Chapter 53
Aria’s POV
I sit at a corner table in the café, drumming my fingers on the wooden surface. I’ve been here for fifteen minutes already, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee as I wait for Sophia.
It’s been long enough for my frustration to build, and the longer I wait, the more certain I am that this conversation won’t go smoothly.
When Sophia finally walks in, she’s late—as usual. She spots me, her expression flat as she heads to the table without so much as a smile.
She’s dressed to perfection, her hair immaculately styled, her outfit spotless, but there’s an edge to her, a kind of defensive energy that she doesn’t even try to hide.
"Sorry I’m late," she says without any real apology in her tone, sliding into the seat across from me. "Got caught up in something."
"Of course," I reply, trying to keep my voice even, though the irritation simmers just beneath the surface. "Thanks for coming."
She doesn’t respond, just flicks her eyes down at the coffee menu before tossing it aside like she couldn’t care less.
"So," she says, leaning back in her chair, "what did you want to talk about?"
I hesitate for only a second before diving in. "It’s about William."
The second the words leave my mouth, her posture stiffens. Her lips press into a thin line, and I can practically see the walls going up.
"What about him?" she asks, her voice already defensive.
I take a deep breath, pushing forward despite the tension. "I’ve noticed that he’s been spending a lot of time with Joe and me recently. I know you’ve been busy, and I get it, but—"
Sophia cuts me off with a sharp wave of her hand. "He’s fine, Aria. He’s a kid, kids are resilient. He’s just happy to have a friend. What exactly are you implying?"
I keep my voice steady, though my patience is wearing thin.
"I’m saying he needs more from you, Sophia. I’ve seen how much he looks up to you, how much he wants your attention, and he’s not getting it. He’s been spending more and more time at my house because he’s looking for something you’re not giving him."
Sophia’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think she’s going to storm out right then and there. But she stays, though the tension radiating from her is palpable.
"Are you seriously lecturing me on how to raise my own son?" she snaps, her voice cold. "You’ve known him for what, a couple of months? And now you think you know what’s best for him?"
I hold her gaze, refusing to back down.
"It’s not about that. It’s about what I’m seeing, what I’m hearing from him. He’s not just ‘fine.’ He’s lonely, and he’s hurting, and you’re not paying attention."
Sophia’s eyes flash with anger, and she leans forward, her voice low and sharp.
"You know what I think? I think this isn’t about William at all. I think you’re just trying to distract me from Liam so you can have him all to yourself."
I blink, momentarily stunned by the accusation. "What? This has nothing to do with Liam—"
"Doesn’t it?" she shoots back, her tone biting.
"You’ve been circling him for months, pretending like you’re not interested, but we both know the truth. You’re just waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and take him, and now you’re using my son as an excuse to get close to me."
Her words hit me like a slap, but I don’t let it show. I straighten in my chair, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination.
"This isn’t about Liam," I say firmly. "And you know it. I’m just trying to help William, but if you can’t see that, then maybe you’re not as concerned about your son as you think you are."
Sophia stands up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"You don’t know anything about me or my son," she hisses. "Stay out of my business, Aria. You have no right to meddle in our lives."
With that, she turns on her heel and storms out of the café, leaving me sitting there, frustrated but undeterred.
I watch her go, my hands clenched into fists beneath the table. This isn’t over, not by a long shot. William deserves better than what she’s giving him, and if I have to keep pushing, I will.
Later that evening, Logan pulls up in front of my house to pick me up for our date.
I’m still fuming from my earlier encounter with Sophia, but I push it aside as I climb into his car, giving him a small smile.
"Hey," he says, glancing over at me as he pulls away from the curb. "Everything okay?"
I shrug. "Rough day. But I’m fine."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not really," I admit, sinking back into the seat. "I’d rather just focus on tonight."
He nods, respecting my choice, and the car falls into a comfortable silence as we head toward the boardwalk.
When we arrive, the sun is just beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the water. The air smells like salt and popcorn, and the sound of distant laughter fills the air.
It’s the perfect atmosphere for a relaxing evening, but there’s still an awkward tension between us as we walk side by side.
Logan seems to sense it too because he stops suddenly in front of a row of game booths and smirks at me. "How about a challenge?"
I raise an eyebrow, curious. "What kind of challenge?"
He gestures toward a booth where players are trying to knock over bottles with a baseball. "Loser buys the next round of drinks."
I cross my arms, eyeing the booth skeptically. "You’re on."
We approach the booth, and Logan pays for our turns. He goes first, stepping up with an exaggerated air of confidence.
He throws the first ball—misses. The second one barely grazes the bottles, and by the third, I’m laughing so hard I can hardly breathe.
"Not as easy as it looks, huh?" I tease.
Logan shakes his head, grinning. "I’m just warming up."
When it’s my turn, I step up to the line, determined to show him how it’s done. I wind up, throw the first ball—and miss.
But by the second, I’ve got the hang of it, and I manage to knock down half the bottles. Logan cheers sarcastically, clapping like it’s the most impressive thing he’s ever seen.
"Alright, alright," he says, chuckling. "You win this one."
I laugh, the tension between us melting away as we move on to the next game. By the time we finish, we’re both giddy and lighthearted, our earlier awkwardness long forgotten.
As we walk back toward my house, Logan is still teasing me about my victory, making me laugh with his ridiculous commentary.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this relaxed, and I can’t help but appreciate how easy it is to be around him.
When we reach my front door, the mood shifts slightly. Logan turns to face me, his expression softening as he stuffs his hands into his pockets.
"Hey, I just want to say..." he starts, his voice quieter now, "I’m sorry. For everything. I know things didn’t exactly start out the right way between us, and that’s on me. But I’m glad we’ve been able to... I don’t know, move past it?"
I nod, feeling a pang of something—guilt, maybe, or regret. "Yeah. Me too."
For a moment, we just stand there, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Then, Logan steps closer, his eyes searching mine.
Before I know it– he leans down, eyes half lidded. I can feel the puffs of his breath on my bottom lip, his face mere inches from mine.
I want to lean in, but something stops me. It doesn’t feel right.
Logan seems to notice, pausing in place. He just looks at me.
"You’re still going to pick him, huh?" he asks softly, his tone sad but accepting. "Even after everything he’s done to you."
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I don’t. Instead, I just look at him, the silence between us saying more than I ever could.
Logan gives a small, bittersweet smile and reaches for my hand, lifting it to his lips to kiss the top of it gently instead.
"Goodnight, Aria," he says quietly, letting go of my hand before turning and walking away.
I stand there on my stoop, watching him go, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me once again.
