15. Sophie
Chapter fifteen
Sophie
B en and I had just gotten dressed again, when the bubble of our newfound intimacy was burst by a knock on the door. I opened it so see my brother, Jake, standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and begrudging acceptance. I guessed that the latter came from the sight of Ben in my bedroom. At least we had had time to get dressed again. Thank God!
“Hey, Sophie, I’ve heard about your stalker. Just thought I’d come by and check on you myself. I know it’s kinda late, but Anna thought you were still up,” Jake muttered, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of exasperation. His sudden appearance, though startling, was a stark reminder of why I was here in the first place—safety.
“Ben,” my brother acknowledged his friend’s presence in my bedroom with a stern nod.
Jake’s gaze flicked between Ben and me, the unspoken questions clear in his eyes. But he shook his head slightly, as if to clear away thoughts he’d rather not dwell on. “How are you holding up, Sophie? Has anything else happened since Ben chased that guy away from mom and dad’s house?”
“I’m fine, Jake. Being out here feels safer since everything that’s happened was in town. Well, felt safer,” I added, knowing that the two of them were going to rain a shitstorm of irritation down on my head in a minute.
And here we go , I thought, as both their heads swiveled to me in horror.
“What’s happened!” Ben asked quickly while Jake was saying, “Sophie, did something happen out here.”
“Well, I’m not 100 percent sure, so I didn’t say anything, but the way he waved at me just seemed a little creepy.” And I told them about the guy across the river from me the other day. It was an explanation followed by the expected shitstorm.
Ben calmed down pretty quickly and said, “Okay, that does it. I’m getting security around the house, twenty-four, seven.” He looked at Jake as if to ask my brother for any other suggestions.
Jake said, “Well, I don’t know that there’s much more you could do except to add a bank of screens monitoring the camera feeds and someone to watch them day and night, but that’s pretty extreme.”
I watched the exchange, a silent observer as two of the most important men in my life reviewed my protection like generals strategizing for battle. It was both comforting and unnerving, the lengths to which they were willing to go to ensure my safety.
Jake turned to me, “Sophie, you okay with all this?”
I nodded, finding my voice. “Yes, I mean, it's a lot to take in. Are you sure a security team is necessary? Isn’t that going to be super expensive?” Ben snorted as if the expense was nothing.
Jake continued, giving me a serious look, “Well, tell me the minute you’re not okay, and we’ll put you someplace else.”
Ben wasn’t so sure about that option. “I don’t know where that would be. If this is the weirdo from her last book signing, then he started stalking her where she lives.” Then, of course, we had to tell Jake about the guy who acted so strangely.
The conversation shifted then to more practical matters—check-in times, emergency protocols, the kind of details that made the threat to my safety seem all the more real. It was a sobering discussion, one that left little room for the complexities of the emotions still swirling between Ben and me.
Jake left then, promising to check in regularly, and the door clicked shut behind him, sealing us back into our private world.
Ben turned to me. "Sophie, I need you to know, I’m taking this very seriously. I won’t let anything happen to you."
The earnestness in his voice, the intensity of his gaze, it all served to underscore the gravity of his promise. And in that moment, despite the chaos that seemed to swirl around us, I believed him.
I wanted to stay with my family, to help Madi, but Ben had made an excellent case for the security of his place. The last thing we needed was some psycho crashing Madi’s wedding prep.
The next day, three security guards showed up early and met with Ben in his study. Ben said I didn’t need to be in that meeting unless I wanted to. I didn’t. Still, the shadow of the stalker loomed a little larger with this level of security, a constant reminder of the danger just beyond the safety of Ben’s now well-guarded estate. But within the walls of his home, in the sanctuary he’d welcomed me into, there was a sense of defiance, a refusal to let fear dictate the terms of our existence.
As I sat at the breakfast table, sipping my coffee and mulling over the day ahead, my phone buzzed with a reminder of my plans with Madi. A knot of guilt tightened in my stomach. I knew I had to postpone, given that the stalker might now know that I was at Ben’s and could conceivably be watching for me to leave, but the thought of letting my sister down, especially now, weighed heavily on me.
With a heavy heart, I dialed her number, rehearsing my apology in my mind.
“Madi, hey, I’m really sorry, but I need to postpone our plans for today,” I began, wincing at the disappointment that was sure to follow.
“What? Sophie, we planned this weeks ago!” Madi’s voice came through the line, tinged with frustration and hurt. “You know how much I was looking forward to this.”
