I Walked Away Seven Years Too Late But Right on Time novel Chapter 217

Half a month later, Luke took an early flight back from New York City and headed straight to the office, only to find Sophie's desk empty.

His assistant informed him that Sophie had taken the morning off. When she finally returned at noon, he called her into his office and demanded to know where she had been.

"My stomach was acting up. I went to the hospital to get some medicine," she murmured, keeping her eyes glued to the floor, showing absolutely no joy at his early return.

"Is your period late? Do you want to go home and rest?"

He knew she suffered from terrible cramps, but judging by the calendar, it should have ended while he was away on his business trip.

A conflicted look flashed across her face before she silently shook her head. "That's not it."

"Is it a hangover? Did you go out drinking again?" His tone sharpened with irritation.

She had been so evasive lately. He hated trying to guess a woman's thoughts, and he hated it even more when she went out drinking.

When he got home that evening and asked for a home-cooked meal, she simply stated that she hadn't bought groceries in days.

He opened the fridge to find it practically barren—just a few cartons of milk and not a single egg in sight.

There was some frozen shrimp in the freezer, so he told her to make shrimp porridge.

Watching her move around the kitchen, it looked the same as always, yet entirely different.

In the past, she would glance back at him while cooking and flash him a brilliant smile. This time, she just stared blankly at the simmering pot for an unsettling amount of time.

She rarely ate out, and the fridge was always stocked with fresh ingredients. Where had she been eating lately, and with whom?

Two days before her birthday, Eileen, Victoria Harper, and his mother Eleanor flew in for a custom gown fitting.

He rushed to pick them up from the airport, calling Sophie into his office to tell her he had errands to run and wouldn't be home for dinner.

She simply nodded, said she understood, and walked out.

She had always been professional in the office, but there used to be a hidden warmth in her eyes, a cute little pout when she was unhappy about his evening plans.

That day, she just stared at the floor, making it impossible for him to read her emotions.

On her actual birthday, Eileen called him, saying she was shopping near his office building and wanted to come up.

Luke quickly shut it down, claiming he was just about to head out. He grabbed his coat, told Sophie not to wait for him for dinner, and rushed downstairs to intercept Eileen.

As it turned out, Sophie really didn't wait for him. She went out with someone else—a young man.

Running into them on the street by pure chance, Luke couldn't even describe the rage that boiled in his chest.

After finally shaking Eileen off, he didn't bother calling Sophie. He just stormed back to the apartment, seething.

When he opened the door, the living room was dark, save for a single candle burning on the kitchen island.

He flipped on the lights to see Sophie sitting on the counter in her nightgown, covering her eyes with one hand.

"Drinking again," Luke muttered, striding over to snatch the wine bottle and glass away from her.

She barely gave it a glance, offering a dry, "Thank you."

Now, even a lavish gift couldn't coax a genuine smile out of her.

"Let me put it on you."

He swallowed his frustration, desperately trying not to ruin her birthday completely.

He fastened the necklace around her throat, his fingers lingering on her smooth skin, trailing down to her collarbone. Just as his fingers brushed the strap of her nightgown, she jerked away.

She reached behind her neck and unclasped the jewelry. "It's too cold. I don't like it."

She dropped it back into the box and looked at him. "Didn't you ever think of getting me a ring?"

Her tone was casual, almost entirely indifferent, but it made his chest tighten with inexplicable irritation.

Ever since they got back from St. Moritz, he had wanted to ask her if she would still be willing to live with him and maintain their current arrangement after he got married. But he could never bring himself to say the words.

He knew that the second he asked, she would pack her bags. He would rather drag it out, waiting until the literal day before his wedding to face it.

Instead, he forced a laugh. "What, isn't this arrangement good enough? You know I'm terrified of marriage, so let's drop it. If you ever find someone you want to spend your life with, I won't force you to stay. You can leave anytime."

"Leave anytime?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes locking onto his.

He pretended not to hear the underlying devastation in her voice. "Run a bath for me."