Kayden had fallen asleep next to him on the couch, and Tennyson honestly had no memory of watching the movie his eyes were glued to. Not a minute passed before he went over his argument—could it even be called an argument?—with Sophie. Over and over. Was he right? Had he crossed a line? Was he biased? Did it fucking matter? Regardless of Sophie's past, she was an incredible woman today, and he needed her to see it. He hoped with all his heart that she'd read those comments. He'd scoured everything from ridiculous gossip blogs and Facebook to comment sections under articles about her and reviews. And perhaps once she saw what others saw, she could move forward. Perhaps she could find peace and, later, not care as much about what others thought. Jesus Christ, some people absolutely loathed Tennyson's films, but that didn’t stop him from directing. He couldn’t please everyone.
