Sophia arched an eyebrow with a faint smile.
Ethan idly twirled his teacup between his fingers.
The atmosphere between them appeared cordial, yet undercurrents of tension swirled beneath the surface.
"Who knew Mr. Sullivan was such a skilled skater?" Sophia teased lightly. "Seems you've had plenty of practice."
Ethan lifted his gaze to hers. "You're the one full of surprises, Miss Sullivan."
On the ice, Sophia had been a different person.
That effortless grace wasn't something achieved overnight.
Sophia's lips curved. "Maybe I really was a professional skater in another life."
A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes.
Half-truth.
Years ago, someone had tried recruiting her for the national team.
But her ambitions lay elsewhere.
Ethan studied her.
This was the version of Sophia he loved most.
Sharp edges hidden beneath a veneer of docility.
Like a cat sheathing its claws.
"Truthfully, I never cared for skating," Ethan said abruptly.
Sophia tilted her head.
"After losing my memories as a child, I suddenly developed an interest in extreme sports."
The words struck a chord in Sophia.
She thought of Liam.
Also amnesiac. Also burdened with an absent father.
Yet their personalities couldn't be more different.
"Maybe someone taught you before the amnesia?" Sophia joked.
Ethan stilled.
A hazy image surfaced—a girl with a ponytail spinning across the ice.
He strained to see her face.
A sharp pain lanced through his skull.
"Mr. Sullivan?"
Sophia noticed his pallor.
Ethan gripped his forehead, knuckles whitening.
Cold sweat beaded at his temples.
"...An old problem."
He forced himself to drain his teacup.
Gradually, the pain subsided.
"It happens whenever I try to recall the past."
His tone was calm.
Sophia considered this.
"Perhaps your brain's protective mechanism."
She remembered the doctor's diagnosis for Liam.
Traumatic amnesia.
Painful memories deliberately locked away.
"Sometimes forgetting is kinder," Sophia murmured.
Some things were better left buried.
The boy who'd once promised to marry her.
Lost to time.
Ethan changed the subject. "There's something I'd like your help with."
"A charity auction next month."
"Hosted by Julian Roscente."
His eyes met hers. "I need an escort."
Sophia arched a brow.
"I don't have suitable company," Ethan added. "Just need someone to make an appearance."
His casual tone belied the tension in his fingers.
Sophia lowered her lashes in thought.
The auction might hold clues to her mother's missing heirloom.
"Alright," she agreed.
A flicker of satisfaction crossed Ethan's gaze.