Chapter 193
Sophia
My fingers threaded through Blake's thick hair as his lips pressed against mine, gentle yet insistent. The weight of his body against mine was familiar now, comforting in ways I never thought possible again. His hands traced my sides, exploring curves he'd memorized years ago but still touched with reverent fascination.
"Sophia," he whispered against my neck, his breath hot against my skin.
I arched into him as his mouth moved lower, his tongue tracing patterns that made me gasp. His hands slipped beneath the thin fabric of my nightgown, pushing it upward until there was nothing between us. The heat of his skin against mine sent electricity through my veins, and I wrapped my legs around him, drawing him closer.
"God, I need you," I breathed, my voice barely recognizable with desire. My hands traveled down his back, feeling the muscles tense beneath my fingertips as he positioned himself above me.
When we joined, I cried out softly, my body welcoming him with a familiarity that still somehow felt new. He moved with deliberate slowness at first, his eyes locked on mine, watching every reaction, every flutter of pleasure that crossed my face. I bit my lower lip as the sensation built, my hips rising to meet his with increasing urgency.
After everything we'd been through—the lies, the pain, the long road back to each other—these moments of complete connection still felt miraculous. My nails dug into his shoulders as he quickened his pace, my body responding instinctively to his rhythm.
"Blake," I gasped, my back arching as waves of pleasure crashed through me. He followed moments later, my name a groan against my throat as his body tensed and then relaxed against mine.
When it was over, Blake pulled me against his chest, his heartbeat gradually slowing beneath my ear. Within minutes, his breathing deepened as he drifted into sleep. I lay awake, watching shadows play across the ceiling, mentally reviewing my schedule for tomorrow—a meeting with our wedding planner, a video call with Mia to check on her new apartment, and a visit to Jasper at the hospital.
I smiled to myself, thinking about how well Jasper was doing. The doctors were optimistic he could come home within a week, just in time for our small wedding ceremony. Despite everything, it felt like our makeshift family was finally finding its footing.
Sleep was just beginning to claim me when Blake shifted suddenly, his arm tightening around my waist.
"No," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "Don't... Amanda, please..."
My entire body froze. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. It felt like someone had just punched me straight in the gut. Blake's arm was heavy across my waist, effectively pinning me to the bed, and for a second, I felt like I might actually throw up.
"Blake," I whispered, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. My heart hammered so violently I was sure it would wake him. I tried again, louder this time. "Blake, wake up."
His eyes snapped open, momentarily unfocused before finding mine in the darkness.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice raspy.
I studied his face, noting the way his eyes darted away from mine, unable to hold my gaze. My hands trembled violently, and I gripped the sheets so hard my knuckles turned white. The familiar sting of tears threatened behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
"You were talking in your sleep," I said carefully, measuring each word while my mind screamed a thousand obscenities.
"Just a nightmare," he replied too quickly, pulling away slightly. "Sorry if I woke you."
My heart hammered against my ribs as I forced myself to say the words: "You said Amanda's name. You also used our safe word..."
Blake went completely still beside me. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I felt a sharp twisting sensation in my stomach, like someone had taken a knife and slowly turned it. My throat tightened painfully as I waited for him to say something—anything—that could make this okay.
"It wasn't—" he started, then stopped. "I was just having a bad dream."
Bullshit. I sat up, pushing the covers away from me. Despite the warm summer night, I suddenly felt cold all the way to my bones. The chill spread from my chest outward, numbing my fingertips.
"Sophia, it was just a dream," Blake insisted, sitting up beside me. "With everything that's happened, with Jasper and the hospital... I've been under a lot of stress."
I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to hold my breaking pieces together. "You weren't just saying her name, Blake," I said, my voice cracking slightly. "You were... you were moaning. You fucking laughed. You moved your body and... and you breathed hard while you said her name."
The words felt like acid on my tongue. My stomach churned violently as the images his sleep-talking had conjured played in vivid detail behind my eyes. Was he dreaming about her? About being with her?
His face paled in the dim light filtering through the window. "It wasn't what you think," he said, but his voice was tight, strained.
I looked directly into his eyes, searching for the truth. "You're lying."
His expression hardened. "I'm not lying."
"Yes, you are," I insisted, my voice rising slightly. "I've heard you lie to business associates, to your mother, to reporters. I know what it sounds like when you lie, Blake. Your voice gets this edge to it, and you can't quite maintain eye contact."
Blake's jaw tightened. "Fine. You want the truth? I don't know why I said her name. I don't remember the dream. Is that better?"
I took a deep breath, steadying myself for what I needed to say next. My stomach twisted into painful knots. "This isn't the first time, Blake."
He stared at me, momentarily speechless. "What?"
"This isn't the first time," I repeated softly, each word like a knife twisting deeper into my own heart. "You've been saying her name in your sleep for weeks now."
"And you didn't tell me?" His voice rose slightly, incredulous. "Why wouldn't you tell me something like that?"
Are you fucking kidding me right now? My cheeks burned with a mixture of anger and humiliation. I shrugged helplessly. "It never seemed like the right time to say, 'Hey, by the way, you keep moaning your dead ex's name while you sleep next to me.'"
Blake threw off the covers and stood up, pacing the room in his boxers. "So now who's keeping secrets?" he demanded, his voice tight with anger. "You've been listening to me talk in my sleep for weeks and decided not to mention it?"
The accusation stung, but I recognized the deflection tactic. My father used to do the same thing—turn his wrongdoing around on someone else.
Blake sighed heavily, his anger seeming to deflate. "Look, I don't know why I said her name. I don't have feelings for Amanda. She's gone, Sophia."
"I know she's gone," I said softly, my throat tight with unshed tears. "But she's clearly still in your head."
And that's what terrified me. After everything, was I still competing with a dead woman? The thought made me want to scream until my lungs gave out, to throw something against the wall and watch it shatter.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked, spreading his hands in frustration. "I can't control what I dream about."
"No, you can't," I agreed, moving toward him. "But you can be honest with me about it. The first time it happened, why didn't you tell me?"
Blake stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "I guess I didn't want you to worry."
I stood in front of him now, close enough to touch but maintaining a careful distance. "I trust you, Blake," I said, my voice steady despite the hurricane raging inside me. "I've put my entire life—my future, my daughter's future—in that trust."
Blake reached for my hand, and this time I let him take it, though every instinct screamed at me to pull away. "I know," he said softly. "And I'm not going to betray that trust. Not ever again."
I wanted to believe him. God, how I wanted to believe him. But as I looked into his eyes, I couldn't help wondering what other secrets might be locked away in his subconscious, waiting to surface in the darkness. What other parts of Amanda still lived in him? And where did that leave me?