Chapter 8

Mom's eyes enlarge as she surveys the area as soon as we enter the front door.

"This place appears much larger than I recall." She cocks her head, taking in the polished floors, high ceilings, and open floor plan.

Giacomo leans in and grins proudly, "I helped pick it."

I don't answer.

"You won't say I performed well?" I don't move when he frowns playfully.

I pull my suitcase forward and shake my head. The house is much larger than our previous location, which makes it impressive. How much it costs is beyond me.

Mom puts her hands together in a clap. "I know you two must be exhausted; take a nap." Take a nap. The joy in her voice is almost infectious, and her wedding gown continues to sparkle in the lights. Nearly.

"Good night." I start up the stairs, my voice barely audible.

Giacomo rushes ahead before I can even choose which room to take. “I’ll take this one.” He grips the door handle to the right.

I glance at the left room. I then turn back to face him. “I got here first.”

“But I called it first.”

“You’re so childish.”

He just chuckles, pushes the door open, and disappears inside before I can argue.

With an exhausted sigh, I drag my suitcase into the room left behind. The first thing I do is kick off my shoes, stretching my aching feet. The space is huge, already furnished, and already set up. I just have to unpack.

"All right? What are your thoughts?

The voice makes me spin toward the door. Mom smiles as she peeks in.

"You frightened me, Jesus."

She chuckles. "I wanted to check in; sorry."

"Enter now." She enters after I wave her inside, still beaming with happiness from the wedding. Her finger's diamond ring almost gleams. It appears to be correct. As if it were supposed to be there.

"All right?" She prods.

I look around before responding. It's pleasant. The house appeals to me. It is silent. near a school. The decorations are excellent.

Satisfied, she smiles. "Come on over here."

She puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me onto the bed. The warmth of her embrace calms the nerves I was unaware existed.

"I appreciate today. You don't realize how much it meant.

"Mom, you are loved."

As though I were still her little girl, she rocked me slightly while humming softly. I allowed myself to lose myself in the infrequent moment of tranquility.

She eventually retreats. "All right, I'll let you unpack. Please try to get some rest.

I give a nod.

After she leaves, I collapse onto the bed and gaze at the white ceiling.

new residence. new individuals. This is the new normal.

With my eyes fixed on the wall, I turn over onto my side. Just past it is Giacomo's room.

He was just a voice on the other end of the phone not long ago. He is now my stepbrother next door.

The morning sun pierces my window, rousing me from my slumber.

With a moan, I press my face against the pillow and then push myself to stand. It still feels strange in this room. Everything has a place, but none of it is mine yet.

I'm yawning. I emerge into the corridor. The door to Giacomo's is closed.

I go downstairs. There is silence in the house. Too silent.

"Mom?" My voice reverberates. No answer.

I enter the kitchen around the corner—

And then freeze.

With his back to me, Giacomo stands at the counter. He is not wearing a shirt.

My mouth becomes parched.

Even though I've seen him without a shirt before, this feels different. Every little movement causes his back muscles to change. His sweatpants droop dangerously low. He walks around the kitchen as if he's been there all his life.

Put an end to your staring.

I lean against the doorway and shake my head. He hasn't noticed me yet.

This is absurd. Giacomo is the only one.

Giacomo is just a really good-looking guy.

I clear my throat.

I'm mid-stare when he turns.

"Hey, you're awake." His hair is messier than usual, and his voice is rough from sleep. His sweatpants have a flash of red boxers visible, the zipper is a little down, and the belt is undone.

I look up abruptly.

"Where is everybody?"

"I have no idea. Dad texted to say that he had to go somewhere with your mom. I should return later.

"Oh."

Grinning, he picks up a coffee mug. "It appears that we have the entire place to ourselves."

"Are you not planning something?"

"Perhaps." He smiles. "Do you want coffee?"

"Yes." I take a step in his direction.

He glances down. "Whoa."

I scowl. "What?"

"You look... different." He keeps looking at my pajamas, which consist of loose shorts and a button-down shirt with short sleeves. "I don't believe I've ever seen you wear something like that."

I look down. It's merely pajamas.

"I've previously worn pajamas around you."

"These pajamas are not for me." With his arms folded, he reclines against the counter. "Your legs look fantastic."

My face gets hot.

"What?" That's all I can do.

He grins more broadly. I'm merely informing you. You look lovely in those.

I almost let the mug fall.

"Giacomo!"

He laughs. "What? Do you find receiving compliments unpleasant?

In the hopes that he won't see my burning cheeks, I turn away.

He takes a step forward. Too near. I can feel the warmth of his bare skin from this close.

"I always give you compliments."

My eyes dart down to his chest and then snap back up as I swallow.

His mouth.

There they are.

I must relocate. Speak up. Anything.

"Cease it." I give his chest a gentle shove. On the way down, my fingers brush against his skin, leaving a lingering warmth.

I want to do it again for a moment.

He takes a step back and laughs. "You adore my praise."

"Loser."

"Only you call me that."

I take a sip of my coffee to cover up my foolish grin.

Giacomo stretches. "I'm getting hungry. What ought we to eat?

"I'm not in the kitchen."

"We could share a kitchen."

"Are there any groceries here? The house is brand-new.

"All right."

The sound of our laughter reverberates throughout the kitchen.

I don't feel bad about this.

This is where I woke up to him. Making jokes.

It almost seems normal.

The doorbell rings.

Giacomo gets excited. "That's for me."

He puts down his mug and makes his way to the front door.

I follow, curious, but not quite close enough to see.

A girl enters as the door opens.

She encircles his waist with her arms. He places his hands on her back.

Janet.

The wedding girl was in attendance.

I'm eager to see more.

I'm back in the kitchen, gripping the counter and looking down at my coffee. I have no idea why my hands shake.

You were aware of this. You were aware of his identity. What's causing the pain?

I force the bitter taste in my throat down with a forceful swallow.

This is the truth.

What did I think this morning?

It is only a dream.