CHAPTER 3: HIDDEN FLAMES

For the first few weeks, they tried to avoid each other. But no matter how hard they pretended, the truth remained: they were in each other’s thoughts.

One evening, after checking that the coast was clear, Jim slipped into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. As he passed the stairs leading to the verandah, he froze. Soft sobs drifted through the quiet house.

His parents were out. That left only one person. Max.

Jim hesitated, torn between leaving her alone and the ache in his chest. Finally, he gave in. Quietly, he tiptoed to the verandah. There she was, curled into herself, shoulders trembling. The sight made his heart melt.

“Hey, Max… why the tears?” he asked gently, sitting beside her.

Startled, she quickly wiped her face. “I’m not crying.”

Jim shook his head. “Max, I know tears when I see them. You miss him. I do too. But we can’t change it… we just have to find a way to let go.”

That broke the last of her strength. She collapsed into his arms, sobbing harder, and Jim felt his own eyes sting. He held her tightly, their grief wrapping them together.

Then it happened—their eyes met. For a breathless moment, time seemed to stop. Their lips drew closer, hearts pounding wildly, until…Jim pulled away.

He stood up, forcing himself to breathe, and walked off without a word. Max sat frozen, staring after him, her face flushed with confusion.

The silence he left behind spoke louder than any words.

“God help me so I don’t make a terrible mistake,” Jim prayed quietly as he entered his room.

At dinner, the silence was heavy. Jim kept his eyes glued to his plate, avoiding Max’s gaze as if it were poison. Yet he felt her eyes burning into him, piercing straight into his soul, leaving him restless and powerless.

Max shifted in her seat, trying again and again to catch his attention, but he would not look up.

Frustrated, she finally pushed her chair back and left the table in tears, hoping—desperately—that he would follow her.

In her room, she buried her face in her palms. “Damn me… what feeling is this? My own cousin? God!”

Meanwhile, his parents exchanged worried glances at the table, convinced she was still mourning her father’s death. But Jim knew better. He clenched his fists under the table and made a silent vow: he would avoid her, no matter what it cost, to resist the looming temptation.