Mummy, Daddy wants you back

Sophia’s world spiraled out of control the moment Hannah let out a dramatic cry, collapsing onto the marble floor.

Her breath hitched as the shattering of glass echoed in the hallway, quickly followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. Ryan appeared, his expression thunderous, as his gaze darted between the sisters.

“What the fuck, Sophia! What’s wrong with you?” he barked, his voice reverberating through the hallway.

Sophia flinched at his tone, her mind spinning as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“I-I didn’t even do any—”

Before she could finish, Joanne, her stepmother, appeared, her face twisted in fury.

“What the hell is going on here?” Joanne’s sharp gaze landed on Sophia, and her lips curled in disgust.

“What did you do to Hannah?!”

“I didn’t push her! I swear, I didn’t!” Sophia’s voice trembled, but the truth seemed to dissolve under the weight of their accusing stares.

“You’re a liar!” Joanne spat, her hand raised to strike.

Before the slap could land, Ryan’s hand shot out, gripping Joanne’s wrist with enough force to make her gasp.

His dark eyes blazed with anger as he growled,

“Sophia made a mistake, and she’ll make up for it. But she’s still my wife. No one is allowed to lay a finger on her.”

“What?” Joanne’s eyes widened into saucers. She couldn't believe Ryan was defending his wife.

The hallway fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Joanne’s mouth opened and closed, words failing her as she stepped back, clearly stunned by Ryan’s defense.

It was the first time he had defended her publicly and it made her heart flutter with a little hope. But that bubble was busted by a loud cry.

Sophia’s own shock mirrored Hannah’s. Her gaze flickered to Ryan, searching for a shred of understanding, but his face remained cold and unreadable.

“Ryan,” Hannah whimpered from the floor, her tear-streaked face tilted up at him as she clutched her ankle. “Please, help me. It hurts so much.”

Ryan’s hardened expression softened as he turned to Hannah, crouching down to scoop her up in his arms. His touch was gentle, his voice tender in a way he had never been with Sophia.

Sophia’s heart twisted painfully at the sight. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but Ryan’s flat tone in his voice cut her off.

“Go home, Sophia,” he ordered without sparing her a glance. “You’ve caused enough trouble for one night.”

Her throat tightened as the humiliation washed over her. The eyes of the guests, filled with disdain and judgment, followed her every move as she stood glued to the floor her feet feeling like fucking lead and too heavy to move.

Everyone turned and left leaving only her and Joane on the scene. She folded his arms across her chest as she stepped closer,

“Just because he defended you doesn't mean shit. He probably did it because I'm Hannah’s mother. Now run along.”

“You and your daughter surely try really hard. But you know one thing, you'll always have leftovers. Just like my late mum left dad for you that's how your daughter will get Ryan. Used and finished. Now if you'll excuse me!” She brushed past her.

“You little!-” Sophia was already walking out the door.

…….

Back at the cold, empty house, Sophia sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as she stared at the clock on the nightstand.

Each tick seemed louder than the last, the sound filling the oppressive silence of the room. She clung to a fragile thread of hope, telling herself that Ryan would come home, that he’d explain, that there was some rational explanation for his actions.

But as the hours dragged on, that hope crumbled.

Her phone buzzed, breaking the stillness. Sophia grabbed it quickly, her heart leaping, but her breath caught in her throat as she opened the message.

The screen displayed a photo of Hannah and Ryan in bed together.

Hannah was curled against his bare chest, her face glowing with satisfaction. Ryan’s shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his toned torso and his arm rested possessively around Hannah’s waist with his eyes closed.

Sophia’s stomach churned, bile rising to her throat.

A second message followed:

“Told you he’s mine!”

Sophia’s hands shook so violently that she nearly dropped the phone. Her vision blurred with tears as the weight of Hannah’s words—and the damning evidence—crushed what little remained of her hope.

She curled into herself, sobs wracking her body as her world shattered into pieces around her. Every whispered insult, every dismissive glance, every betrayal slammed into her with brutal clarity. She had been a fool to think she could ever be more than a placeholder in Ryan’s life.

After what seemed like hours, Sophia wiped her tears, her jaw tightening as she stared at the photo one last time before dialing a number,

“Miss Frost, is something wrong?” Anderson, her lawyer asked in concern.

“Yes, I need you to draft divorce papers for me tonight.”