
And the school was a definite up from Charles’ previous primary school, with black iron gates circling the property, which was a large, grand looking, red brick building. A large grassy playground to their left as they headed towards the front doors, where a stream of children were saying their goodbyes to their parents and guardians before heading in. Some were crying and others were happily skipping and running into the school, excitedly greeting their friends as they spotted them.
Charles’ hand, which was currently held in Sophie, suddenly gripped tighter, squeezing hers as they got closer to the front door.
“Are you alright, my little bumblebee?” Sophie asked, glancing down and noting the hesitant look on her son’s face.
While his eyes held a rather fearful gaze, Charles nodded.
Sophie slipped her hand gently out of his to run it over the top of his head, over the soft, chestnut strands that curled every so slightly at the ends.
“You’ll be fine,” she told him, leaning down to give him a supportive peak on the cheek. “I know you’ll make lots of new friends and have a good time.”
Charles nodded again, more vigorously this time, seeming to slowly be regaining his courage. Sophie gently led him over to the front door, where a young woman with a clipboard, possibly one of the teachers, was standing. She appeared to be answering questions and instructing students on where to go when parents brought them up to drop them off.
And she smiled at them politely when she saw them.
“And who might this be?” she asked, looking down at Charles.
Glancing over his shoulder towards her, Charles gave his mother a hesitant look, but Sophie gently nodded back, urging her son to step forward and introduce himself.
So, Charles turned back to the woman, puffed up his chest and tilted up his chin and said. “I’m Charles Benjamin Baek. But everyone calls me Charlie.”
The teacher only smiled sweetly back. “Well, I’m Ms Brown. Now, let’s see where you will be,” she then scanned over her clipboard. “Ah yes, Charles Baek. You’ll be in the Keats' classroom. Right down the hall with Mrs. Quinn.”
“Alright, last goodbyes,” Sophie told her son.
Crouching down to Charles’ level, placing her hands on his arms as he turned to face her, she looked him in the eye.
“You be good, okay?” she said and he nodded. “Make lots of friends and enjoy yourself, alright? I’ll be back later this afternoon to pick you up, and we’ll go have dinner at the cafe with Nana and Pop-pop.”
“Okay, mama,” Charles told her, nodding.
Sophie smiled. “Alright, now give me a kiss.”
Charles pecked her on the cheek.
“Now the other side,” she instructed sweetly.
He quickly moved and kissed her other cheek.
“Nose kisses!” she said and Charles giggled.
They rubbed the tips of their noses against each other, and Sophie threw in one more kiss against his cheek before standing back up. Stepping back so her son could get into the building.
“You have a good time, baby,” she told him. “I love you.”
“Love you to, mama,” Charles called out over his shoulder as he ran up the front stairs, his backpack bouncing up and down wildly behind him as he did.
Chewing her lower lip nervously., Sophie watched him make his way down the front hallway and into a room another teacher had directed him to. Knowing he was now safe inside, she swallowed down her worries and concerns, hoping Charles would have a good day at his new school, before turning and making her way towards the office.
It didn’t take long. Agatha had recommended St. Charlotte’s due to its proximity, so Sophie arrived at the rather tall and imposing office building quickly enough. As she walked in, Sophie still found herself a little taken aback at how fancy the interior looked. Even the lobby was decorated in a manner to give off an air of prestige, which was to be expected given the firm’s reputation. She almost felt like she’d walked into a hotel given the modern furniture and elegant designs decorating the walls. The trickling water sounds from the indoor water fountain, a large glass screen set up as a makeshift waterfall, added an air of serenity and peace to the lobby. The firm’s name engraved in black over the glass, blurred slightly as water continuously poured down over it, but the name could still be made out.
Bridgebury was one of the top law firms in the city and Sophie still couldn’t believe she’d landed a job working there without a degree. Her pay was now ten times what she’d been making doing temp work and renting out My Cottage, and, even better, she was now salaried with benefits.
She could almost cry whenever she thought about it. She didn’t care if she was just a secretary, eighty thousand pounds a year was worth it. A few months working here and she knew she’d finally be able to pay back the Crabtrees for all their help. To get enough for a place of her own, or to even live in My Cottage after years of renting it out for extra cash. The position was a godsend and there was no way she was going to let go of the opportunity Agatha had given her.
