Chapter 7: Whispers of a New Beginning

SOFIE

The soaked fabric of my wedding dress pulled at my legs with every step. Rain slid down my face, mixing with the tears I had stopped trying to hide. After a while, I couldn’t tell where the weather ended and I began.

Each drop landed like it knew me. Like it had something to say. The fabric clung tighter, heavy with water and whatever grief had stitched itself into the seams.

Somewhere close, a car door shut hard.

I looked up.

A man stepped out, tall and still in the drizzle. Water beaded on his shoulders, rolled down the lines of his suit. He moved like the rain didn’t touch him. People on the sidewalk slowed. A few stared. I couldn’t seem to do anything except watch him come closer.

His steps were slow, cautious, like he already knew I was hanging on by a thread. His expression stayed unreadable, but something in his eyes caught me. They were focused and steady. It didn’t feel invasive. It felt quiet.

He stopped just in front of me, far enough to leave space, close enough that I felt his presence like a weight.

“Sofie,” he said, barely louder than the rain, “are you... okay?”

My name hit harder than I expected. I blinked.

How does he know my name?

My throat locked up. I stared at him, trying to place the face, something in the voice. Had we met?

“No,” I said, and the word tore its way out. It scraped something raw.

He didn’t flinch. Just studied me like he was trying to figure out how much I had left in me.

“I’m James.” His voice was low and careful. “Can I take you somewhere safe?”

My chest cinched tight.

I don’t know him. I shouldn’t say yes.

But my legs were trembling. My arms were locked around myself, and the weight of the soaked dress was unbearable. Everything that had once felt permanent: plans, love, a future, was already gone.

I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be alone.

I searched his face. He didn’t look away. There was no rush in him, no demand. Only something patient, something calm. I didn’t feel afraid.

“I... I don’t know,” I whispered. My voice barely reached him.

A few people across the street pointed. Others whispered. The pity rolled off them in quiet waves.

They all know. They can see I was abandoned.

James didn’t press.

“I get it,” he said. “I know you don’t have a reason to trust me. But if you want out of this, just for a while, I can help. Is there someone I can call for you? A friend? Family?”

Claire’s name flickered in my mind. The thought of hearing her voice made my stomach twist.

I can’t let her see me like this.

I shook my head. “I don’t know where to go.” The words barely came out. “I can’t go back.”

His jaw tightened. He didn’t look away.

“You don’t have to decide anything,” he said. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t even have to explain. I just want to get you somewhere warm. Somewhere no one’s watching.”

My thoughts spun in every direction. But something in me started to settle, as if it was okay to let someone else take the next step for me.

“All right,” I said.

He didn’t hesitate. Shrugging off his coat, he stepped forward and eased it over my shoulders. The weight of it, the warmth, was comforting.

The fabric smelled faintly of cedar and something clean. His cologne, maybe. It reminded me of the woods after rain. I pulled it closer without thinking.

He opened the car door and waited.

I slid inside slowly, sinking into the cold leather seat. The chill cut through the silk, but I barely felt it. I curled into myself, still holding his coat, still half-shaking. A strange kind of quiet settled in my chest.

James got in beside me without a word. The door clicked shut, and the car eased into traffic.

I turned toward the window, forehead resting against the glass. The city slipped past in streaks of light and water. I didn’t ask where we were going. It didn’t matter. For once, I didn’t need to be in control.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. His gaze stayed on his phone, his whole body still. He typed with a kind of quiet urgency, like the words had to be right.

Maybe things will be okay, I thought, as the hum of the road and the rhythm of the rain finally started to blur everything else away.

* * *

JAMES

Stephen guided the car through the city. A horn cut through the distance, then another. The low pulse of traffic ebbed and rose, but inside the cabin, it stayed quiet.

Next to me, she slept. Her body curled beneath my jacket, drawn in like she was trying to disappear.

Streetlights rolled across her face, breaking in soft flashes over the shadows. Some of the tension in her jaw seemed to ease. The worn edges of exhaustion looked less harsh in that light.

A knot tightened in my chest, restless and sharp, that wouldn’t let go.

Why does she affect me like this?

Stephen and I caught each other’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Nothing needed to be said. 

The garage door opened, and the city faded behind us as we pulled into the private underground lot beneath my building.

I leaned close, voice low. “We’re here. I got you, you’re safe.”

Her eyelashes fluttered. Her eyes searched, unfocused at first, like she hadn’t quite landed back in her body. Then they found mine.

I stepped out and came around to her side. As I opened the door, she tried to stand, but the soaked hem of her dress clung to her legs, twisting around her ankles. She stumbled.

I caught her before she could fall, then lifted her clean off her feet. Her body tensed in my arms.

She let out a soft gasp, startled, her cheek brushing my collar. Slowly, she relaxed into me. Her weight leaned in like she couldn’t hold herself up anymore.

In the elevator, she stayed close. Her head rested beneath my chin, her body soft against mine like she’d finally run out of fight. The scent of flowers clung to her hair, faint but lingering, laced with the last trace of rain.

Neither of us spoke.

When the doors slid open, warm light spilled out across polished marble and dark wood. She didn’t move. Her gaze stayed far away, somewhere I couldn’t reach.

Mrs. Williams stood waiting in the foyer, calm as ever. But the moment her eyes landed on Sofie, taking in the soaked gown and my coat around her shoulders, something shifted. Her expression faltered for just a heartbeat before smoothing over again.

I carried Sofie past her and into the bedroom. She didn’t resist. I eased her down onto the bench at the foot of the bed. The cushion barely gave beneath her.

I dropped to one knee and worked the wet heels off her feet, careful not to jostle her. My fingers brushed against cool skin. She stayed silent. Still.

She kept her head down. “I feel so humiliated.”

Her voice was frayed. Quiet enough to break something inside me.

She sat so still, arms wrapped around herself, head bowed.

She should never feel like this.

If I could give her anything, I would start by taking this away. All of it. The hurt, the shame, the look in her eyes.

I reached for her chin and tilted it up until her eyes met mine.

“We’ll get through this. Together.”

I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But the words were already there, waiting for the moment to break free.

She didn’t respond. A single tear slipped down her cheek. I caught it with my thumb and held her gaze for one more second before letting go.

Mrs. Williams remained silent behind me, her attention sharp and steady. She understood.

I stood. “Mrs. Williams can draw you a bath or a shower, if you’d prefer,” I said gently, offering the choice like it might steady her. Something small. Something she could still claim as hers.

Sofie’s eyes found mine. Clearer now. Steady. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to.

I stepped back. “I’ll be right outside.”

Then I slipped out and pulled the door quietly closed behind me.