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Chapter One Hundred And Three
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2025-07-18 05:03:05
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RECKLESS DESIRES: THE ODEN LEGACY Chapter One Hundred And Four
"Sorry," Stacy replied, voice calm and firm.The community center had a small crowd—survivors, volunteers, and contributors from both The Bloom Initiative and from local support groups. Banners read Healing Without Judgment and New Beginnings. Stacy stood at a plain podium, hands clasped as in prayer.Amiriam sat in the front row beside Luke and James. The air was thick. Too quiet. James, too, shifted beside her.Stacy breathed slowly, looking around the room. "I've spent three years rebuilding. Strengthening women, learning accountability. I know I don't deserve it. But I deserve to be heard. To face what I broke."She waited, letting the words hang in the room."I hurt people. Some of you were collateral damage. I never intended to, but I did. I apologize." Amiriam's gut twisted. The apology sounded practiced—written. But the atmosphere in the room shifted. Some women wiped tears. A few clapped. Luke kept his silence, jaw set.Stacy continued: "I'm collaborating with a trauma group
RECKLESS DESIRES: THE ODEN LEGACY Chapter One Hundred And Three
"She might still be alive."Dr. Reiner's statement dropped like a knife into quiet water. The office was warm, full of gold-soft light and Mozart music humming in the distance—but Amiriam chilled. Shuddering, deep chill.She blinked. "Sorry. What?"Dr. Reiner nodded forward, his voice calm but firm. "Your mother. I believe she is still alive."Amiriam looked. "She was present at my first marriage. I remember. She left shortly afterward. That was close to thirteen years ago.""I know. But based on your recent diaries and memory patterns. I don't believe she just walked out. I believe she was cast out. Or chose exile based on something deeper."Amiriam's throat closed up. "You're telling me she didn't leave the family. she disappeared for a purpose?Dr. Reiner nodded slowly. "Something in what you said at that time—the inconsistencies regarding how your sisters speak of her, how you zone out when she's mentioned. It suggests trauma. Or secrets.""She told me she was going to 'find herse
RECKLESS DESIRES: THE ODEN LEGACY Chapter One Hundred And Two
"I discovered something," Luke said, the envelope loosely held in his palm.Mrs. Oden didn’t lift her gaze from her tea. Her aged hands, draped in gold rings, trembled slightly as she stirred honey into the bubbling cup. The spoon clinked softly against porcelain, the only sound in the sunny breakfast nook where light danced on ivory tiles."Where?" she asked, finally glancing at him.“In one of the drawers in the old desk in Jackson’s office. Buried under financials. Looks like it was forgotten there.”Her expression didn’t flicker. “What is it?”Luke stared down at the yellowed envelope. The ink had faded, but the handwriting was unmistakably hers.“To me?” she asked.Luke nodded. “It’s got your name on it. But I hadn’t seen it before. Not once.”Mrs. Oden reached out for the envelope, but Luke instinctively pulled it back. “You didn’t put it there, did you?”“No,” she said quietly. “It must’ve… slipped through the cracks. Or maybe Jackson—” Her voice trailed off, her hand returning
RECKLESS DESIRES: THE ODEN LEGACY Chapter One Hundred And One
"Why doesn't anyone see your father?"It was said during snack time, in harsh and blunt words, like a boulder thrown through stained glass. James winced at the boy across the table, an orange-fingered boy with a brash, wide mouth that put punchlines into all his words.James did not answer right away. He chewed slowly on his apple instead, narrowing his eyes, compressing his lips into a straight line—the way Amiriam had taught him when he was still speechless.The other boys were gaping now."My brother picks me up," James answered after a while, quietly, even politely. "His name's Luke."The boy snorted. "That’s not what I asked. I mean your real dad. No one's ever seen him."James blinked. "He’s just… busy.""Sure," the boy said with a smirk. "Busy for six years? Sounds fake. Brothers don’t count. They're not real dads."James didn’t reply. He just turned around.But stillness persisted.— That night, when the sky became pink and the garden outside was filled with cicadas' hums, Am
RECKLESS DESIRES: THE ODEN LEGACY Chapter One-Hundred
"Want me to read it to you?" Luke whispered, his hand brushing Amiriam's arm as she sat cross-legged on their porch, the sun dropping low behind her, casting golden edges on the outline of her form.Amiriam looked down at the journal in her lap—leather-bound, worn creases at the corners, filled with years of her writing. Her fingers caressed the last page."No," she breathed. "Not him. This one's for quiet."James was sleeping in there, wrapped on the couch with a comic book still on his chest. The garden was quiet, the air being hushed with that holy silence only the end of a very, very long journey could possess.Luke didn't push. He just sat beside her, his hand over hers.She breathed slowly and closed her eyes, her voice little more than a whisper as she started to read—not for him, but for herself.—Last Journal EntryDate: One year after deciding to remain. Three hundred and sixty-five days of attempting, healing, hoping. And loving.It wasn't a fairytale.I have to start with
RECKLESS DESIRES: THE ODEN LEGACY Chapter Ninety-nine
“Does my bow tie look crooked?” Luke asked, standing in front of the mirror, fumbling with the pale linen knot.Zack leaned against the doorway, grinning. “You’ve redone it six times. It’s not the bow tie, man. It’s the nerves.”Luke exhaled, tugging it one more time before giving up. “How do people do this and stay calm?”You're not human beings. You're Luke Oden. The one who endured fire for love. You've got this," Zack said, stepping up behind him and adjusting the tie in two swift motions. "And besides, she's probably ten times more nervous."Luke laughed. "She isn't. Amiriam doesn't get nervous. She breathes it away and writes it poetry."Zack playfully elbowed his shoulder. "Well then, you're marrying poetry."---ávisA few doors down the corridor, Amiriam was in the doorway of an enormous window, the soft golden light of dawn spilling around her like a blessing. Her dress was austere—plain silk, off-white, low-backed and thin-strapped. Beautiful. Unpretentious. Like her.Rita
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