Making her way towards the security desk, Sophie politely told them her name and that she was to start working today with Mrs. Danbury. She told them that she was also supposed to pick up an ID badge from them, but the security officer behind the desk told her that while she was in the system and approved to be let up, her ID was still being made so someone would come down to escort her up in the meantime.
So, she waited. Standing somewhat awkwardly in the area by the elevators, waiting until a ding could be heard as the doors opened and a young gentleman stepped out. He was younger than Sophie, looking fresh out of university with dark hair and boyish good looks. He glanced around before spotting her, quickly jogging over to greet her.
“You must be Sophie,” he told her and she nodded. He then stuck his hand out. “I’m Theo, one of the copywriters.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sophie said, taking it and giving it a quick shake.
“Mrs. Danbury asked me to escort you up since she sort of can’t at the moment.”
“Understandable,” Sophie commented with a lighthearted laugh, well aware her new boss was currently confined to a wheelchair for the next month due to an injury involving a staircase and bad slippers.
Theo then led her past security and to the elevators, apologizing for her ID badge not being ready as he tapped his own on the card reader and pressed the button for the seventh floor. Sophie assured him it was fine and the conversation continued on with little fanfare. Basic small talk, asking each other where they were from and talking about the recent blessing of sunshine the city had gotten for the past week. They chatted until Theo stopped in front of a recognizable door. Sophie remembered it from the last time she’d come to Bridgebury, to finalize her working papers and get trained by the outgoing assistant, Coral. It led into her new boss’ office.
“Mrs. Danbury. Ms. Baek is here,” Theo announced politely after knocking and opening the door for Sophie, letting her step in first.
Sitting in the middle of the room, behind a large, mahogany desk, was Agatha Danbury. Dressed to the nines with one of her legs currently propped up and in a white plaster cast, a dark heel on the other unbroken foot. She glanced up from the papers laying on the desk in front of her, over the half mooned, golden spectacles connected to a matching gold chain that rested on the bridge of her nose and smiled when she saw them.
“Sophie,” she beamed. “How are you?”
“I’m well, Mrs. Danbury,” she replied politely as she stepped further into the room.
“You must forgive me for not coming over to greet you, but I’ve found myself rather at odds with this infernal chair,” Agatha told her. “Poor Theo has had to roll me around the office or else I’d be stuck here permanently.”
“Oh, I’m welcome to help if you need ma’am,” Sophie quickly told her, trying to be helpful.
Agatha only waved her off. “I’m certain Theo can put up with me for a few more days, while I get the hang of this.”
As she spoke, Theo headed towards her, stepping behind her chair and helping to move her away from the desk and over to where Sophie was standing.
“Now, how’s Charles?” Agatha asked.
“He’s alright. I just dropped him off at St. Charlotte’s,” she answered. “Thank you again for suggesting it. And for helping Charles to get in!”
“It was no issue,” Agatha said. “Golda owes me a few favors, and a boy with your son’s brains deserves to go to a school that will nurture it.”
Agatha had taken a liking to Charles, ever since she’d first met him. Charles had been the one to keep her company while they were both stuck sharing a hospital room. Agatha with her broken femur, being scheduled for surgery, and Charles fighting off a bad case of strep that had turned into sepsis.
As horrible of a weekend as it had been for her at the time, it had also been the reason Sophie had gotten her job.
“You can leave your bag at your desk. I know Coral showed you where the break room is up here if you need to put anything in the fridge,” Agatha added. “Theo, if you wouldn’t mind. I need to stop by John’s office before the meeting.”
“Of course, Mrs. Danbury,” Theo replied and began pushing her chair out of the room.
Sophie followed, heading towards the desk outside of Agatha’s office, where she quickly threw off her coat and hung it off the back of the chair, before sliding her purse underneath the sleek, smooth desk she’d now be working at.
“Oh, Sophie! If you could be a dear and get the files on my desk downstairs to the conference room, that would be wonderful,” Agatha said, pointing towards the folders currently sitting on her desk. “I hate to throw you in the deep end like this but we have an upcoming case we need to debrief the other partners on and it has to be today. Once we are done with the meeting, I’ll give you the full rundown of your tasks for the day.”
