Hell Hath no fury like a billionaire's Ex-Chapter 74: Rekindling

Sophie’s POV

The café was tucked away on a quiet side street, the kind of place that attracted more locals than tourists. I’d chosen it deliberately for its privacy—small tables spaced far apart, soft music playing in the background to muffle conversations. I arrived early, claiming a booth in the back corner, as far from the windows as possible.

My mother entered fifteen minutes later, her eyes scanning the room until they found me. She looked older somehow, the lines around her eyes more pronounced, her shoulders slightly stooped. The weight of decades of deception, I supposed. The weight of our broken family.

She slid into the booth across from me, setting her purse on the seat beside her. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the air between us thick with unspoken words and shared history.

"You’re okay," she said finally, relief evident in her voice. "I was worried."

"I’m fine," I assured her, though "fine" was perhaps the least accurate word for how I felt. Exhausted, terrified, guilt-ridden—but physically unharmed. "Thank you for coming."

She reached across the table, her hand hovering uncertainly before settling over mine. "What happened with Liam? What did you find?"

I glanced around the café, ensuring no one was within earshot, then reached into my bag. "These," I said, sliding the folder of documents across the table. "Offshore accounts, money laundering, fraudulent business deals. And this," I paused, pulling out the deed to the mansion, "proves he transferred the house solely to his name, even though he and Diane bought it together."

My mother’s eyes widened as she leafed through the documents. "Sophie, how did you get these? Did he just... give them to you?"

"No," I said, a mirthless laugh escaping me. "I drugged him and broke into his safe while he was unconscious."

The shock on her face might have been comical under different circumstances. "You did what?"

"I did what I had to do," I said simply. "And there’s more." I pulled out my phone, forwarded the recording to her, then slid it across the table. "Listen to this."

She picked up the phone, holding it to her ear with a confused expression that gradually morphed into horror as Liam’s threats played back in his own voice. When it finished, she set the phone down carefully, as if it might explode.

"He tried to hurt her," she whispered. "At the farmers market. He was going to make it look like an accident."

I nodded grimly. "And he’ll try again if he gets the chance. That’s why I had to get this evidence to Diane."

My mother leaned back, her face pale. "You risked your life getting this."

"It was the least I could do," I said, looking down at my hands. "After everything."

A silence fell between us, filled with the soft clink of cups from nearby tables and the low murmur of other conversations. When I looked up again, my mother was watching me with an unreadable expression.

"Why did you lie about Dad?" I asked, the question that had been burning inside me since our phone call. "All these years, why did you let us believe he was dead?"

She flinched as if I’d struck her, her eyes darting away. "It seemed easier at the time," she said softly. "Your father... Andrew... he left us with nothing. Gambling debts, failed business ventures, a mortgage we couldn’t pay. Diane kept asking when Daddy was coming home, and I..." She trailed off, her voice breaking. "I couldn’t bear to tell her the truth—that he’d chosen to leave, that he didn’t love us enough to stay."

"So you told her he died," I finished for her. "And then told me the same lie as I grew up."

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "It was wrong, I know that now. But at the time, it felt like the only way to protect you both. To give you closure instead of abandonment."

I thought about my childhood, about the idealized image I’d built of the father I’d never really known. The stories my mother had told, carefully crafted to paint him as a hero taken too soon. The visits to a grave that wasn’t even his.

"I’m tired of the lies," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I’m tired of this life—of feeling alone, of being someone who doesn’t have a family. Even before..." I gestured vaguely, unable to name my betrayal aloud. "Even before everything with Liam, I felt disconnected, like I was always on the outside looking in. I want to change. To start fresh. To make peace, no matter how much it hurts."

My mother’s eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Sophie."

"How did Diane react?" I asked. "When she found out about Dad being alive?"

She sighed heavily. "Not well, as you might imagine. She felt betrayed—by him, by me. By life, I suppose. She had just started to come to terms with everything with Liam, and then this bombshell..."

I nodded, understanding completely. It seemed Diane’s life recently had been one betrayal after another, with me at the center of the worst one. "Who is he? I mean, what’s he like now? Where is he?"

"His name is Andrew Evans," my mother said. "He’s successful now, apparently. Wealthy. I don’t know where he lives or how to contact him." She paused. "But Diane does."

"So I don’t even know what he looks like," I murmured, a strange emptiness opening up inside me. "Would he... do you think he’d want to know me? To love me?"

My mother’s face crumpled. Before I could react, she had slid around to my side of the booth and pulled me into a fierce hug. I stiffened for a moment, then melted into her embrace, feeling like a child again.

"I’m so sorry, Mom," I whispered, tears flowing freely now. "I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you and Diane through. For being selfish, for the affair, for all of it."

She held me tighter, her hand stroking my hair as it had when I was small. "I forgave you a long time ago, sweetheart," she murmured. "I was just waiting for you to retrace your steps, like the lost sheep coming home."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting mine. "It’s like the prodigal son in the Bible. He lost his way, but when he realized his mistakes and learned his lesson, he came back to ask his father for forgiveness. And his father not only forgave him but threw a feast to celebrate his return."

A small laugh bubbled up through my tears. My mother had always been religious, always ready with a biblical parallel for any situation.

She smiled, wiping away my tears with her thumb. "I’m not throwing a feast for you, though," she added playfully.

I laughed properly then, feeling lighter than I had in months. "I wouldn’t expect one."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the worst of the tension between us dissipated. I laid my head on her shoulder, not wanting to break the spell of reconciliation just yet.

"Do you think you could help me with Diane?" I asked eventually. "I miss my sister. I know I have no right to ask for her forgiveness, but..."

My mother sighed. "I’ll try, Sophie. But you need to understand—Diane is still processing everything. She’s angry with me for lying about your father, angry with him for abandoning us, and of course, still hurt by what happened with you and Liam."

I nodded against her shoulder. "I know. I just... I need her to know I’m sorry. That I want to make amends, if she’ll let me."

"Give her time," my mother advised. "She’s been through so much. But Diane has always had a big heart. Eventually, I believe she’ll find room in it to forgive us both."

We stayed like that for a while longer, finding comfort in each other’s presence after so much distance. Finally, my mother straightened, checking her watch. "I should go. I promised Joan I’d help her with some preparations for dinner tonight."

"Joan?" I asked, sitting up. "Diane’s friend Joan?"

She nodded. "I’ve been staying at her place, so I can help Diane out, I don’t want her to go through this pregnancy journey alone."

I didn’t press for details, but respecting that now wasn’t the time. My mother gathered her purse and the folder of evidence, tucking it securely inside.

"I’ll make sure Diane gets these," she promised, standing. "And Sophie? Be careful. If Liam realizes what you’ve done..."

"I know," I said grimly. "I won’t go back there. I’ve already found a hotel to stay at for a few days, until I figure out my next move."

She leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "Take care of yourself. Diane needs you, even if she doesn’t realize it yet."

A sad smile played on my lips. "Tell her... tell her I’m going to be an aunt soon, and I can’t wait to shower them with all the love I have in me." My voice caught. "Please kiss my niece and nephew for me."

My mother’s eyes softened. "I will."

As she turned to leave, I felt a strange mix of emotions—grief for the years lost to lies and resentment, but also hope for what might be possible now. A reconciliation with Diane seemed almost too much to wish for, but I had to try. For her sake, for the babies, and for my own redemption.

I watched my mother weave through the tables and disappear out the door, then sat back in the booth, suddenly exhausted. The past twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of danger and revelation. I’d broken into Liam’s safe, discovered my father was alive, and begun to mend fences with my mother. It was more emotional upheaval than I’d experienced in years.