(Jared's POV)
My hands trembled as I closed the diary, barely processing the words still echoing in my mind. Just then, I heard footsteps outside the door, snapping me out of my daze.
The door creaked open, and Sofia strode in, her face already set in its usual frown. She stopped when she saw me, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Sofia," I rasped, my throat tight, "we need to talk."
She paused, eyebrows raised. "What’s this about?"
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I held up the diary. "Do you recognize this?"
Her eyes flickered—recognition, maybe fear—but she quickly masked it with indifference. "No. Why would I?"
"I think you do," I said, my voice low but steady. "Look closer."
She hesitated, taking the diary from my hands, her fingers brushing over the worn cover. "It’s just a diary, Jared." She pushed it back to me, dismissively. "Where did you find this?"
I ignored her question. "Did you hide it?"
Her eyes darted, the discomfort obvious now. "Why would I hide something like that? We’re divorced, Jared. Why is Arielle’s stuff still even here? Haven’t you moved on?"
"That’s not the answer to my question." My voice hardened, frustration boiling just beneath the surface.
Sofia’s lips tightened, and then she sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. "Fine. I was trying to protect you, Jared. I didn’t want you to keep dwelling on the past, on her. What’s the point? She’s gone, you have me now."
"Protect me?" I scoffed, unable to believe her audacity. "From what? From remembering how much I screwed up my marriage? From realizing what kind of man I became?"
She blinked, visibly startled by the intensity of my words. "I was just trying to help—"
"You tore out the pages, Sofia," I interrupted, my voice sharper now. "You had the key to this diary. What were on those pages?"
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