Page 29 of Reckless Flames

The consensus was unanimous, a chorus of agreement and praise for Madi’s meticulous planning. Yet, when the conversation turned to anecdotes of the planning process, to the trials and triumphs of bringing the big day to life, I found myself on the periphery, my contributions limited to nods and smiles.

The realization stung, a sharp pang of guilt for the moments missed, the memories not made. My focus on the situation withBen, on the looming threat of the stalker, had inadvertently created a chasm between me and the people I loved.

As the stylist finally called my name, I rose, my movements automatic as I took my place in the chair. The mirror reflected back a stranger, someone caught between two worlds, struggling to find her footing in both.

The stylist chatted away, her words a soothing background noise to the tumult of my thoughts. I still felt bad that I’d inadvertently isolated myself from those who mattered most. And even though I was here now, I still wasn’t present in the way I should be.

The guilt was a heavy cloak, each swish of the stylist’s scissors a reminder of the time slipping away, of the need to mend the rifts before it was too late. The wedding was more than just a celebration; it was a milestone, a marker of time and relationships, and I was determined not to let any estrangement cast a shadow over Madi’s joy.

As the final curls were set and the stylist spun me around to face the mirror, the transformation was more than just physical. The reflection staring back at me was a woman resolved to make amends, to bridge the gap between her present and her past.

I stepped back into the waiting area, my heart set on rekindling the connections that had once been so effortless. The conversations still flowed around me, but this time, I wadedin with a renewed sense of purpose, my contributions more genuine, my laughter more heartfelt.

The process wasn’t instantaneous, the reintegration into the fold marked by moments of awkwardness and hesitancy. But as the day wore on, the barriers began to crumble, the warmth of shared history and affection slowly melting the ice of my self-imposed exile.

By the time we left the salon, the sense of estrangement had lessened, the ties that bound us together as a family, as friends, had been strengthened and reaffirmed.

I almost wished that I could sleep at my parents’ that night. It would have been so nice to have everything be the way it would have been pre-stalker, and at that thought, I was filled with anger against the person who had so disrupted my life and my relationships.

***

The next afternoon, the dining room of our parents’ house was transformed into a workshop of sorts, tables laden with flowers, ribbons, and an array of craft materials for the wedding centerpieces and place cards. Madi was at the helm, her wedding planner clipboard in hand, directing operations with a mix of excitement and stress that only a bride-to-be could muster.

“Soph, can you take care of the place cards? I’ve got to call the florist,” Madi asked, her tone frazzled as she juggled multiple tasks.

“Of course, no problem,” I replied, eager to ease her burden. I settled at a table, the blank cards spread out before me like a canvas waiting for an artist’s touch.

A little later, I was carefully writing the names of guests, when Madi came over, her phone call with the florist evidently concluded. She watched me for a moment, a contemplative look on her face.

“Soph, I...I wanted to say thank you,” she started, her voice softer than I’d heard in a while. “For really being here, you know? It means a lot.”

I looked up, surprised by the sudden shift in her demeanor. “Madi, I’m sorry for everything. For not being around as much as I should have been. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Madi took a seat beside me, her gaze fixed on the intricate work of the place cards. “It’s just been so weird, Soph. With you staying at Ben’s and everything going on. It felt like I was losing my sister.” The pain in her voice was palpable, and guilt twisted in my stomach.

“I know, and I hate that I made you feel that way. This whole situation with the stalker has been overwhelming, but it’s no excuse. I want to make things right.”

Madi sighed, picking up a place card and examining it. “I appreciate that, Soph. And I know it’s been tough for you too. I guess we both just need to find our way back to how things were.”

I nodded, placing the pen down and turning to face her fully. “I miss us, Madi. I miss how easy things used to be between us. I want to get back to that.”

She smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes for the first time in what felt like ages. “Me too. And I think we can, Soph. It’ll take some time, but we’ll get there.”

We spent the next few hours working side by side in comfortable silence, the rhythm of our tasks a soothing balm to the tension that had lingered between us. As we crafted and created, the foundation of our sisterhood slowly began to reknit itself, each place card and centerpiece a testament to our shared history and love.

As the afternoon light began to wane, casting long shadows across the room, I felt a sense of accomplishment, not just in the tasks we were able to check off the list as completed but in the intangible mending of our relationship.

“Madi, I’m really looking forward to your big day. It’s going to be beautiful, just like you,” I said as we packed away the last of the supplies.

She leaned in, giving me a quick hug, her gratitude evident. “Thanks, Soph. It wouldn’t be the same without you by my side.”

As we cleaned up, the weight of the past few weeks felt lighter, and I mistakenly wished for a minute that the stalker would just disappear. An instant later, however, I knew that that would leave me looking over my shoulder for years to come. He had to be caught—he just had to be.

Chapter eighteen

Ben

Between the whirlwind of emotions and events surrounding Madi’s upcoming wedding, the tension between Sophie and her family, and the constant looming threat of the stalker, I knew that we both desperately needed an escape, a break from the chaos that had become our lives. The idea came to me one restless night, a sudden spark of inspiration: a romantic cruise to the Bahamas, a chance for Sophie and me to disconnect from the world and reconnect with each other.

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