Ryan Lawrence stepped toward Sophia Sullivan.
He stopped before her, leaning down slightly.
His hand reached out, attempting to take hers again.
"Sophia, I've missed you."
His voice carried warmth like sunlight.
Ian was gentle and accommodating.
But Ryan was like an eager puppy.
When he smiled, his eyes curved into crescents.
As if a pat on the head from Sophia would make his tail wag.
His expression turned pitiful as he spoke those words.
Ethan Sullivan didn't release Sophia's hand.
"Ryan, this isn't the place for your antics."
His tone was icy.
"Don't touch what isn't yours."
Ethan's gaze bore into Ryan, dark and fathomless as an abyss.
Yet Ryan grasped Sophia's other wrist.
His smile remained pure and harmless.
"Antics? Hardly."
"Sophia and I go way back. Catching up is only natural."
He blinked, feigning innocence.
"Ethan, I don't think you get a say in this."
Turning to Sophia, he added,
"We're the real friends here, right?"
Each man held one of her wrists.
Neither applied force.
But their locked stares were sharp as blades.
The distant clamor of the gala surrounded them.
Behind them, waves crashed against the shore.
The tension pressed down on Sophia.
Her face remained shadowed.
It was clear.
Two men, locked in silent combat.
Both watching her.
Waiting for her choice in the heavy silence.
Sophia chose neither.
"If you two have so much free time, discuss how to make friends."
She withdrew her hands smoothly.
"I have matters to attend to. Excuse me."
She turned and walked away, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Ryan froze.
Realization dawned—he might have overstepped.
"Sophia, I'm sorry."
His apology was sincere.
"I was just... too excited. That was rude of me."
"I didn't mean to offend you."
It was the truth.
Over the years, Ryan's attitude toward Sophia had shifted completely.
From rebellious defiance to devoted admiration.
Learning of her marriage had frustrated him, but it clarified his feelings.
He'd even resigned himself to being the other man.
As long as it was Sophia, labels didn't matter.
Now, divorced and reunited, it felt surreal.
Under the moonlight, Sophia's expression was unreadable.
She didn't respond directly.
"Attend the gala first. We'll talk later."
Ryan's eyes curved into crescents again.
"Okay!"
The troublemaker became docile in her presence.
Ethan downed his tequila in one go.
"I have nothing to discuss with strangers."
"The gala is starting. Let's go."
Ryan adopted an even more innocent look.
"How enviable, Ethan."
"Unlike me—I'm hopeless at everything."
"Terrible with women, can't even master a simple waltz."
"No date tonight either."
His lashes fluttered, gaze damp and pleading.
"Sophia, mind if I join you two?"
Ethan said nothing.