‘I paid my rent.
I bought groceries.
I sent money to my mother because she needs medication.
Then I used what was left for gas and parking because I believed you when you said you wanted to meet me.’
Ryan glanced around the restaurant.
Sophia’s voice never rose.
‘That five dollars doesn’t embarrass me.’
She pushed the bills back into her purse.
‘But sitting over there while someone waits for you because you’re afraid to tell the truth to her face? That should embarrass you.’
For the first time that night, Ryan had nothing ready to say.
The waiter stopped pretending not to listen.
Ryan’s face reddened.
‘I was trying to be practical.’
‘No,’ Sophia said.
‘You were trying to be invisible while you hurt somebody.’
The words landed harder on James than she knew.
For four years, invisibility had been Sophia’s daily position in his home.
Not because he had humiliated her.
Not because he had treated her badly.
Because he had rarely bothered to look closely enough to know who she was.
Ryan glanced at James and made one final attempt to recover his pride.
‘And what is this? Your boss coming to rescue you?’
Sophia looked at James.
Then she looked back at Ryan.
‘He didn’t rescue me.’
James’s eyes shifted toward her.
Sophia picked up her purse.
‘I answered you myself.’
Ryan stared at her for another moment before turning away.
As he passed the waiter, the waiter stepped aside without a word.
Ryan left the restaurant beneath the same quiet attention Sophia had endured when she arrived.
Only now, the stares followed him.
Sophia watched the door close.
The adrenaline disappeared almost immediately.
Her knees weakened.
James pulled out the empty chair.
‘Sit before you fall.’
Despite everything, Sophia laughed once.
It was small and shaky, but it was real.
‘I was actually trying to leave.’
‘I know.’
She looked toward his booth.
Contracts were still spread across the table.
‘Weren’t you meeting someone?’
‘Canceled.’
James nodded toward the chair.
‘I was about to spend the evening pretending contracts were good company.’
Sophia hesitated.
‘I don’t need charity, Mr.
Whitfield.’
‘I know that too.’
‘And I can’t afford this restaurant.’
James almost smiled.
‘I invited you to dinner.
That means I’m paying for dinner.
It does not mean you owe me anything before, during, or after it.’
