The same rehearsed script. I ducked my head and laughed softly. "Say whatever you want. It doesn't matter anymore."
I waved the divorce certificate in my hand. "Andrew, you're the one who said I trapped you. Well, here's your freedom. So why are you still here? Get lost."
Sophie slipped back into her wounded-dove act, eyes glistening like she might cry. "Elena, I've always looked up to you like an older sister. I've respected you so much. Even if you and Andrew are divorced, you could still be friends. Why make things so ugly?"
I snorted.
How Andrew and I ended up here—this homewrecker knew better than anyone. And she still had the nerve to stand in front of me, playing the victim, batting those innocent eyes.
I wasn't buying it.
"Sophie Quinn." My voice dropped. "If you show your face in front of me again, I'll make it much uglier."
Rage flared in Andrew's eyes. He slammed the car door so hard the bang echoed down the street. "Sophie, forget her. She doesn't know kindness when she sees it—treats our goodwill like garbage. We don't need to play the nice guys anymore."
He wrapped his arm around Sophie, climbed into the car, and drove off.