Revenge is best served cold (Jane and Jeremiah novel Chapter 1895

The photograph captured Sophie with a beaming smile, while he stood awkwardly beside her, unable to take his eyes off her. He couldn’t deny it—he didn’t dislike Sophie at all; in fact, he was quite fond of her. But the depth of his feelings was starting to weigh heavily on him. “Why does it have to be you?” Harold muttered to himself. Yes, he liked Sophie, but his love for his brother ran deeper.

With a sigh, Harold placed the photo back on the table and headed towards the door. Just then, Sophie appeared in the doorway, almost as if she’d been waiting there. Her hand was raised, about to knock. “Were you just on your way out for dinner? I was about to call you,” she said with her usual playful tone. Whenever they had a spat, Sophie was always the first to make peace, and once he seemed calm, she'd start her playful teasing again. That was the Sophie he’d always adored.

“I’m skipping dinner. You go ahead,” Harold said, brushing past her. Deep down, he knew that in Sophie’s heart, he didn't quite measure up to his brother. She saw him as family, not as someone she had romantic feelings for.

Harold hesitated briefly outside Gordon’s study. The door was shut, and after a moment of uncertainty, he pushed it open and stepped inside. Gordon appeared to have been expecting him. After a pause, Harold admitted, “Brother, I like Sophie.”

“And then?” Gordon asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips as if he’d already guessed what Harold was going to say.

“Harold, if you want something, you’ve got to fight for it, not just give up,” Gordon advised with a gentle smile. “But I think you already know what you really want.”

Harold nodded. “Even though I like her, I know she only sees me as family. And... to me, you're the most important person in the world.”

Gordon simply exchanged a warm smile with Harold, saying nothing more.

Meanwhile, Sophie wandered into the living room, puzzled by the empty space and untouched dining table. “What’s going on today? Why does everything feel so off?” she wondered aloud. Turning to the housekeeper, she asked, “Is Harold really not having dinner tonight?”

“I checked with him. Mr. Harold said he wasn’t eating tonight,” the housekeeper replied.