Chapter 1 The Promise Of Tomorrow

• PROLOGUE
• SOFIE
• I stood in the penthouse suite on the 124th floor, staring at James Alexander Reed, a man I barely knew, who now held the title of my husband.
• Just hours ago, I was a jilted bride.
• One signature. One decision. And my future didn’t belong to me anymore. It belonged to a stranger.
• He was tall. Imposing. The kind of man who stepped into a room and silenced it before saying a word. His green eyes didn’t just look at me. They stripped something away. My pulse thudded. Too fast. Too loud.
• Is it fear? Fascination? God... both.
• The way he held himself, like nothing could touch him, should’ve made me want to run. It didn’t. I felt steadier somehow. Which made no sense.
• There was something buried deep in him. Controlled. Restrained. You had to really look to catch it. But I was looking. And I didn’t know why, but that quiet control made me feel safer than I should’ve felt.
• Then it hit me.
• All of it.
• The exhaustion. The disappointment. The sick twist of disbelief that curled low and sharp inside me.
• This wasn’t the wedding I’d dreamed about. The one I’d pictured since I was five had turned cold and wrong and nothing like love.
• I was supposed to feel joy. Or hope. Or something.
• But all I felt was a dull ache where those things were supposed to live.
• And I couldn’t even figure out how I’d gotten here.
• This was real now. There was no undoing it.
• I was married.
• Not to someone I trusted.
• Not to someone I knew.
• Not to someone I loved.
• The words he’d spoken echoed sharp and final.
• "It’s done."
• He hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t needed to.
• It filled the room anyway.
• I’d watched his hands, steady and unhurried, as he folded the marriage certificate and handed it to his lawyer. Like he’d just signed off on a deal. Not a life.
• Too late now.
• I turned to the glass wall behind me and pressed my palms against it. Cold. Unmoving.
• Below, New York stretched in every direction. Loud and glittering and alive. And I stood sealed above it. Apart from it. Not belonging to it anymore.
• My eyes blurred. The skyline smudged, soft, and useless.
• Up here, there was nothing. No sirens. No footsteps. Not even the hum of traffic. The city’s voice couldn’t reach me through all this glass and altitude.
• Only silence. Only steel.
• Like the world had dropped away, and I was the last one left.
• I felt untethered. Like a paper boat drifting in black water. One current away from disappearing completely.
• The future unrolled in front of me. Blank. Shapeless.
• No map. No voice guiding me forward.
• The wind slipped between the buildings. I couldn’t hear it, but I knew it was there. Tugging at the edges of me. Like it wanted to carry me somewhere.
• Somewhere far from where I thought I was supposed to be.
• And that’s what scared me most.
• Not the man.
• Not the silence.
• The part of me that wasn’t sure I wanted to go back.
• * * *
• Yesterday - 5:00 PM EST.
• The oncology department buzzed with a strange kind of energy.
• The usual heaviness of grief, diagnosis, and waiting felt duller today. It pressed lighter somehow, softened around the edges.
• Something unspoken ran beneath everything. Smiles. Hushed congratulations. A little more light in people’s voices.
• And somehow, it was about me.
• Sofie Davis.
• Bride-to-be.
• The wedding checklist spun in my head. Relentless. Looping. Chewing through every quiet second. I moved through the corridor on autopilot. Smile. Nod. Speak. Keep moving.
• But Andrew’s voice stayed at the edge of it all. Not what he said. How he said it. Too measured. Too neutral.
• Like it was supposed to sound perfect.
• But something felt... off.
• A thread out of place.
• And I couldn’t stop pulling it.
• The elevator chimed. Each ping felt like a countdown.
• Closer to the life I’d waited for.
• Closer to Andrew.
• But part of me stayed back. Not all in. Not really.
• A week ago. The ring fitting.
• The jeweler smiled as he slid the band onto Andrew’s finger. Asked if he wanted something engraved inside. A phrase. A date. A name.
• Andrew stared at the ring like it meant something else.
• Not love. Not commitment. Something colder.
• The silence stretched. Too long.
• "No," he said finally. Clipped. Eyes unreadable.
• His jaw locked tight.
• I’d laughed, said something about how unromantic he was. He smiled. Kissed my cheek.
• But the moment had landed wrong. Flat in my chest before I understood why.
• And now it looped in my head. That pause. That no.
• It hadn’t been empty.
• It had been full of something he didn’t say.
• Why didn’t I listen harder?
• The elevator doors opened. Clean. Gleaming. Quiet.
• The gateway to the life I thought I understood.
• Still, I hesitated.
• Because that silence, his silence, was suddenly louder than everything else.
• But nothing had happened since. No big red flags. No second pause. Just Andrew. Steady. Focused.
• So I shook it off.
• Tomorrow, I was marrying him.
• That had to mean everything was okay.
• * * *
• JAMES
• I leaned against the elevator wall. Still. Calm on the outside.
• Inside, my muscles stayed tight. Every one of them.
• My eyes stayed fixed on her.
• Sofie.
• She smiled. Quiet. Polished. Tranquil in a way that made my chest ache.
• I was close enough to see the freckles on her nose. Close enough to see how far away she still felt.
• How can she be this close and still feel so far?
• My pulse kicked hard. She didn’t even glance at me. I was no one. Just another face in the crowd.
• A colleague spoke beside her. "Excited about the big day tomorrow?"
• Her smile widened. "Yes. I can’t wait. I just hope everything goes as planned."
• Her voice was sunlight. Her words, a dagger.
• The door slammed shut on whatever chance I thought I had.
• It echoed louder than I cared to admit.
• I clenched my jaw. The quiet hope I’d let grow inside me cracked in two.
• Stephen had warned me. Showed me her background. Her schedule. Her kindness. Told me it was just for the deal. For the hospital.
• But I’d known the truth the whole time.
• It was about her.
• A few more people stepped in on the third floor. I moved to the side. She stepped back. Her shoulder grazed my chest.
• She looked up, startled. "Oh. I’m sorry."
• I swallowed. "No problem."
• Her perfume lingered. Clean. Feminine.
• It wrapped around me like a memory.
• She turned away. I shut my eyes. Held on to the feeling. Filed it somewhere I could keep it.
• Unspoken words clawed at my chest. I didn’t let them out.
• My heart still wanted her. But my mind already knew.
• She was about to marry someone else.
• My time was up.
• I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
• Her happiness is what matters. That has to be enough.
• The elevator opened. She walked out.
• The hospital doors parted. And she disappeared.
• Swept into the chaos of the city, like a leaf caught in a stream.
• Swept into her future.
• While I remained fixed in place, wrapped in silence, breaking apart as I watched her disappear.
• Her life surged forward, full of plans and promises.
• Mine stood still. Quiet. Empty.