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The first thing Sophie noticed was that the kite was gone.
Not gone entirely.
Just moved.
The enormous half-finished installation that had once dominated the corner of Benedict’s study now hung above his bed, suspended from the ceiling by nearly invisible wire.
Even unfinished, it was beautiful.
Hundreds of scraps of paper.
Sketches.
Paint splatters.
Handwritten wishes collected from strangers.
Two years of dust and abandonment.
Two years of memories neither of them had been brave enough to touch.
Sophie stared at it.
“You moved it.”
Benedict glanced up from where he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. “I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.”
Her chest tightened.
She wasn’t sure why, to him it was just a Kite but to her…
It was every late night they’d spent together.
Every takeaway that had been shared on his bedroom floor.
Every accidental brush of fingers.
Every moment she had fallen in love with him and pretended she hadn’t.
“Oh.” It was all she could manage.
Benedict watched her for a moment, taking in her expression because to him… the kite was everything.
Every shared glance, every shared laugh, the moment he realised that his entire world evolved around his best friend in a way that made his heart ache for more, and he could help but wonder if there was more to her “oh” that was implied.
The silence that fell between them felt familiar.
Too familiar.
The sort of silence best friends perfected after years of knowing each other.
The sort of silence that had become unbearable lately, the sort of silence that never bode well for a friendship.
They’d barely seen each other over the last few weeks, not since he’d started seeing Louis, they still hung out but not all the time…
Sophie moved towards the window, lost in her own thoughts for a moment as rain tapped softly against the glass, it was typical London weather.
It was typical Benedict weather, she thought, Grey skies that came with too many feelings and not enough honesty but because she was too afraid to voice the question that was in her head, the question about why he had kept the kite, she simply said the thing she’d observed when she’d arrived at Benedict’s flat, “You broke up with him.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Benedict laughed quietly
“Did Kate tell you?”
“No.”
She folded her arms, “Your fridge did.”
That earned a smile, A small one but it was gone almost immediately.
Neither of them mentioned the fact that Sophie always noticed when someone disappeared from Benedict’s life, she always seemed to know when he’d been dumped or dumped someone…
Neither of them mentioned the fact that she hated herself for noticing.
“He was nice.”
Benedict nodded. “He was.”
“And?”
His shoulders rose and fell. “And nothing.”
Sophie looked away, because she already knew.
Nothing.
Always nothing.
Months of excitement.
Months of obsession.
Then eventually Benedict would leave.
Or they would.
And Sophie would tell herself she was relieved because he deserved better than people who didn’t understand him.
When really, really she was relieved because she was selfish.
Because she loved him.
Because every relationship felt like watching someone borrow something that had never belonged to them.
She hated herself for it.
“You know,” she said quietly, “I don’t understand why you keep doing it.”
Benedict frowned. “Doing what?”
“This.”
Her hand gestured vaguely. “Starting things.”
His expression shifted. “You think I do it on purpose?”
“I think you know they won’t last.”
The room went still, dangerously still, the way it always did when they accidentally stumbled too close to the truth.
Sophie swallowed. “I think you fall in love with the idea of people.”
His jaw tightened. “And then?”
“And then you leave when you get too close.” The words came out sharper than she intended.
Because she was angry, not at him, no, she was angry at herself.
For still wanting him.
For still hoping.
For still wondering what it would feel like if he ever looked at her the way he looked at everyone else, but she knew he never would.
They were friends. She didn’t want to ruin it for something that wouldn’t last. Her soul couldn’t take it being temporary. Her entire being couldn’t cope. Not after years of being told no one would ever stay.
Benedict stood and the movement startled her. “Sophie.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Forget it.”
“Sophie.” His voice was different now, it was low, serious.
Her heart began to pound.
Because she knew that voice, that was Benedict on the verge of saying something he couldn’t take back.
“You think I leave because I can’t commit to things.”
She looked away. “Don’t I know you well enough to know that’s true?”
A harsh laugh escaped him. “You know me well. Better than I know myself sometimes.”
Something in his tone made her look up and she saw Benedict staring at her, not casually, not even affectionately.
