CHAPTER 30
HENRY’S POV
The next day, Collins and I sat in my living room, sipping on our glasses of whiskey. The evening was calm, and the amber liquid in our glasses seemed to be doing its job in relaxing our weary souls.
"You know, Henry," Collins began, his voice slightly slurred from the whiskey, "I really think Kayla might be the one."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden declaration. "The one? You mean like the one you'll marry?"
Collins nodded, a goofy smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, man, I mean it. She's different, you know? She's got this charm that just draws you in."
I couldn't help but chuckle at his lovesick expression. "Well, that's great, Collins. I'm happy for you."
He took another sip of his whiskey and then turned the conversation in my direction. "So, Henry, what about you? Why aren't you dating anyone?"
I sighed, not entirely sure I wanted to delve into this topic. But Collins was persistent, and he knew me well enough not to let things slide.
"Look, I did go on a date recently," I confessed, swirling the whiskey in my glass absentmindedly.
Collins leaned in, clearly interested. "Oh yeah? Tell me about it."
I hesitated for a moment, then decided to share. "Her name's Layla the one we once taller about, I know I had not told you full details about it. We went out for dinner the night before you came ."
Collins grinned, thinking he was about to hear a juicy story. "And?"
"And I messed it up," I admitted with a sigh. "I like her, Collins, but not in that romantic way."
Collins frowned, clearly puzzled. "Wait, so you went on a date with her, but you don't want to date her?"
I nodded, trying to find the right words to explain my feelings. "Yeah, it's complicated. I mean, she's great, and I enjoy spending time with her, but there's just something missing. I can't put my finger on it."
Collins scratched his head, clearly perplexed by my explanation. "So, you're saying you want to be friends with her, but not more than that?"
I nodded again, relieved that he seemed to understand. "Exactly. I don't want to lead her on or give her false hope."
Collins took a thoughtful sip of his whiskey, then leaned back in his chair. "Well, Henry, you're a good guy for being honest about it. But maybe you'll find someone who ignites that spark for you someday."
I appreciated his understanding, even though it didn't solve my dating dilemma. "Yeah, maybe, Collins. For now, I'm content with how things are."
As Sophia strolled into the room, her presence was accompanied by an unexpected guest: Jason. He had that nonchalant grin on his face as she introduced him to Collins, my dear friend and Sophia's father. It felt like someone had just poured ice water down my spine.
"Dad, this is Jason," Sophia beamed, oblivious to the turmoil within me. "Jason, meet my dad, Collins."
I forced a polite smile, not trusting myself to speak just yet. Collins extended a friendly hand, greeting Jason warmly. "Nice to meet you, Jason. Sophia has told me a lot about you."
Sophia chimed in with an enthusiasm that made me grit my teeth. "Oh, you guys will get along just fine!"
Collins, always the gracious host, invited Jason to join us for dinner. I felt like I was in some kind of bizarre love triangle sitcom, and I certainly didn't appreciate being cast as the jealous, brooding character.
As we settled around the dinner table, the atmosphere grew tenser with each passing second. Kayla joined us too, her presence acting as an aggravating factor in my internal struggle. I couldn't let my emotions show, so I kept my gaze fixed on my plate, slicing my steak with more aggression than necessary.
Collins, always one to keep the conversation flowing, turned the topic to Sophia and Jason. My stomach churned with every word they exchanged, their laughter an irritant to my already frayed nerves.
"So, Sophia, how did you and Jason meet?" Collins asked, a curious glint in his eye.
Sophia looked at Jason with a mischievous twinkle. "We're in the same class at UCLA. We bumped into each other at the library, and he offered to help me with some research."
Jason nodded, his grin as infuriating as ever. "Yep, it was pretty much a case of serendipity."
Kayla chimed in, her voice overly sweet. "That sounds wonderful, Sophia. College is a great place to make friends."
I clenched my fork, feeling the urge to say something, anything, to assert my presence. But I knew I had to keep my composure. After all, it wasn't a crime for Sophia to have friends, even if that friend happened to be Jason.
As the conversation continued, it was abundantly clear that Sophia and Jason were developing a bond, much to my displeasure. Their shared stories of college life, inside jokes, and friendly banter fueled the growing fire of jealousy within me.
I couldn't help but wonder if Collins was enjoying the show, observing his daughter's interactions with a keen eye. Kayla, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by the tension in the room, sipping her wine and occasionally interjecting with a polite comment.
By the time dessert arrived, I couldn't bear it any longer. I excused myself from the table, citing a sudden headache as my reason. In reality, my head was throbbing from the internal battle of emotions.
I retreated to the living room, hoping the solitude would help clear my mind. As I sank into an armchair, I couldn't escape the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my head. The jealousy, the insecurity, and the fear of losing Sophia were all consuming me.
I knew I had to confront these emotions, but for now, all I could do was sit in silence and hope that dinner would conclude sooner rather than later.
After that eventful dinner, I couldn't wait any longer. I had to confront Sophia about her charade with Jason. I needed to know why she was lying to her own father. It gnawed at me like a persistent itch I couldn't ignore.
I knocked on her door, and she reluctantly let me in. Her room was a sanctuary of her personality – colorful, a tad messy, but undoubtedly hers. She looked at me with a mix of curiosity and wariness as I entered.
I didn't mince words. "Sophia, why are you lying to your father about dating Jason, I thought you were going to tell him the truth after our conversation last night?"
Her expression shifted from curiosity to defensiveness. "Why do you care, Henry?"
I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my temper in check. "Because he's your father, Sophia. He deserves to know the truth."
She scoffed, her arms folded defensively across her chest. "And what will that change, huh? He'll just get worried and start asking questions, and I don't need that."
I stepped closer, our faces mere inches apart. "Sophia, you can't keep lying to him like this. It's not fair to him, and it's certainly not fair to you."
Her gaze bore into mine, a storm of emotions swirling in her eyes. "What do you care about what's fair to me?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge. I hesitated for a moment, grappling with my own feelings. Finally, I answered, my voice softer. "Because, Sophia, I care about you. More than I should."
For a fleeting second, it seemed like something shifted between us. The charged atmosphere crackled with unspoken desire. We were so close, teetering on the precipice of something that had been building between us for far too long.
But then, as if snapping back to reality, I stepped away from her, breaking the intense connection. "I just don't want to see you get hurt," I muttered, my voice strained.
Sophia blinked, as if coming out of a daze. "Henry..."
I interrupted her. "Forget it, Sophia. Just... promise me you'll talk to your father. He deserves the truth."
She nodded slowly, her gaze still locked with mine, but the moment had passed. I turned and left her room, shutting the door behind me. My heart was pounding, and my mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
As I retreated to my own room, I couldn't help but replay that moment in my head, the one where we were so close to crossing a line that neither of us could return from. But I had held back, because I knew that we couldn't go down that path.
It wasn't just about her father. It was about the tangled mess we found ourselves in, the unspoken desires, and the undeniable attraction. It was about the undeniable fact that we were both caught in something far more complicated than we could handle.
And so, I retreated to my room, locking the door behind me, hoping that the solitude would help me regain some semblance of control over my emotions. But deep down, I knew that this was just the beginning of a storm that was brewing between us, one that threatened to consume everything in its path.