The Stepbrother

Joella

"I’m Getting Married!!!"

I sat at the kitchen table, my mouth slightly ajar, struggling to process the bombshell my mom had just dropped. Married? To whom? What? My thoughts spiraled like a runaway carousel. She was getting married? How could this be happening? I hadn’t even met the guy. What if I didn’t like him? Worse—what if he didn’t like me? Did he have kids? What if we couldn’t stand each other? My heart thundered in my chest, the beginnings of panic clawing their way up my throat.

“Honey, don’t look so afraid. He’s wonderful. You’re going to love him when you meet him,” Mom said, practically glowing. Her gaze kept darting to the massive rock on her left hand, a diamond so big it practically had its own gravitational pull.

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my breakfast where it belonged. Words escaped me, but the knot in my stomach didn’t. Finally, I forced out a whisper.

“Are you sure about this?”

My voice sounded foreign, hollow. Even to me. My emotions felt like an overstuffed suitcase, everything spilling out at once.

“I’m so sure, Joella,” she said softly, her eyes sparkling. “He makes me so happy.”

I nodded, more out of habit than agreement. The lump in my throat swelled, making it hard to breathe. Mom’s expression shifted; her excitement dimmed as concern flickered in her eyes. She reached toward me, but I pulled back instinctively.

“When do I meet him?” I asked, pasting on a smile so tight it hurt.

Her face lit up again, relief washing over her. “Right now!” she said, practically skipping to the door. As she reached for the handle, she added casually, “Oh, and he has a son.”

Before I could even react, the door swung open, and a deep voice filled the room.

“Hi, baby!” it said, followed by the sound of a kiss that echoed louder than it should have.

I stood, my arms crossed, trying to make sense of the chaos in my mind. From the hallway, I could see my mom melt into the embrace of a tall man with dark hair and broad shoulders. He kissed her face affectionately, and she giggled like a teenager. A reluctant smile tugged at my lips, but it vanished the moment his eyes turned toward me.

He stepped forward, extending a hand. His smile was warm, disarming.

“You must be Joella,” he said, his voice rich and calm, carrying a kindness that caught me off guard.

I hesitated, my pulse racing, before reluctantly taking his hand. He surprised me by pulling me into a hug. My body stiffened, my arms stuck awkwardly at my sides. Over his shoulder, I caught Mom beaming like she’d just won the lottery.

When he finally let go, he kept his hands gently on my shoulders. His touch was steady, almost comforting.

“Your mom has told me so much about you,” he said sincerely. “I’m so happy we finally get to meet.”

I nodded again, unsure how else to respond. He was...handsome. Too handsome, almost, with thick, dark hair combed neatly to one side and striking green eyes that sparkled with sincerity. He carried himself with a confidence I grudgingly respected. Yet, something about him felt familiar, like a tune I couldn’t quite place.

Before I could speak, heavy footsteps approached. The man’s smile faltered as he glanced toward the doorway, stepping aside to reveal someone else.

My breath caught. Those eyes. Those same, piercing green eyes stared back at me, but this time, they weren’t warm or welcoming. They were distant. Familiar. Too familiar.

“Joella, this is my son—”

“Haden,” the younger man interrupted, his voice clipped. “She knows, Dad.”

My stomach plummeted.

Mom’s eyes flickered between us, her smile faltering. “You two know each other?”

Haden smirked, his expression unreadable as he looked at her. “Yeah,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with something sharp. “She’s been a grade below me my entire life.”

I stared, speechless, as memories of high school came flooding back. Haden. The Haden. The same guy who’d turned my teenage years into a waking nightmare. The same guy who never spoke to me unless it was to make a snide comment or humiliate me in front of everyone.

This was his dad?

Mom tried to smooth over the tension. “Well, I guess this isn’t as awkward as we thought it’d be!” she said with a nervous laugh.

Awkward didn’t begin to cover it.

“Yeah,” Haden’s dad chuckled, trying to sound upbeat. “Guess we can all relax now.”

But I couldn’t relax. Not with Haden standing there, arms crossed, his cool smile masking something darker.

Then Haden’s dad turned to Mom, his voice dropping, as though his next words were meant only for her. “Have you told her yet?”

Mom froze.

A chill ran through me as I caught the shift in her expression—hesitation, then guilt.

“Tell me what?” I asked, my voice low and uneven.

Haden’s dad sighed, clasping his hands together like he was bracing himself. “Why don’t we go out for lunch? There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

I couldn’t tell what terrified me more—being stuck in the same room as Haden, or the dreadful sense that whatever they were keeping from me was about to blow my world apart.