Slowly unfolding

In the hushed stillness of the night, Jonathan sat beside Hazel, the soft moonlight casting a gentle glow upon her peaceful form. Her chest rose and fell in a rhythm that had finally succumbed to the embrace of slumber. Her vulnerability in this moment tugged at his heartstrings, and he couldn’t help but watch her, torn between the ache of his own grief and the desire to protect her as he didn’t want history to repeat itself.

As he gazed upon her, Hazel’s hand, as if guided by some ethereal force, reached out and wrapped around his arm. Her touch sent a jolt of unexpected warmth through his veins, stirring emotions he had long buried. He didn’t understand how she effortlessly unveiled the buried emotions like that.

Jonathan dared not move, for fear of disturbing her fragile reprieve from sorrow. But when he shifted slightly, her eyes fluttered open, and in the dimness, she whispered a name that felt like a dagger to his heart.

“Mi— Michael?”

The pain in her voice was palpable, and it sliced through Jonathan’s defenses. He knew he could never replace his twin brother in her heart, but in this moment, he vowed to be the one she could lean on.

Carefully, he brushed his fingers through her hair, soothing her like a lullaby. “I’m not Michael, Hazel,” he whispered softly, his voice a gentle caress. “I’m Jonathan.”

Her eyes met his, filled with confusion and sorrow. But as he continued to trace delicate patterns on her skin, her gaze softened, and she allowed herself to relax once more.

In the stillness of that night, a profound connection blossomed between them. Jonathan, who had suffered from insomnia for two years, found himself succumbing to a deep, peaceful sleep, cradled by the woman he had no choice but to vow to protect. As their breaths synchronized, it was as if their souls had intertwined, sharing their grief and their fragile hopes for a future yet to be written.

Jonathan was struggling to get some sleep because he was hearing the countless hurtful sighs from Hazel. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

His mind started playing flashbacks:

The air was heavy with grief as the family gathered in the living room, their hearts burdened by the loss of Michael. Jonathan sat on the couch, his eyes red from crying, while his mother Stephanie paced back and forth, her face etched with a mixture of anger and sorrow. John, the father, sat beside Jonathan, his hand resting on his son's shoulder, trying to provide a semblance of comfort amidst the storm of emotions.

"Jonathan, I can't believe you let this happen!" Stephanie's voice was laced with accusation, her gaze fixed on her eldest son. "If you had been there for Michael, maybe he wouldn't be gone now."

Jonathan's heart ached with guilt, his own grief mingling with the weight of his mother's blame. "Mom, I didn't know... I couldn't have known that he was going to be in that situation."

“You’re murderer! A killer. I hate you! It’s all your fault.” If words could kill Jonathan would be dead by now. He bit his lower lip and swallowed hard because those were the words he wanted to hear from his own mother.

His eyes were a little tearful and like a little child he lookedbat his father asking for help.

John's voice was calm and soothing as he intervened, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Stephanie, blaming Jonathan won't bring Michael back. We're all hurting right now and pointing fingers won't help anyone."

“Oh come on. Jonathan has always been a disappointment. When did he ever prove me wrong?!”

Just as the atmosphere seemed to be calming slightly, a knock on the door interrupted the fragile peace. The lawyer of the family, Mr. Simmons, walked in, carrying an envelope in his hand. His expression was somber, reflecting the gravity of the situation.

"I'm sorry to intrude at this time," Mr. Simmons began, "but I need to discuss Michael's will with you all."

Stephanie's eyes narrowed, her grief momentarily overtaken by curiosity. "His will? What are you talking about?"

Mr. Simmons cleared his throat, his gaze shifting from one family member to another. "Michael signed his will recently, and according to his wishes, all of his property, assets, and belongings are to be inherited by Jonathan."

Jonathan's eyes widened in astonishment. "What? Michael left everything to me?"

The room was filled with a mixture of shock and confusion, except for Stephanie whose expression darkened even further. "This can't be right. Michael wouldn't do that without telling us. I find that so hard to believe.”

Mr. Simmons nodded solemnly. "There's more. It seems that Michael had a condition attached to this inheritance."

"What kind of condition?" John asked, his brow furrowing.

Mr. Simmons glanced down at the papers in his hands before looking up again. "Michael's will states that you, Jonathan, are to marry his wife, Hazel."

The room fell into a stunned silence. Jonathan's eyes widened in disbelief, while Stephanie's anger seemed to intensify.

