5. My New Stepbrother

Tallulah's POV 

 

They say a single mother and her only daughter are like twin sisters who could read the meaning of every expression on each other's face. 

 

That fact had become my weakness. We had been together since my birth and we knew each other's secrets, inside out. I could hide the truth from Kathie and Micheal in plain sight, but not from her. 

 

My gaze slightly shifted to where Mark stood, but he wasn't there. It was almost as if he had disappeared, like a ghost. My heart began to pound when I noticed that Kathie's gaze had followed mine up the stairs, and back again. 

 

She sighed. 

 

“Ignore him. He doesn't seem happy that you're here, but he'll get over it soon.” 

 

“Nice first impression, Mark!” She yelled. 

 

I began exhaling slowly in an attempt to conceal the change in my expression as my mom stared intently at me. Unknown to me, there was a little flaw in the arrangements I had made to cover up my secret affair. 

 

“It must be a fever.” Micheal announced, “She had to stop by the pharmacy a while ago to get some painkillers.” 

 

My mom's gaze narrowed, and fell to my purse which I was still squeezing. I felt uneasy when she looked into my eyes again, and surprisingly, she smiled. 

 

Her voice took a friendly, uplifting tone. 

 

“Kathie, could you take Tallulah's stuff to her room, she'll be up in a minute. I need to check her temperature.” 

 

“Alright Lillian. See you soon, Lula.” She said as she ascended the stairs. 

 

She waved at me, and I waved back as she followed Micheal upstairs, holding the smallest of my boxes. I felt it was a bit weird that she was bidding me a temporary goodbye. I mean, we literally live in the same house. She's just too sweet. 

 

I felt my mum's hand grab mine, and one tug had me following her to a door at the side of the living room. It was a little kitchen with all its walls and cupboards painted in white. 

 

“Sit.” She commanded, pointing to the concrete table that was coated with ceramic tiles. 

 

I supported myself up the table as she took out a thermometer from one of the drawers. It reminded me of the many times she would worry too much whenever I got sick. She would spend all her salary purchasing medications for me. 

 

“Open up.” She instructed, and my jaw fell ajar. 

 

She placed the instrument into my mouth and pulled out seconds later. Her expression twisted when she checked the readings to see that it was completely normal. 

 

“Mum, I'm fine. It's probably a little stress from the flight, that's all.” I explained. 

 

I gave myself a mental pat at how convincing I sounded. But I knew it would take a lot more than that to satisfy her curiosity. 

 

As I thought of the next lie to tell, she gave me the most shocking proof that she was always in my head. 

 

“You're lying to me, Lula.” She seethed, earning her a falter in my gaze and voice. 

 

“W_What do you mean? Why would I lie about it?” I managed to ask, looking away from her mind-reading eyes. 

 

“Show me the painkillers.” She requested, reaching out an open hand. 

 

My fingers began to tremble, and my voice shook, like there was an earthquake in my throat. 

 

“I don't understand. What are you getting at?” 

 

Before I could finish my statement, she forcefully grabbed my purse from beside me, pulling out its contents until she found the pack of after pills. My heart sank as she read the label on the drugs, with her eyes wide open. 

 

She gasped, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. I felt a chilling sensation down my spine at the sight of her breaking heart. She felt even more hurt than I did when I woke up to an empty bed this morning. 

 

“You promised.” She muttered, letting the tears flow freely. 

 

I felt the liquid prick my eyes, and tears obscured my vision. 

 

“Mum, it's alright. I'm 19 years old. I can get laid whenever I want. It's not a big deal.” I explained. But that didn't seem to help. 

 

Maybe it did help, but the next answers I would give would completely destroy her already broken heart. 

 

“Who is he? And how long have you known him?” 

 

I became speechless with my head downcast as I debated with my mind whether to tell her the truth or not. But deep down, I knew I could never ruin her marriage by telling her that I had an affair with my stepbrother. I know what she's capable of. She would pack her things and leave this house, away from the man she loved, just for my happiness. 

 

“I don't remember his name.” I lied, knowing how much damage my words would cause. 

 

Her sobs intensified and she began pacing back and forth, with her fingers running through her scalp. 

