What Still Lingers
1143 Words
Sofia stirred beneath the soft weight of a warm quilt, sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains and painting quiet gold across her face. For the first time in years, she had slept deeply—without dreams, without fear. Only stillness.
For a long moment, she lay there, cocooned in the unfamiliar calm, the silence pressing gently around her like another layer of fabric. Then, slowly, she pushed the covers back and stepped onto the wooden floor, barefoot.
Descending the stairs, she paused halfway. Laughter drifted from the kitchen—familiar voices in harmony. Her chest constricted.
Mara. She was here again.
Sofia inhaled and forced her feet forward. When she reached the bottom step, Mara looked up and smiled like nothing had ever been broken. “Come, have some breakfast. There’s plenty.”
The tension from yesterday had softened, perhaps not gone entirely, but blurred at the edges. The kitchen smelled of warm butter and fresh coffee. Mara moved with effortless grace, spooning macaroni onto a plate and leaning close to Liam to top off his as well. The gesture was easy, intimate.
Sofia offered a quiet thank-you as she sat down across from them. The three of them ate in a kind of uneasy harmony, the conversation light, touches of laughter stitched between spoonfuls. It felt like pretending to be a version of themselves from another life—one where there had never been bruises or lies, or choices they couldn’t take back.
Eventually, Liam rose to get ready. His footsteps retreated through the hallway, and then it was just the two women again, the quiet between them heavier now.
Mara set down her fork. “You must be wondering what I am to Liam,” she said, her tone casual but laced with something guarded. “I’m his… girlfriend.”
There was a pause. A small stutter in her voice gave the word weight, as though she wasn’t sure if it belonged to her.
Sofia met her eyes. She had already known. She saw it in the way Liam’s eyes followed Mara, in the subtle things he never did for anyone else. The way he allowed her presence to soften his silence.
“I know,” Sofia said quietly. “And I’m sorry. I never should’ve come here. I didn’t mean to intrude. I had nowhere else—” Her voice cracked. She looked down, cheeks flushed, shame flooding her.
Mara stood and, without hesitation, moved behind her. Her arms circled Sofia’s shoulders in a gentle embrace.
“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “I know everything. About Matteo. About what you went through. Liam told me.” She gave a small squeeze. “You’re safe here, Sofia.”
Sofia’s breath caught. Something unspooled in her chest—not just relief, but confusion. Why was Mara not angry? Why was she kind?
Mara returned to her seat, fingers laced together in her lap. “He didn’t tell me all at once. But I saw it in the way he changed when your name came up. I think I knew before he said it out loud. That someday, you'll come.”
Sofia swallowed hard, her throat burning. She had envied Mara—her beauty, her strength, her place beside Liam. But sitting across from her now, all she felt was gratitude.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Mara smiled, and it wasn’t triumphant or cold. It was full of light. The kind of smile that softened sharp edges. The kind of smile that healed.
The back door creaked open. Liam returned with sunglasses in hand. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”
Sofia managed a small smile. “No, it’s safer here.”
“Alright,” he said. “There’s food in the fridge. Just heat it up in the oven if you get hungry.”
She watched them walk out together. Mara reached for his hand, their fingers weaving together naturally. The door clicked shut behind them.
Silence settled once more.
But this silence felt different. Not hollow, not waiting for something terrible. Just… quiet. Peaceful.
Sofia stood alone in the kitchen. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel the urge to flee. Not yet. Maybe not at all.
She poured another cup of coffee, sat by the window, and let herself breathe. One slow sip at a time.
POLICE STATION
The missing person’s report had been easy to file. Too easy.
Matteo leaned over the precinct counter, the pen still warm between his fingers. Behind the glass, a junior officer entered Sofia’s details into the system with cold precision. Another name, another case.
But this wasn’t just a case. This was his wife.
And he was a cop.
The wheels turned faster for men like him. A few words, a flash of his badge, and doors opened. Warnings bypassed. Calls made.
He stepped outside and pulled out his phone, dialing from memory.
“Gabriel,” he said, his voice low and clipped.
“Matteo.” The voice on the other end was familiar—sharpened by years in the force, worn by secrets. “It’s been a while.”
“I need a favor. I think she’s with him.”
“Liam?”
“Yeah. I want everything on him. Where he lives, what he does, how many steps he takes a day.”
There was a pause. Then, “Alright. I’ll get back to you.”
Matteo lit a cigarette as he stepped into the fading light, the afternoon sun hot on his neck. Smoke curled around his face, harsh and bitter. His thoughts spiraled.
He had taken her.
From Liam. From the boy she grew up with. From the man who understood her better than Matteo ever could. And yet, even in possession, he had never truly had her.
She had always looked over his shoulder, toward some ghost behind her.
Now she had run. He knew it. Felt it in his bones.
Back to Liam.
Back to the man she still loved—maybe always had.
The flame of jealousy sparked again, steady and consuming.
His phone buzzed.
Gabriel.
“Liam Reyes. CEO now. Legal consultancy firm. Keeps a clean record. Lives in a gated subdivision near his main office. Quiet. Routine. Nothing suspicious.”
Matteo ground his cigarette beneath his boot. “When are we going?”
“Monday morning. I’ll be at your place.”
“Good.”
He hung up.
There was a thrill in his chest. Not quite hope—something darker.
He knew Sofia was there.
She had run to Liam for safety. For love. For things Matteo never gave her.
But she was his.
And he would bring her back—
Before Liam ever had the chance to win her again.
- Writer