“I know, I know, and I’m really sorry. It’s just... Things have been a bit crazy over here.” I tried to explain, keeping the details vague to avoid unnecessary worry.
“Crazy how? Sophie, you’re my maid of honor. I need you here,” she pressed, her voice rising with each word.
The guilt intensified, mixing with a sense of helplessness. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, Madi. It’s just... There’s a lot going on right now that I can’t really get into over the phone.”
There was a pause, and when Madi spoke again, her voice was softer, but the undercurrent of disappointment was still there. “Fine. But we need to talk about this, Soph. In person.”
“I know, and we will. I promise,” I assured her—a promise I couldn’t afford to break. My relationships with my family, and especially my sister, were some of the most important in my life.
After we hung up, the silence of the room felt oppressive, and I went back upstairs to work on my book. If nothing else good came out of all this, I should at least end up with a really good outline and some completed chapters.
The tension from the day seemed to dissipate as Ben, Caleb, and I gathered for an impromptu family game night, something Ben insisted on to bring some normalcy back into our lives. The room was filled with the soft glow of lamps, casting a warm, inviting light over the coffee table, where Ben was already setting up the board for Monopoly.
Caleb was bouncing excitedly beside him, eager to get started. The sight of them together, so natural and at ease was heartwarming. It had surprised me at first what a great father Ben actually was. He had always come across as kind of the alpha male type, so to see his interactions with Caleb entwined with tenderness had shown me a completely unsuspected side of him.
“Alright, guys, what’s it gonna be? Who’s going to go bankrupt first?” Ben joked, his eyes twinkling as he looked around at us.
Caleb chimed in with the enthusiasm only a child could muster. “I’m gonna buy all the railroads!”
I couldn’t help but smile at their banter, the atmosphere light and filled with the kind of easy laughter that had been scarce these past few days. “I think I’ll give you a run for your money on those railroads, Caleb,” I teased, taking a seat and pulling it closer to the table.
As the game progressed, the competitive spirit grew, but so did the camaraderie. Ben was a master at balancing the cutthroat nature of the game with gentle encouragement for Caleb, guiding him with subtle hints and playful nudges.
“Watch out for Sophie, Caleb. She’s got her eye on Park Place,” Ben warned, a mock-serious expression on his face as he cast a sidelong glance my way.
I feigned indignation, “Hey, I’m just playing by the rules. Can’t help it if I’m a property magnate in the making.”
In these moments, in the playful accusations of cheating and the strategic battles over virtual real estate, I saw a future flickering on the horizon—a future where fear and danger didn’t loom so large, where the connection between Ben and me could be explored without the shadow of a stalker threatening to darken it. With any luck, we might be nothing more than a man and a woman giving a normal relationship a shot
As the evening wore on, the game ended with Caleb declared the triumphant, albeit slightly bankrupt, winner. The joy in his eyes, mirrored by the pride in Ben’s, was a beautiful thing to witness.
“Sophie, you didn’t stand a chance against the master,” Caleb boasted, his chest puffed out in victory.
I laughed, ruffling his hair. “You got me this time, champ. But watch out, I’ll be coming for the title next game night.”
Ben’s gaze met mine over Caleb’s head, a silent message passing between us—a message of hope, of potential. In the simple, joyful interactions of the evening, the complex web of our emotions seemed less daunting, the connection between us a steady flame that refused to be extinguished by the darkness of our circumstances.
Following the promises of a rematch, Ben carried Caleb off to bed, the boy’s laughter echoing through the house—a scene of domestic bliss that felt both achingly distant and tantalizingly close.
As I picked up the game pieces and put them back in the box, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of something warm and hopeful swelling within my chest. The laughter, the playful competitiveness, and the unguarded moments I’d shared with Ben and Caleb had woven a new thread into the fabric of our relationship, one marked by an intimacy and connection that felt both profound and real.
My thoughts moved on to Madi and her wedding preparations. I had promised to help her with the wedding favors, a task we’d both been looking forward to, a chance to bond and share in the excitement of her big day.
I knew that making amends would require more than just rescheduling our plans; it would require a genuine effort to reconnect, to be present for her in the way she needed me to be.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I reached out to her, arranging a time to meet and talk, to truly listen to her concerns and to share my own. It was a commitment to not just the duties of a maid of honor, but to the bonds of sisterhood, to the shared history and love that had always been our anchor.