But like she was the answer to a question he’d spent years trying to solve.
And suddenly Sophie couldn’t breathe.
“You want to know why none of them lasted?”
“Benedict…”
“No.” He took a step closer. “No, don’t… I can’t… I’m tired.”
Another step. “I’m tired of pretending.”
The room felt smaller, the air felt heavier.
Every nerve in her body began to awaken
“Benedict…”
“I kept thinking something was wrong with me.”
His voice cracked, just slightly, but enough, enough to break her heart.
“I thought maybe I just wasn’t built for commitment.”
His laugh was hollow, “Anthony certainly thought so.”
Despite herself, Sophie almost smiled.
“But then I realised something.”
He was close now.
Far too close.
And still not close enough.
His eyes locked onto hers.
And for the first time in years, Benedict Bridgerton stopped hiding.
“It wasn’t commitment I couldn’t do.”
Sophie’s pulse thundered in her ears.
“It was everyone else.”
Her breath caught and the room disappeared, even the rain disappeared.
Everything disappeared except him, and the impossible look on his face.
“Every relationship.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Every man, Every woman had the same problem.”
His eyes never left hers. “They weren’t you.”
Sophie’s entire world tilted. “No.” The word escaped automatically.
Because it couldn’t be true, it simply couldn’t. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
Emotion clogged her throat, “You’ve had dozens of chances to choose someone.”
Benedict’s expression shattered. “Sophie.”
His voice was raw now. broken open. “I’ve spent years choosing everyone except the person I actually wanted.”
Tears blurred her vision.
“No.”
Because she couldn’t survive this if he wasn’t serious, she knew she couldn’t survive hoping
Not after a lifetime of being told she wasn’t enough, not after Araminta, not after years of feeling unwanted.
Benedict closed the last of the distance between them until there was barely any space left.
His hand lifted and hesitated before it cupped her cheek.
The touch was gentle, reverent.
As though she were something precious.
Something worth keeping.
Something worth choosing.
Sophie nearly broke. “You don’t understand.” Her voice trembled. “I am not someone people choose. I am not… I am the person people forget, who gets left behind… unwanted, abandoned"
Benedict’s eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like heartbreak. “Oh, Soph.”
His forehead rested against hers, and suddenly she realised he was shaking, just as badly as she was.
His gaze flickered upward.
Towards the unfinished kite hanging above them.
The thing neither of them had ever been able to finish.
The thing neither of them had ever been able to let go.
A sad smile touched his lips.
“You are not that kite in my study.”
The tears finally spilled down Sophie’s cheeks and Benedict brushed them away. Tenderly.
Like he hated every one of them, because he knew exactly why she was thinking what she was thinking. He knew exactly what his precious girl had been through, and it was part of the reason he’d been afraid for so long…
As he wiped her cheek he whispered, “You're the person I have been searching for all my life. I love you. I love you.”
He paused, almost overcome with emotion as his voice dipped even lower, to barely above a whisper now “I love you… ”
Something inside Sophie snapped, not painfully, not violently, like a knot finally coming undone.
Years of fear, years of longing, years of convincing herself she was impossible to love… suddenly disappeared.
She finally believed his words and so she kissed him.
The second her lips found his, Benedict made a sound that was half laugh, half groan of relief.
His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, like she couldn’t be close enough. It was not enough, it would never be enough.
Sophie smiled against his mouth and Benedict smiled back.
Because suddenly neither of them were pretending anymore.
Neither of them were running.
Neither of them were settling for almost.
The kiss deepened.
Slow at first.
Then desperate.
Years of stolen glances and unsaid words finally catching up with them.
Benedict rested his forehead against hers when they finally broke apart.
Breathing hard.
Laughing helplessly.
Looking happier than she’d ever seen him.
“There you are.”
Sophie’s eyes stung.
“Where?”
His thumb brushed her cheek.
The fondness in his gaze was almost unbearable.
“There you are.”
Like he’d finally found home.
And maybe he had.
Because for the first time since they’d started building that stupid kite two years ago, neither of them were fighting anymore.
At last, they let themselves fall.