CHAPTER 8

Sophia’s POV

I couldn't help but smile as I spoke with my best friend Kayla over the phone. She was the only one back home who was aware of my new phone number.

"Congratulations Sophia!” Kayla exclaimed happily. “I’m sure you did a splendid job. I wish I could be there to see your works being exhibited.”

"Thank you, Kayla. You know I couldn’t have done this without your support.”

I had just entered the hall where visual displays by selected graduate students of Interior Design were being exhibited. 

I was immediately greeted by a sea of familiar faces – friends, classmates, and professors – all smiling and congratulating me. 

As I moved through the exhibit, the compliments kept coming. “Sophia, your designs are so innovative!” one classmate remarked. “I love how you play with light and space.”

“Thank you! I've been experimenting with new techniques,” I explained, eager to share my process.

Approaching my professor, I was met with a smile of approval. “Sophia, your work is exceptional. You have a bright future ahead of you,” he said, patting me on the back.

I smiled, beaming with pride and joy. Indeed, immersing myself in my studies has paid off very well. I’ve also jumped on all opportunities to take on creative pursuits, joining exhibits like this and even doing a side hustle designing hole-in-the-wall cafes and startup offices. 

Last week, our school held a design competition, and to my surprise, I won first place. It was a validation of my talent and hard work, something I never really experienced back home since I got married. 

Later on, I felt an arm around my shoulders. “Ready to celebrate, Miss Super Artist?” a familiar male voice said. I turned around to see Daniel grinning at me. “Come on, my treat.”

We headed out of the campus and into our favorite pizza place nearby. Some of our other friends came to join us too. As I settled into my seat, my hand instinctively flew to my belly, caressing it gently. It was showing already, and I was proud of it. 

It had been almost three months since I arrived in France, and I couldn't believe how much my life had changed. The vibrant atmosphere, the rich culture, and the artistic ambiance of this city had truly worked their magic on me.

Initially, adjusting to life here was challenging. The language barrier, the unfamiliarity of everything, and being away from home weighed heavily on me. But gradually, I found my rhythm.

“Ready to order?” Daniel asked. 

“Of course I’ll have the usual. With extra pepperoni, please!” I quipped happily. Daniel had been a very good friend, and he’d really helped me adjust fast. 

Living in Paris had changed me. I felt more confident, more alive. The city had a way of inspiring me, pushing me to new heights. I was becoming the person I had always wanted to be, and it was exhilarating.

As we all laughed together, I zoned out a little and thought about my future plans. Despite the challenges I've faced, I was determined to work even harder, ideally graduating before my baby's first birthday. That way, when I find a job, I can better take care of my little one.

“Another slice, Sophia?” Daniel asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I smiled and nodded, feeling grateful for his friendship and support. “Yes, please. This pizza is too good to resist.”

After eating, we went to our favorite store, one that offered a unique selection of books, music, art, and artisanal crafts from around the world. 

As I perused the shelves of the cultural boutique, my eyes fell upon a book that stood out among the others. Its cover featured a lineup of young billionaires, and there, among them, was Elijah's handsome profile.

I felt a twinge of recognition, but it was fleeting. Elijah was now like a familiar stranger to me, someone from a past life that felt distant and disconnected. Brushing off the momentary nostalgia, I continued browsing, my focus shifting to other books that piqued my interest.

“Find anything you like?” Daniel quipped from behind me. 

“Not yet,” I answered. 

My mind drifted back to Elijah for a while. I smiled, feeling free and independent, so different from what my life used to be. I never got in touch with him again after that divorce, and it was definitely liberating. 

Sure, I occasionally encountered him on TV and sometimes in magazines and newspapers, but it didn’t bother me anymore like before. I no longer paid much attention. 

Glad I immediately changed my number after he called that first time when I’d just gotten here, I thought with relief. I only gave my new number to Daniel and Kayla, and of course to my new contacts here. 

Why was he interested in talking to me again, anyway? He had all the chances in the world before, and he never took any. Now it’s too late. 

Back in my apartment, I rested for a while before beginning to cook dinner for myself. It all came so easy for me now. 

Kayla called. “Hey, there! How’d the opening of the exhibit go?”

“Oh, it was awesome!” I proceeded to tell her about it while I chopped onions on my kitchen countertop. 

“Congratulations! You did it again!” she exclaimed over the phone. “I’m just so happy for you. I admire your strength and courage despite everything.”

“Thank you. I’m surviving.”

“With flying colors!” Kayla added. “Hmm… I wonder if it has something to do with…” She trailed off meaningfully, then giggled. I already knew what she was getting at. 

I laughed. “Don’t be silly. I already told you we’re just friends.”

Suddenly, as if on cue, I received a message from Daniel on my phone. 

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Kayla asked excitedly when she heard the notification during our call. “You know, he’s been sooo good to you, I refuse to believe he has absolutely no feelings for you!”