 

“I should've known. I should never have let you go. It's all my fault. For being a bad mother. For not protecting…” 

 

She continued blabbing on and on in regret like she had done something wrong and it was beginning to annoy me. Why does she always blame herself for my mistakes? 

 

I lost control of my temper and sprung to my feet. 

 

“Mum, it's fine! I took the fucking pill, okay?” I yelled. 

 

“Lula, it's not okay!” She yelled back, “Don’t you get it? I took the pill too, but by then, it was too late.” 

 

She let out a sigh before resuming her speech. 

 

“It's my fault that you made the same mistake, because I did too. It's like a sickness I passed unto you, and I'm sorry. Lula, I don't want you to ruin your life like I did.” 

 

She leaned back on the table behind her when she had finished expressing her pain, but mine had only just begun. It's not the first time she had told me about how she made the mistake of having unprotected sex with my father, and I was getting sick of it. 

 

I muttered something, but she didn't seem to hear me. She looked at me with a twisted expression, trying to understand what I had said, and I wasn't afraid to say it twice. 

 

“I'm your mistake, right?” I asked. 

 

“No, Lula, I didn't mean it like that.” 

 

“Then what did you mean?” 

 

She shrugged. 

 

“No Lula, you will not turn this against me. I'm not the one who just had sex with a random stranger without asking their name.” 

 

I squatted and began arranging my purse as she struggled to find her words, but I had heard enough. 

 

“I'm sorry for ruining your life, mum. Maybe it would've been better for both of us if you had taken the pill earlier than you did.” I voiced. 

 

My cold words earned me a stream of tears down her already flooded chins and a stammer in her shaky voice. 

 

“I can't do this Lula. I just can't.” She said, fleeing out of the room. 

••••••••

I had almost finished picking my stuff off the floor when I heard the sound of a clap. It was slow and quiet. I looked up to see the clown who was mocking me at this dire moment, but when I saw his face, my heart stopped. 

 

“Welldone, Miss Drama Queen. You did great.” He jeered. 

 

It was Marcus, my new stepbrother. Turns out he had been eavesdropping on our conversation. I'm infuriated by how sarcastic he sounds. He was obviously listening to know if I would tell my mum about him. I'm glad he met me in this cold state, there are some things I need to say to him. 

 

“Karma's a bitch, right?” I voiced, straightening up, 

 

“First, you trick a girl to bed you at a random hotel. Next, you flee from her room before a cock crows. But guess what? She turns out to be your step sister who you'll be stuck with for the rest of your life.” 

 

His arms remained folded and he kept his head up, paying attention to all I had to say. I wonder how he manages to be this confident all the time. 

 

I snickered. 

“And you said, ‘It's just a kiss,’ and blabbed on and on about how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. I can't believe I fell for your lies. I actually believed you loved me…” 

 

An unintentional tear dripped down my eyes, interrupting me. I tried to wipe it off so he wouldn't notice it, but it was too late. He strode forward, closing the distance between us. Soon enough we were both in the kitchen, with a slim space between us that made me uncomfortable. But deep down, I liked it. 

 

It reminded me of the way our bodies rubbed against each other, with his breath washing my face as he kissed me more than a hundred times. 

 

“Marcus, you need to stop. Someone might see us.” I begged. But he paid no attention to my plea. 

 

His hand lifted, and he slowly smothered off the tear on my chin. 

 

“Lula, I meant every word I said.” 

 

The tone in his husky voice made my heart warm, and I hated it. 

 

“Really? Then why did you leave? Why did you run, like I was some whore at a motel? I was so scared…” 

 

My words soon turned into tears, more tears than he could wipe off. I needed answers to my questions. I wanted those sexy lips to give me a tangible explanation as to why he deflowered me and fled the next morning. Wasn't I enough for him? 

 

I tried to turn away and exit the room as he closed in on me, but his hand rested upon the table top beside me, and his arm obstructed my path. 

 

I had no choice but to stare into his icy gaze, not knowing if I should fight him or kiss him. 

 

“You wanna know why I left?” He asked. 

 

I nodded, and shut my eyes as the inches between our faces thinned out. 

 

We had forgotten where we were, and we had forgotten that the door was wide open.