Page 32 of Reckless Flames

Yet, it wasn’t just in the moments of intimacy that our connection flourished. It was in the everyday, in the mundane tasks and routines, that we found our rhythm, a harmonious balance that allowed us to face the world as a united front.

We cooked together for the fun of it—giving Anna a break at the same time, laughing at our culinary misadventures. We sharedstories, dreams, and ambitions, finding comfort in the simple act of listening and being heard.

And when the outside world encroached, when the shadows of past threats and current challenges loomed large, we stood together—the team we had become—fortified by mutual respect and—I was beginning to realize—love.

One night, as we lay in bed, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains, Sophie turned to me, her eyes shining with an emotion that took my breath away. “Ben, I never thought I’d find this,” she whispered, her hand tracing patterns on my chest. “This peace, this...belonging. With you, I feel like I’ve come home.”

Her words struck a chord deep within me. “Sophie, you are my home,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion. “With you, I’ve found a piece of myself I didn’t even know was missing.”

The depth of our connection, the profound sense of belonging we found in each other, was a testament to the journey we’d embarked on—a journey marked by trials and tribulations, but also by moments of indescribable joy and fulfillment.

As we drifted off to sleep, entwined in each other’s arms, I couldn’t help but be amazed at the twist of fate that had brought Sophie into my life.

Chapter nineteen

Sophie

The sense of belonging and warmth I had found in Ben’s arms was a stark contrast to the chill that greeted me upon my return home. Madi’s reception was colder than I had anticipated, her usually open and affectionate demeanor replaced by a guarded coolness that immediately set me on edge.

I drove to our parents’ home soon after the cruise and found her in the kitchen, her back to me as she busied herself with something on the stove. “Madi?” I ventured, my voice laced with a cautious optimism.

She turned, her expression tight, the smile she offered more of a formality than a genuine greeting. “Oh, Sophie. You’re back.”

The tension was noticeable; clearly, a barrier had sprung up between us again. “Yeah, I am. I was hoping we could talk,” I said, moving closer, trying to bridge the physical and emotional distance with my presence.

Madi sighed, setting down her spoon with a little more force than necessary. “Talk? Sure, we can talk. But it seems like that’s all we’ve been doing lately. There’s been a lot of talk, yet nothing changes.”

Her words stung, a sharp reminder of the promises I had made and, in her eyes, failed to keep. “I know I haven’t been around as much as I had planned to be, Madi. With everything going on, it’s been… complicated.”

“Complicated,” she repeated, the word laced with a bitterness. “That seems to be your go-to excuse these days, Soph. Everything’s ‘complicated’ with you and Ben.”

The mention of Ben’s name brought a flush to my cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness. “It’s not an excuse, Madi. Things have been really tough, and Ben’s been there for me through all of it.”

Madi crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter. “I get that, I really do. But it feels like you’re using him as a shield, Soph. Hiding behind your relationship instead of facing things head-on.”

The accusation hit a little too close to home. “That's not fair, Madi. You know what I’ve been dealing with—the stalker, the threats. It’s not just some convenient excuse to avoid responsibility.”

She shook her head, her expression softening slightly, but the resolve in her eyes unwavering. “I know you’ve been through a lot, Soph. And I’m not trying to minimize that. But it’s like you’ve retreated into this bubble with Ben, and the rest of us can’t reach you anymore.”

The truth of her words was a painful pill to swallow, a stark reflection of the unintended consequences of my actions. “I didn’t realize... I never meant to shut you out, Madi.”

Madi pushed off from the counter wearily. “I know you didn’t. But intentions and actions are two different things, Soph. We all miss you—the old you. The one who wasn’t so caught up in her own world that she forgot about the rest of us.”

The conversation that followed was a difficult one, filled with hard truths and uncomfortable revelations. We navigated the choppy waters of our strained relationship, each of us laying bare our feelings and grievances.

By the end, the air between us felt clearer, the frost of Madi’s initial reception thawing under the warmth of our shared history and love as we made plans for her to come over to Ben’s to work on wedding stuff the following day. The path to reconciliationwas laid out before us, a road marked by mutual understanding and a renewed commitment to our bond as sisters.

I spent that night in my old room in my parent’s house. Ben and I had agreed that it wouldn’t hurt to give me more family time while the stalker thought I was in his house. As I lay in bed that night, the weight of the day’s conversations pressing down on me, I realized the depth of the impact my relationship with Ben was having on my family dynamics. The love and support I had found in him were invaluable, but not if they came at the expense of the other relationships that mattered to me.

The fragile peace of the morning was shattered when I found a letter, nondescript and innocent-looking in the usual array of bills and flyers in our mailbox, but its contents were anything but. My hands trembled as I read the thinly veiled threats, each word a cold slice against the warmth I’d been trying to nurture back into my life.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, the paper crinkling in my clenched fist. The stalker had never been this bold before, and the directness of the unspoken threat sent a wave of fear crashing over me.

I was still reeling when Madi walked in, her expression shifting from casual curiosity to concern at the sight of my distress. “Soph, what’s wrong?” she asked, moving closer.

I hesitated, torn between wanting to shield her from the ugliness of the situation and the need to share the burden that had become too heavy to bear alone. With a shaky exhale, I handed her the letter, watching as her eyes widened in horror with each word she read.

My dear Sophie,

---