Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE OTHER SHE: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 9

NINA."Hey Bryan, your phone is going crazy again," I muttered to myself, rolling my eyes and brushing through my damp hair.“Don’t snoop around my phone!” He snapped from the bathroom and I reared back, offended as he rushed out to grab it. “I wasn’t even.” I said with a frown as he thumbed through it then sighed in relief before turning it off. He turned to me apologetically and said, “Sorry.” Brushing my hair back, he asked, “Are you okay? You look down.”I hesitated. "Yeah… just thinking.""You’re too quiet," he said, kissing my shoulder. "Talk to me.""It’s Mom," I said finally. "I’ve been thinking about her."His brows furrowed. "Your mom? It’s been, what, years, right?"I frowned at his tone. "Yeah. But sometimes it hits like it just happened. Audrey was so little, she barely remembers her. I had to step up. For her and for Dad. He nearly lost it when Mom died."Bryan met my eyes in the mirror, wary and awkward. "You never talk about this.""Because it still hurts," I whispere

NINA. The words hit me, a creeping, slow horror spreading in my stomach. I stared at him, speechless. What was there to say? The look he gave me was so angry and almost hateful. I stepped forward, hands outstretched to do what? Apologize, do something…But he took a step back from me and my heart fell to the ground. I hated disappointing him because I loved him. With a clenched jaw and no other words, he grabbed his coat and left. ——-I didn't speak to Dad for almost two weeks. He called, texted, even sent Mom by once, but I wouldn't speak to him. I wasn't ready. I was still too angry. And maybe… maybe I was scared too. Scared of what he'd say. Scared of what I'd do if I let myself forgive him. Scared that he was right. Meanwhile, my relationship with Bryan had reached rock bottom. He barely even spoke to me anymore, and when he did, it was curt, icy. It was like I was the one who got him fired. Like I was the reason his life fell apart. He no longer came home most nights, and whe

NINA. Was I dead? I didn’t know. I was floating, drifting somewhere in nothingness, weightless, thoughtless. Time didn’t exist here. I didn’t exist here. Not until I saw a light.It flickered at first, a tiny dot on the horizon. Then it grew, shifting, extending, twisting into shapes, hues, memories. I was moving toward it, drawn like a moth to flame, like something inside me knew it.And then I was there.A tangy scent filled the air; paint. The metallic smell of acrylics and oil paints, turpentine and canvas. The air was hot, alive with laughter.I stood in the midst of a bright studio, walls smudged with smears of color, swooping abstract brushstrokes, half-finished pieces everywhere. My dad knelt beside little Audrey, both of them smothered in paint.My breath hitched.Dad.Alive. Well. Young.My heart hurting, I went closer, letting myself take everything in, the glint of joy in his eyes, the way that his smile drew lines on either side of his face, the blue smudge of pain

NINA.That was a brief but tense moment before the man centered his gaze at me again and exchanged another glance with the nurse. "I'll take care of that." He instructed her that he would be out shortly. The nurse assured him and went out, and he looked back at me with a forced smile that was hopefully meant to ease my nerves."Who might that be?" I managed to ask lightly. The man shrugged. "your sister ... Don't worry about it, honey. I'll handle it." I nodded, and smiled . What could she possibly want now , I mean I don't know Laurel's sister and how she behaved toward them? I had to keep the act up that much more, but anxiety was chewing me out badly. "Well, son," he told our son, "go play in the corner with the toys for a minute while Momma and I talk to this person." The little boy nodded and took off to play. The man turned to me and looked me in the eye: "I'll be right back." You just stay here ags rest okay, the man said to me .I nodded and was doing my best to act wea

NINA. “Noooooooo”, I screamed, this can't be happening. My eyes were still fixed on the television and the videotape of my stepmother, Carla , showcased she was facing a conference-full audience of reporters. Impressive and determined, unlike the appalling disgust I felt at that moment. "It's no longer a secret," came her voice, ringing clear and strong. "Sean and I have been in this relationship, and we are proud of it." The frenzy of questioning and camera-clicking was interrupted by Carla, for her voice broke through the sound. "The love we feel for each other can never make us feel ashamed," she said, eyes fixed on Uncle Sean next to her, holding her hand. "We are, in fact, taking it to the next level.” We're getting married soon." With gasps of air here and shouts there, the crowd erupted. It punched me in the gut and made it impossible for me to believe I was seeing my stepmom marry my uncle. What a nightmare I realized. Once the video was completed, the voice-over of th