What was going on here? There was no way Liam knew this was going on, and this was one situation she wasn’t going to clue him in on. It wasn’t her place to tell.
“I don’t have time for this. I’m figuring up the new plans, refiguring the cost for extra wiring, and the last thing I want to talk about is my house.”
Zach’s voice was dangerously low, but Sophie was done tiptoeing around him and his moodiness.
She turned to Braxton. “What do you think about the sale?”
Braxton shrugged. “It’s not my house, but I agree with Zach’s reasoning and I’d do the same if I were in his shoes.”
“And Liam? What does he think?”
Braxton threw a glance over Sophie’s shoulder. “We haven’t told him yet.”
Sophie closed her eyes and sighed. There was so much hurt in the family, she didn’t even know where to begin trying to help them patch all the pieces back together.
“Don’t you think he should be in on that decision?” she asked, turning back to Zach, who kept his back to her as he studied his notes.
“He’s coming in sometime this weekend,” Zach replied without facing her. “I’ll tell him then.”
Before she could reply, Zach turned and brought that dark, intense focus directly down on her. “This is none of your concern.”
Why did he continue to say things to hurt her? Why did he act like she had no personal connection to this family? And more importantly, why was she standing there beating her head against a brick wall?
With a slight nod, Sophie backed up a step. “You’re right. None of this is my concern. I don’t know what I was thinking. Just because I was part of your family for years, I practically spent my teens in that house and loved your parents like my own, I couldn’t possibly care about you guys or that house.”
She turned to leave when Zach called her name.
Sophie merely held up a hand and kept walking. She was done. Officially done with Zach Monroe and the way he treated her . . . treated everyone, for that matter. He’d not even mentioned anything to Liam, and regardless of the bad blood that flowed between them, Liam deserved to know what was going on.
Still, she wasn’t the one to drop that bomb and she was washing her hands of this. If they needed help during the cosmetic phase, Sophie would step in, but only to honor Chelsea. Other than that, they were on their own.
Anger and hurt fought for top place in her heart, and she didn’t know which one was crippling her more. As she reached her car, Sophie rested her hands on the top of the door and cursed herself for the blurry vision and the sting of tears. Zach Monroe wasn’t worth it.
Okay, he was, but she deserved better. All this time he’d tried telling her that, but now she knew. He pushed and pushed her away, and now she understood why.
Why did she have to love a man who was so wrong for her? And why, even after all that just happened, did she still ache for his affection?
Chapter Eleven
There was a level of hell that certain people belonged in for purposely hurting others. Zach was going to be first in that line after the way he’d treated Sophie earlier.
Damn it. He kept telling himself he wouldn’t hurt her and he’d done nothing but. Over and over he’d said things, done things that only expanded that wedge of pain between them. He was best alone, because when he hurt, when he was scared, he lashed out, and every damn time, Sophie had been in the crosshairs.
Now here he stood on her porch, beneath the glow of the antique-style light above her door, ready to grovel if need be. He’d never groveled in his life.
Tapping his scarred knuckles on her door, Zach took a step back and waited. As much as he hated being there, he hated knowing he’d hurt her even more.
And speaking of hurt, his face still throbbed where Braxton had silently voiced his opinion on how Zach handled the situation earlier.
Sophie had been right, though. She’d grown up with Chelsea, loved his family like her own, and often sought refuge when she wanted to get out of the stuffy environment her parents provided. Sophie was part of his life, past and present, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Whether he wanted to face his true feelings for her or continue to hide them, she didn’t deserve the ugliness he kept using as a defense mechanism.
The dead bolt clicked just before the door swung open. Sophie’s eyes widened, then narrowed as she stared back at him. Pulling her silk robe tighter around her curvy body, she clutched the top of the vee. That damn robe . . . the same one his hands had itched to peel off her body the other night.
“What happened to your face?”
“Braxton.”
Sophie nodded as her cat slid against her leg and stared up at him. “Good.”