“It’s fine.” Sophia sipped her wine, holding it in her mouth before seeming to find the strength to swallow something that likely tasted more bitter than it had moments earlier. “I opened the topic. You’re not wrong to ask.”

“I wasn’t apologising for asking,” she clarified. “I was apologising for the answer I saw on your face. I’m sorry people have underestimated you. I’m sorry for the pain and frustration of having one’s genuine best efforts written off. I’m sorry for a culture that discredits a woman’s talents as stemming from baser instincts.”

Sophia waved her off.

“I mean it.”

She scoffed. “Even if I believed that, you’d have no qualifications to apologise for other people’s behaviour.”

“My advisors would disagree with you.” Vic stared down at her own wine, which had undoubtedly also turned bitter in her glass.

“Don’t expect me to apologise for them either,” Sophia said emphatically.

“Of course not.” She forced a smile. “My position comes with higher standards of behaviour and codes of conduct. I accept the responsibility—”

“No.” Sophia cut her off sharply. “That’s not what I meant.”

Vic waited for some sort of explanation, but the woman in front of her seemed to take a moment to compose herself with a deep breath.

Still, when Sophia spoke again, her voice held a hint of steel that hadn’t been there earlier. “These so-called advisors of yours are clearly wrong. It’s not your responsibility to apologize for anyone else’s actions, much less their thoughts. Apologies are silly and too often sexist. I never give them. I do what I do, and I say what I say, and I stand by those things. If my mind changes later, I deal with that later. I don’t owe anyone anything, especially apologies.”

Vic stared, flushed and little breathless at the speech and the feelings it stirred in her.

She had never wanted to kiss anyone so much as she did in that moment.

Her head swam as the implications of those thoughts swirled. She could almost get drunk on the prospect of a life without guilt, without shame, without apologies. The idea felt infinitely more foreign than any movie character she’d ever seen on screen. Could a woman actually live the way Sophia had just described? Nothing in her experience suggested so, and yet from the fire in Sophia’s voice, Vic didn’t dare doubt her.

••••

Sophia lifted her wineglass to her lips once more, only to find it empty. The bottle on the table between her and Vic had somehow ended up in the same state. Glancing around for the first time in she didn’t know how long, she noted the sun that had seemed unnaturally high earlier now only appeared as a saffron sliver on the horizon.