SNAKE (a Stepbrother Romance) (13 page)

M
y Dad marched
straight into the house, passing me as if I were a ragdoll. I objected loudly but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and Suzanne and I could only follow him as he ventured upstairs.

He walked straight to the source of the wailing sound and stopped in complete shock when he reached the nursery. His hand clutched the doorframe, and for the first time, I noticed my dad had gotten older.

His hands were wrinkled and full of age spots, his motions a little less sure than they used to be. But none of that mattered, because I saw the biggest smile light up his face as he saw what was in the room.

The moment he realised he was a grandfather.

We all walked inside the room in a tiny procession, and I walked protectively in front, right to the makeshift crib I had for now. I really needed to get a new one for my little Prince.

I reached inside and took the baby in my arms, wrapping him in a soft baby blue blanket. I cooed and soothed him, and soon, his wails stopped.

“Dad,” I started, my tone serious, but my mouth set in a smile. “I’d like you to meet George. Your grandson.”

I walked over to him, showing him the tiny baby in my arms. My dad’s eyes started watering as he looked down at George’s scrunched up, reddening face.

“Hello, George,” he said softly, his voice breaking over the two simple words. I could see Suzanne over his shoulder, covering her mouth with her hand as she looked on. It was a special moment.

I offered my dad to hold the baby, and he seemed as excited as a little boy as he took George in his arms. He cradled his head in the perfect way, holding him close and looking at him fondly. I could already see the bond forming between them, and I was grateful my dad had heard my son cry.

This was going to happen sooner or later, and I had been wrong to keep them apart. They were family, and my dad deserved to meet his grandson.

“How old is he?” Dad asked with a shaky voice.

“Three months and two days,” I replied with a small smile. It grew wider as I watched him coo at the baby, cradling him close to his body.

Suzanne walked over to me, holding my shoulders as we looked at two generations connecting in front of our eyes.

My father spent an hour in the nursery, unable to tear his eyes off George until it was time for him to nap again. We tucked him in together and finally retreated downstairs. Suzanne politely excused herself, and finally, it was just my dad and I.

I put on the teapot and prepared a hot drink for us, bringing the steaming cups to the kitchen table. My house was quaint but cosy and I loved it there. It was definitely an upgrade from the apartments I’d stayed in during the past few years.

We sipped our tea in silence and a blissful smile was playing on my father’s face. It made me ridiculously happy, but I knew I would soon be bombarded with questions.

The moment came sooner than I thought it would and my Dad furrowed his brows as he gave me a stern look.

“Mila... why didn’t you tell us?” he wondered out loud.

Ashamed, I looked at the table, fidgeting with my coaster. “I was embarrassed. I’m not married, I don’t even have a boyfriend. I didn’t want to burden you with my problems, Dad.”

“This isn’t a problem, though, honey,” he interrupted me gently. “It’s a baby - a blessing.”

I gave him a grateful smile, my eyes already filling with tears. But I knew this wasn’t the toughest question he’d ask me today.

“Who is the father?”

There it was, out in the open. My hands trembled as I set my cup down and put them in my lap, shaking like a leaf.

I could have lied. I was going to. I had a made-up story for this question which I’d used plenty of times and rehearsed to perfection. But something came over me and for the first time, I decided I would tell someone the truth.

“He’s Devan’s son,” I admitted, my voice breaking over the confession.

I heard a gasp at the door, and my eyes flew to the sound, finding Suzanne there. She hadn’t known - I hadn’t told a soul, not even my cousin who was also my closest friend, my saviour.

Finally, my eyes landed on my father who was giving me a hard look. He reached out for me and I pulled my hand from my lap, enjoying the comforting touch of my father’s palm over mine.

“Does he know?” he asked quietly as Suzanne joined us at the kitchen table, wrapping me in a big hug. I could feel her tears falling down on my hair.

I held them both, my dad with my hand and Suzanne with my free arm, as I shook my head. “No, he doesn’t know. And neither of you can tell him.”

“He has a right to know,” my dad told me gently, but I shook my head immediately.

“He... He can’t disrupt my life again, not now. Finally, everything is working out and I can’t risk it. Please... just don’t tell him.”

An uncomfortable silence lay between us as I looked at my father and cousin. They both nodded, though they seemed displeased, and I was as relieved as I was disappointed.

