Alaric's heart sank. This had always been his greatest fear. He had been terrified that Sofia would find out she looked just like his late wife. It was true that at first, he only wanted her because she reminded him of Elizabeth. But after getting to know her, he had actually fallen in love with Sofia herself.
But Sofia didn't believe him. To her, he was just a man living in a dream.
"I am so sorry, Sofia," Alaric said, his voice filled with genuine regret. "I am sorry about the clothes. I should have cleared them out years ago. And I am sorry for saying her name. It was a mistake, an unconscious act. I love you for who you are, not for who you look like."
"I don't believe you anymore," Sofia whispered, shaking her head. "I can't breathe in this house. I feel like I'm disappearing. I need to leave. I feel suffocated here."
She turned to leave, but Alaric stepped in front of the door.
"I can't let you go, Sofia," he said firmly. "It isn't safe."
