Chapter 122
Brandon took a quick glance at the photo
Sophia was in the crowd, rocking an oatmeal cocoon cashmere coat that was loose and simple, yet youthfully stylish.
She didn’t bother with a scarf, showing off a glimpse of her fair, slender neck with a well-defined collarbone, no hint of a baby bump in sight.
Her face was just as calm and obedient as ever, with a subtle intellectual vibe. Her getup was low-key, but she still managed to turn heads in the crowd.
If the kid was still around, Sophia would’ve been about 7, pushing 8 months pregnant in February, but he couldn’t tell from the photo.
“There are a few more shots,” Marian said, swiping to the next one.
It was a candid shot of the scene.
Everyone was either looking up or turning to discuss the architecture.
Sophia’s back was caught on camera too, standing alone under a tall building, gazing up at the top, her right hand pointing at something with a pen.
Even in her loose cocoon coat, you could tell she had a slim waist from the silhouette it created.
Her wrists and ankles, not hidden by the coat, were as delicate as a young girl’s.
Even though he expected it, seeing the photo still stirred a faint sense of loss in Brandon.
Marian didn’t miss the look of disappointment on his face and asked curiously, “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Brandon shook his head, looking at her, “Was Sophia any different back then?”
“Not a bit,” Marian said, puzzled, “It’s all the same. Classes, after-school stuff, fieldwork she was seriously into her studies, no different from usual.”
Still puzzled, she asked, “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious,” Brandon replied, handing back the phone, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” Marian chuckled, taking her phone back.
Brandon glanced at his watch and looked back at Louis, who kept peeping out of the house, “Grandpa Louis, I gotta head back.”
“You just got here, what’s the rush?” Louis came out with his cane, “Yolanda’s not home often, why not stay and chat?”
“No, I can’t.” Brandon declined, “Just had a bit of business with Ms. Barlow.”
He didn’t linger, said his goodbyes to Louis, and drove off.
Back home, he bumped into Don hanging by his front door with a few bottles of booze.
Brandon eyed him, “What are you doing here?”
“I figured someone might be tossing and turning tonight, and I’m too choked up to sleep myself,” Don said, waving a bottle of fine liquor as Brandon exited the elevator, “We’re in the same boat, so why not have a drink together?”
Brandon gave him a look, “Why are you drowning your sorrows? It’s not your lady.”
“Didn’t someone suggest I should marry her?, Here I am, barely started, and I’m already shot down. Let me mourn a bit.”
Brandon turned, eyeing him thoughtfully, “You’re not seriously into Sophia, are you?”
“Why not? You two are divorced.”
“Try it and you’ll see what will happen.”
Don grimaced.
He didn’t dare try. Friends’ exes are off-limits, and even if he had the guts, he couldn’t handle it.
Sophia’s tough, no-nonsense attitude was wearing him down; he just wanted to keep a talent.
“How did we both fall for the same woman?” Don sighed, watching as Brandon’s thumb pressed the fingerprint lock.
Brandon ignored him, thumb on the lock, door opened.
He let himself in, followed by Don, who made himself at home, grabbing two glasses from the liquor cabinet, filling them up, and
handing one to Brandon, “Fancy a drink?”
Brandon took it with a glance, downed it in one go, and slammed the glass on the table with a “thud,” his cold eyes on Don, “What’s your angle?”
“I’m heartbroken,” Don exaggeratedly clutched his chest, “You know how much I loved Sophia’s Zenithan-style resort design? If not for you, even if she didn’t want the design director job, she would’ve seen that resort through. Now look.”
Don spread his hands. “Why did I bet on the wrong horse? What did you do to her that she’s so determined to stay away, even paying to do it?”
Brandon looked at him, silent, grabbed the uncapped bottle and topped himself off, downing it again.
Don watched, claiming heartache but leisurely sipping his drink.
“Not gonna spill about your story?” he asked, watching Brandon’s empty glass get refilled.
“No story,” Brandon replied flatly.
Don pouted, took a slow sip, and looked at him, “I heard you didn’t reach out to Sylvia?”
“No need.”
“Sure about that?” Don raised an eyebrow, “I knew Sophia couldn’t be pregnant. Just look at her.”
Brandon stayed silent.
“Sylvia and Sophia are tight, always together in class. She said Sophia wasn’t pregnant. People close to a pregnant woman would notice, right? Plus, having a kid takes time,” Don said.
Brandon’s eyes shot over, “Have you talked to her?”
