1 Getting off my late-night shift, I treated a runaway kid to a cup of instant ramen. The girl didn't have a dime to her name, but she was all bravado, insisting that once she was back home, she’d set me up with her older sister. I mumbled a refusal through a mouthful of noodles, telling her there was someone I still couldn't get over. She wasn't having it. She claimed I just hadn’t tasted the good stuff yet—that there was no woman on earth better than her sister. That got my back up. In a fit of pique, I pulled up my ex-girlfriend’s Wikipedia page and shoved the phone in her face. The kid’s expression shifted strangely as she scanned the screen, then her eyes flicked back up to me. “Bro-in-law?” ... The scalding broth burned my tongue, and I hissed in pain, not quite catching what she’d said. I tilted my head, looking at the girl whose cheeks were puffed out with food. “What was that?” She chewed hard a couple of times, then propped her chin on her hand, her eyes sweeping over me from head to toe. Her voice was laced with disbelief. “You’re telling me… this Sophia Laurent… is your ex-girlfriend?” I let out a smug little humph and snatched my phone back, waving it at her. “That’s right. What do you think? Told you your sister couldn’t possibly compare.” The kid’s face twisted into an even stranger expression, her lips twitching like she was about to have a seizure. I eyed her cautiously, subtly sliding my cup of ramen a little further away from her. I’d barely moved it an inch when two slender fingers caught the edge of the cup. My head snapped around. A face so familiar it made my heart stop was suddenly inches from mine. For a split second, I almost believed the woman from my memories was really here. But the illusion shattered the moment the girl’s young, high-pitched voice broke the silence. “Hey, so… how’d you and your ex break up?” My eyelid twitched. I turned away, unable to look at that miniature version of her face any longer. “You’re a kid. Don't be so nosy about grown-up stuff.” Five years since the breakup, and I still had zero defense against anyone who looked even remotely like Sophia. Earlier that night, I’d been wrapping my coat tighter, about to hail a cab after my shift. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure huddled on the curb. Under the hazy yellow streetlights, her profile glowed like porcelain, and my heart felt like it was being squeezed, over and over. I practically stumbled out of the cab I’d just opened, tripping over my own feet as I rushed toward her. “Soph—” The name died in my throat the second the small girl looked up. It wasn't her. I’d mistaken someone for her again. The girl, a good head shorter than me, stared up with wary eyes, though her tone was polite. “Mister, can I help you?” Just then, an embarrassed gurgle echoed in the cold night air. I forced a tight smile, pulled out my work ID and driver’s license, and slapped them into her palm before pointing to a convenience store down the street. “Call me Liam. And it’s my good deed for the day. I’m buying you something to eat. You in?” And that’s how I ended up with this little chatterbox sitting next to me. “Hey, Liam! C’mon!” “Just tell me! Why did you two really break up?” “Think of it as your second good deed. Satisfy the burning curiosity of a girl in the prime of her youth.” I spun the plastic fork in my hand, failing miserably to spear the last slippery fish cake in my cup. “There’s nothing to tell. Sometimes things just don’t work out, and you go your separate ways. That’s all.” She let out a skeptical “Tch.” “There’s always a reason things don’t work out.” “I know! It must have been the evil queen—” She cut herself off, clearing her throat awkwardly as I shot her a confused look. “I mean, in these kinds of princess-and-the-pauper stories, there’s always an evil queen, right?” “Liam, did you break up because her mom came to see you?” “Did she hand you a fifty-million-dollar check?” The kid’s wild imagination made me laugh. “Sorry to disappoint you.” “It was a mutual breakup. Peaceful.” Truth be told, during the three years I was with Sophia, I lived in a constant state of anxiety, waiting for her family to show up at my door. I’d imagined all sorts of scenarios: being handed a fat check, being dragged to some lavish club to be shown just how wide the gap between our worlds was. But in the five years since we parted, I never once met a single member of Sophia’s family. Even when Sophia broke up with me, it was just… quiet. We calmly finished a cup of ramen at a convenience store, walked out the door, and went in opposite directions without looking back. Our story began like the cheesiest of fairy tales. Back then, I was an intern at a soul-crushing tech giant, basically a walking zombie. Sophia had just returned to the States, launching a startup with a few friends, navigating a gauntlet of boozy client meetings and networking events. Three in the morning in New York City. A drunk-as-a-skunk Sophia was leaning against the railing by the river, letting the wind sober her up. I thought she was about to jump. I offered