"What? That's absurd!" Stephanie exclaimed, her voice a mixture of shock and disbelief. "Michael wasn't even married!"

Mr. Simmons nodded, his expression grave. "I understand that this is unexpected, but according to the legal documents, Michael was indeed married to Hazel."

Jonathan's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Confusion, shock, and grief collided within him as he tried to process the unexpected revelation. "I... I had no idea."

Stephanie's voice quivered with a mix of frustration and sorrow. "This is just one more thing he kept from us. He's gone, and now he's leaving behind a mess."

John placed a calming hand on Stephanie's arm, his voice gentle yet firm. "Stephanie, right now, we need to focus on understanding this situation and supporting each other."

As the family grappled with the new reality, the weight of loss was joined by the complex tangle of emotions stemming from Michael's unexpected will. The room remained heavy with sorrow, but also tinged with a sense of confusion and even a hint of bitterness as the truth of Michael's secret life slowly unraveled before them.

A loud knock brought Jonathan back to reality and he was surprised to see the sun was already out and he wasn’t just having hallucinations but he was dreaming about what happens just after his brother’s death.

He woke up and almost freaked out when he saw how Hazel wrapped her body around him but he carefully stood up and walked to the door.

“Took you long enough.” Chris said with a brown envelope on his hands as soon as Jonathan opened the door.

“What do you want, Chris? I hope you’re not here with one of your lectur—”

“The contract and yes we’ve prepared Michael’s funeral arrangements.” Chris gave Jonathan the contract and he turned away. Jonathan looked at him as he disappeared on the hallway and he sighed. He closed the door and looked at how peaceful Hazel was.

The early morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the opulent bathroom of the mansion. Jonathan stood under the steaming hot shower, the water cascading over his chiseled physique. The sensation of the warm water against his skin should have been soothing, but this morning, it triggered a brutal memory he could never escape.

As the water mingled with the memories, he closed his eyes, reliving the horrific night when his brother, Michael, lay in a pool of his own blood. The image clawed its way into his mind, the pain and betrayal he felt on that fateful night resurfacing.

Jonathan’s breath quickened, his chest tightening as the water ceased to comfort him. He felt suffocated by his own thoughts and guilt. He leaned against the cold tiles, desperately trying to regain control. It was a moment of weakness, one he couldn’t afford.

Then, the sound of the shower handle being turned off snapped him back to the present. Startled, he opened his eyes to find Hazel, the widow of his brother, standing nearby. Her voice quivered as she asked, “Jonathan, are you okay?”

Caught off guard, Jonathan’s initial reaction was one of annoyance. He didn’t appreciate anyone invading his personal space. He scowled at Hazel, his gaze icy. “I’m fine,” he replied curtly.

The room was filled with a palpable tension as they both realized the awkwardness of the situation. Jonathan was naked, and Hazel’s eyes darted away, her face flushing. She stammered, “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just thought you were in distress.”

Jonathan’s heart was still racing, his vulnerability exposed for a brief moment. But he quickly reasserted his cold façade, maintaining a distance between them. “Just leave, Hazel,” he ordered, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

As Hazel hastily left the bathroom, Jonathan’s thoughts were once again consumed by the dark memories that haunted him. The encounter with his brother’s widow had been a stark reminder of the twisted web of emotions and secrets that entangled their lives.

Jonathan had finished his morning routine, feeling somewhat composed after the turbulent encounter in the bathroom. As he stepped into the bedroom, he was met with an unexpected sight. Hazel had already tidied up the room and made the bed. Her actions were efficient, the room transformed into a semblance of order.

For a moment, Jonathan was taken aback by her efforts, but he quickly masked his surprise. “Hazel,” he said in his usual cold tone, “I’ll be in the living room. Get yourself ready.”

Hazel nodded, her eyes downcast as she acknowledged his command. As she watched him leave the room, a mixture of apprehension and uncertainty welled up within her. She knew that life in this mansion, under Jonathan’s watchful eye, would be far from ordinary.

She just couldn’t understand why her mind was so foggy. Taking a deep breath, she turned her attention to preparing herself, unsure of what the day would hold. When she had finished dressing and was ready to leave the room, she noticed a dress laid out on the bed. It was a delicate and elegant garment, a stark contrast to the sinister aura of the mansion. Hazel couldn’t help but wonder what this new day would bring and what Jonathan had in store for her next.