Sophie nodded. “Of course.”
She returned quickly to Agatha’s desk to grab the files and made her way towards the elevator. The stack of folders was a large one, which left Sophie struggling a little to carry them through the hallway.
“I need you to bring those to the conference room on the fifth floor,” Agatha told her when she rejoined them. “I’ll meet you there once I’ve gone over a few matters with John.”
Sophie nodded as she stepped onto the elevator with them. Other than the sixth floor, she’d only briefly visited the third, and that was just to go see HR and sign documents. She hadn’t seen the other floors during her initial tour, and Coral had kept her to the sixth floor while she did her training.
She did however know that Bridgebury handled a multitude of issues from civil cases to public relations and consulting. Agatha was one of the founding partners, and the only remaining one to after the death of the co-founder.
“ Started it with my dear old friend, Edmund. Wonderful man ,” she had told her back in the hospital after they first met, while she was laying in her hospital bed. “ We built the place from the ground up .”
Edmund had passed years before, but his sons worked at the firm now, with some of his other children interning, and his family still held a major stake in the place. His eldest sons occupied two of the other office spaces on the same floor as Agatha’s along with two other partners. And for the most part, her training had been kept to the area outside of Agatha’s office on the sixth floor so she hadn’t met either one of them. Let alone see them.
“I’ll see you there,” Agatha informed her as the elevator arrived at the fifth floor.
The elevator door dinged as they opened and Sophie stepped out, glancing around for any kind of sign that would point her in the right direction. She turned to ask which way she should be going, only for the doors to have already shut behind her.
Damn .
On the gray painted wall in front of her spotted an arrow and the words “Conference Rooms” pointed towards her right and quickly headed that way, following any other signs that popped up as she did.
Checking the files were organized as she walked through the open spaced office this floor had and towards the conference rooms, Sophie glanced up to make sure she wasn’t going to run into anyone, giving a quick scan of the open spaced area as she did. She made the briefest of eye contact with a woman standing by a desk on the other side of the room and almost did a double take.
Was that…Posy?
Sophie frowned. Still moving in the direction of the conference room, and past where the woman had been standing, she quickly threw a glance over her shoulder just to make sure, but they were gone. Vanished into thin air. For a second, Sophie thought she’d imagined it.
But she could have sworn for a second she’d seen her former stepsister. And that said former stepsister had also seen her. But it wasn’t possible. She hadn’t seen Posy in years. What would she possibly be doing at Bridgebury?
With her mind distracted and her eyes averted from what was in front of her, Sophie turned the corner and–
Barreled straight into someone coming around from the other side.
The papers flew out of her arms as they collided, flying around them wildly like large, bland pieces of confetti as the folders she’d been holding slipped out of her grip and dropped like a stone to the ground. Sophie couldn’t be any more mortified. Cheeks burning, the awareness that multiple eyes were now on her, she quickly dropped to her knees and began grabbing what she’d dropped as fast as possible.
And, judging by the nice leather shoes and suit the body in front of her was wearing, she’d run into a man. The grunt of surprise she’d heard from them as they hit had also sounded rather masculine.
“I’m so sorry,” she quickly blurted out, rushing to grab the papers before he could. “I wasn’t looking–”
“No worries. It was my fault,” an all too familiar voice said gently and Sophie froze.
For a moment, she thought she’d misheard, that maybe her mind was just playing multiple vile tricks on her today, but she knew that voice. It was the same voice as the one that played on old voicemails she’d refused to delete. The voice that lingered in her dreams. The voice of a man she hadn’t seen or heard from in years. Who the last time she spoke to told her he wanted nothing to do with her.
And while she knew the only way to confirm if it was who she thought it was, Sophie found herself frozen in place. Muscles tensed and stiff, as if they’d turned to marble. Her body locked in place as she found herself unable to look up from the shiny, black, leather oxford shoes before her and confirm what she knew was standing before. Who was standing before her.
With her heart suddenly pounding a staccato beat against her sternum, Sophie finally forced her body to move, made her eyes look up and immediately caught the familiar, pale blue eyes of the last man she’d ever thought she’d see again.
Because standing before her was Charles’ father.
Benedict Bridgerton.