her a pre-packaged sandwich from a 7-Eleven. The moment her eyes met mine, I knew I’d made a ridiculous mistake. A person like her would never do something that foolish. I started to pull the sandwich back, mortified and ready to bolt. But then she let out a soft laugh and plucked it from my hand. “Thanks. My stomach was killing me.” That was the first time I saw Sophia Laurent. She was in a sharp power suit, her eyes glistening from the alcohol, but her gaze felt like a cool evening breeze off the water. And just like that, through a bizarre twist of fate, we exchanged numbers. She was always swamped, but she’d patiently listen to me rant about my boss and my dead-end job. I was busy too, but I always found time in my chaotic schedule to think about her. I thought we were just two kindred spirits, fellow wage slaves drowning in the corporate grind. It was only later that I learned our worlds were separated by an uncrossable chasm. It happened one night when my boss dragged me, the token intern, to a dinner with a bunch of lecherous old suits. When a hand landed on my ass and gave it a squeeze, I reacted on instinct. I threw my drink in the guy’s face and drove my elbow hard into his chest. The scene descended into chaos. My boss threatened my full-time offer, demanding I apologize by chugging a bottle of red wine. The creep I’d hit was screaming that he’d have me thrown in jail. Face grim, I called the cops. In the middle of the mess, I managed to answer a call from Sophia. She arrived before the police did. She stood at the entrance of the private dining room, flanked by a group of serious-looking men, and gave me a casual little wave. “A bunch of old predators playing entrapment games with a kid fresh out of college,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Have you no shame?” “You like playing with men’s asses so much? Maybe I should get some people to give you a real good time.” The once-raucous room fell silent. I instinctively glanced at the investor who’d been screaming for compensation. His face was ashen, his eyes wide with pure terror as he stared at Sophia. That was the first time I got a real glimpse of the world she inhabited. But I was twenty-two then. I still believed love could move mountains. I dove headfirst into the river that was Sophia Laurent, armed with nothing but reckless courage. And because of that, I let myself feel so many things I never should have. The year we broke up, we were still in love. But we were exhausted by it. She’d turned down an arranged match for me. And as a result, the company she had poured her heart and soul into was destroyed. The day it was officially liquidated, I went to her office to find her. The once-bustling floor was eerily empty. There was only Sophia, standing alone before the floor-to-ceiling windows. I took a deep breath, walked up, and wrapped my arms around her from behind. She turned and collapsed into my embrace, holding me so tightly her voice was muffled and raw. “Liam… I might have nothing left after this. Are you going to regret it?” I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, then forced a lighthearted tone as I pulled back to squeeze her cheeks. “Whoever regrets it is a loser.” But I never imagined the rules of her world were so much crueler than I thought. A complete and total industry blacklist. She was so thoroughly shut out that the only job she could find was waiting tables at a stuffy French restaurant. I went to see her there. She was swimming in an ill-fitting uniform, navigating the maze of tables with a heavy tray. The hands that once flew across a keyboard now struggled to balance scalding hot plates. It was the dead of winter, the coldest it had been in years. Her hands were raw and swollen with chilblains, a painful mix of red and purple. No matter how much ointment I applied, they wouldn't heal. I stared at those hands, my voice cracking. “Sophia, I can support you. I’ll work three jobs, four jobs, whatever it takes.” I buried my face in her stomach, desperate to hide my tears. “My Sophia… my Sophia is supposed to be the proudest woman in the world. She deserves the best of everything…” “Not this… she shouldn’t be like this…” A hand stroked my hair, again and again. Sophia’s voice trembled. “It’s okay. This will pass.” But her strength only made my own pain sharper. So sharp I couldn’t sleep for nights on end. Until one afternoon, her childhood friend found me. He was dressed in a simple black overcoat, not the arrogant rich kid I’d pictured, but more like a model straight out of a fashion magazine. “I’m not here to steal her from you,” he said, getting straight to the point. He slid his phone across the table to me. “I just think you should see who she was meant to be.” I took the phone. On the screen, a younger, brighter Sophia stood on an auditorium stage. She was in a white dress, her eyes shining as she passionately described her vision for the future. The proud, brilliant woman in the video and the woman with chilblains on her hands were two different people. Her friend’s voice was gentle, but his eyes held a