Chapter 2: Broken Pieces

The taxi ride to her friend Zoe's apartment was a blur of city lights and muffled sobs. Sophia clutched her phone, her thumb hovering over Marcus's contact. Five years of her life, erased in a fifteen-minute conversation. How could she have been so blind?

Zoe opened the door, her smile fading as she took in Sophia's tear-stained face. "Oh, honey. What happened?"

Sophia collapsed into her friend's arms, the story spilling out between hiccups and fresh waves of tears. Zoe listened, her expression morphing from shock to anger.

"That absolute bastard," Zoe muttered, guiding Sophia to the couch. "I always knew he was a jerk, but this? This is a new low."

Sophia curled up, hugging a pillow to her chest. "What am I going to do, Zoe? I have nowhere to live, no job... God, I don't even know who I am anymore."

Zoe squeezed her hand. "You're Sophia Reeves. And you're going to be okay."

As the night wore on, Sophia's tears gave way to exhaustion. Zoe made up the spare room, and Sophia fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, Sophia woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Zoe's voice, sharp with anger. She crept to the kitchen doorway, listening.

"No, you listen to me, Marcus," Zoe was saying. "You can't just throw her away like yesterday's trash. She gave you five years of her life!"

A pause, then Zoe's bitter laugh. "A severance package? Are you kidding me? She's not your employee, you sociopath. She's a human being!"

Another pause. "Fine. Have it your way. But mark my words, you're going to regret this."

Zoe hung up, turning to find Sophia in the doorway. "Oh, sweetie. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Sophia shook her head, a strange calm settling over her. "It's okay. I needed to hear that."

Over coffee, Sophia's mind drifted to the past. She remembered the bright-eyed journalism graduate she'd been when she first met Marcus at a charity gala. How quickly she'd been swept up in his world of wealth and power. And how, slowly but surely, she'd lost herself in his shadow.

"I was such an idiot," Sophia murmured.

Zoe reached across the table. "No, you weren't. You were in love. It happens to the best of us."

Sophia's phone buzzed – a text from Marcus's assistant about arranging to collect her things. Reality crashed back in.

"What am I going to do now?" Sophia asked, fear creeping into her voice.

Zoe squeezed her hand. "First, we're going to get your stuff. Then, we're going to figure this out. Together."

As they drove to Marcus's penthouse, Sophia stared out the window at the city she'd called home for five years. It felt different now, intimidating but also full of possibility.

In the penthouse, Sophia moved through the rooms like a ghost, packing her life into suitcases. She paused in the study, her eyes falling on a framed photo of her and Marcus at a gala. She looked happy, radiant even. But Marcus... Marcus was looking past her, his eyes fixed on something – or someone – out of frame.

A hot surge of anger rose in Sophia's chest. She grabbed the photo, about to smash it, when something stopped her. Instead, she carefully removed the picture from the frame and tucked it into her bag. A reminder, she thought. Of who I was, and who I never want to be again.

As they left the building, Sophia took one last look at the towering skyscraper that had been her gilded cage. "I'm going to make it on my own," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have to."

Zoe smiled, linking her arm through Sophia's. "You won't be alone. And honey? You're going to do more than make it. You're going to thrive."

For the first time in days, Sophia felt a flicker of hope. The road ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: Sophia Reeves was done being anyone's accessory. It was time to reclaim her life, piece by broken piece.