calm, piercing pity. “She was meant to change the world, Liam. Not be changed by it.” He was tactful, saying no more. But watching the radiant Sophia in the video, I suddenly understood. Love can’t move mountains. Not all of them. There were some ladders I could never climb, and I couldn’t be selfish enough to drag the moon from the heavens down into the dust with me. I could shoulder any hardship myself, but I couldn’t stand by and watch the light in my Sophia get extinguished by life. I walked home that day, every step heavy with tears. When I opened the door, Sophia was kneeling by the window, watering a half-dead spider plant. The setting sun streamed through the dusty glass, stretching her shadow long across the floor. I just stood there in the doorway, watching her for a long, long time. As if trying to memorize a lifetime’s worth of her. But then she turned and smiled at me. “By next spring, it should finally flower.” Hiding in the shadows of the doorway, I spoke softly. “Sophia… maybe we should just… let this go.” The watering can in her hand froze mid-air. She set it down gently. There were no questions, no arguments. She just looked at me, her gaze steady. Then she walked over and raised a hand to my face. “This is the first time you’ve ever let me see you cry.” “Liam… am I making you this unhappy? So unhappy you can’t stand it anymore?” “Can’t we just try a little longer?” Every ounce of my strength went into fighting the urge to pull her into my arms. I didn’t even have the energy to shake my head. After a long silence, Sophia’s hand slid from my cheek. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Okay. I’ll let you go.” I leaned against the doorframe, covering my eyes with my hand, sobbing too hard to form a single word. After that, Sophia became the moon in the sky once more. Her face was a regular feature on the covers of business magazines. I never saw her again. A sigh broke through my thoughts, right next to my ear. “Dude, a grown man crying like that is seriously weird.” I snapped back to reality, turning my head away in embarrassment to wipe my eyes. “Whose fault is that? It’s all ancient history, and you just had to make me dig it all up.” The girl, Chloe, pouted, her amber eyes darting around before she suddenly leaned in close. “Hey, Liam. Could you call my sister for me?” I looked at her, confused. She grinned, revealing two small canine teeth, her tone shamelessly righteous. “I regret running away. Call her and tell her to come pick me up.” I dialed the number. Someone picked up almost immediately, but the sound was punctuated by a few coughs. The familiar timbre of that voice made my hand tremble. But Chloe snatched the phone away. “Sis! Sis! I was wrong! Come get me, please!” There was a moment of silence on the other end, just the sound of slightly labored breathing, then a response. “Whose phone are you using?” The phone was shoved back into my hand. I automatically said, “Hello?” This time, the silence stretched even longer. It was followed by a few more suppressed coughs, then the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. “Wait for me. I’ll be there in half an hour.” The line went dead, but I stood there, stunned, for a long time. Then my phone started vibrating. A message from my boss in the work group chat, demanding a file immediately. That tiny, strange feeling in my heart was instantly forgotten. I grabbed my coat and started to leave. But Chloe, who was now happily picking out snacks, blocked my path, letting out a theatrical wail. “Liam! Don’t go! Wait for my sister to get here!” I kept my head down, replying to the messages as I fished a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet and pressed it into her hand. “I can’t, I really have to go. You just eat and wait for your sister, okay?” With that, I jogged out of the convenience store. I walked quickly towards my office building, my eyes glued to my phone as I dealt with the work emergency. Just then, a white Bentley turned onto the street, cruising slowly. The headlights made me look up instinctively. Strange. A car that understated and luxurious had a simple, slightly crooked drawing of a sunflower on the side. My feet suddenly felt heavy. When we were together, I’d spent most of my savings on a luxury bracelet for Sophia. Tucked inside the gift box, I’d cringe-inducingly placed a small card. It was blank, except for my drawing of a sunflower. Sophia had asked me what the flower meant. I’d turned red and refused to tell her. She studied that card in front of me for three whole days. Finally, worn down, I’d leaned in and whispered in her ear: “You’re my sun. You’re the most precious thing in the world to me.” She’d frozen for a second, then stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Idiot.” But the reality was, she was born a sun. She didn’t need the admiration of a weed like me to shine. We had just briefly crossed paths in the vast expanse of time. Then the sun returned to its rightful place in the sky, and I returned to my roots in the dirt.
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