Deep inside, I wished Dev would know. I wondered whether he’d come and see us... Make everything right.

Even with Suzanne’s help, being a single mother was no walk in the park. Besides, I still longed for his touch, his feverish kisses, the bulge in his jeans as he touched me.

But no one could ever know. I had made my choice.

A
fter a lot
of talking and even more convincing, I had my first little victory since my wife left me. I managed to convince my mother and stepfather to give me Mila’s new address.

I didn’t hesitate for a moment; what did I have to lose? I booked a flight immediately and headed to Mila’s new house. I was standing a few feet away from a house behind a tree, checking the piece of paper in my hand to make sure the address I had was right.

I was a little surprised - I had always thought Mila was barely getting by, but the house in front of me was lovely. Albeit small, it seemed cosy and a great place to live in a calm neighbourhood.

Plucking up the courage to walk to the door, my hands shook as I crumpled the piece of paper and stuffed it back into my pocket. I was prolonging the inevitable, afraid that she might not want to see me, that she’d slam the door right in my face. But I wouldn’t know if I didn’t try, so I bit the bullet and approached the house.

Just as I took a deep breath to ready myself, the front door of the quaint house opened. I stood glued to the spot, partially hidden by the trunk of the tree and the car parked in front of me. My eyes bulged as I looked at the entrance.

I was about to see Mila for the first time in a year. I was excited, yet nervous at the thought as I stared at the now ajar front door of the house, waiting for my first glimpse of the woman that captured my heart.

But what came out of the house wasn’t Mila, not yet at least. It wasn’t even a person. A large object was pushed through the door, and I watched in shock as I realised it was a stroller.

It probably contained a baby… Mila’s baby?

And then I saw her. My eyes widened and my breath captured within my chest as Mila - beautiful, curvy Mila – stepped outside, her hand in a tight hold upon the stroller’s handle. Watching her bend over the carriage, her face transformed with happiness, and I came to terms with the obvious truth in front of my eyes.

My stepsister had a baby. She’d moved on, had a new life, a new boyfriend. I couldn’t move for a long moment, looking at the image in front of me.

The stroller was a light shade of blue, so I figured the baby was a boy. Mila leaned down again to coo at him. The edge of her dress rippled as a breeze caught hold of it, the very dress that enticed me to kiss her a year ago, and I saw a glimpse of her milky upper thigh and remembered how smooth it had been under my hands. It made my heart ache with pain to look at that familiar fabric. I wished I could have held it between my fingertips once again.

But then I seized upon a new thought flittering across my brain. And my chest swelled with hope. I could still make this work.

She could still be mine.

Mila was alone - a single mother perhaps? I could help her, I thought. I could be that baby’s father figure. We could be a family, if only she’d have me.

The smell of peonies wafted up to my nose, interrupting my thoughts, and my fingers tightened around the bouquet in my hands as I clung onto the idea. The image of her and the baby in my arms gave me the last courage I needed.

A small smile played on my face.

Just as I was about to stroll forward, let Mila see me, my face fell. The smile that had been there moments ago washed away as I saw a well-dressed man in a suit exit through the front door of Mila’s house.

My heart shattered into a million pieces.

With my tight fist strangling the stems of the flowers, I stared motionlessly at the scene unfolding in front of me.

The man closed the front door, smiling, and muttered something to Mila and they both laughed. He looked like he made her happy…

He helped her get the stroller down the stairs that led up to the house and placed it on the stone path leading to the street.

She had moved on. And I wanted to pummel the guy into oblivion.

She’d moved away first, then started a family. Judging by the fact that it had been only a year since I last saw her and she now had a baby, she moved on pretty fast, too.

I probably was a distant memory.

My heart radiated with pain and my eyes wandered down to the ground. I just stared at the asphalt beneath my feet, realising my plan of coming here to surprise her was all for nothing.

I was too late.

She was another man’s woman now. Taken, and with a baby to boot.

Why had I waited so long?

Another look at Mila and the guy had me reeling away. They were laughing, his hand protectively resting on the small of her back as she pushed the pram.

They were going down the street, heading somewhere to do whatever it was families do on sunny afternoons like this. Bonding with their baby, spending quality time together.

I considered my options. But realistically I had none.

There was a persistent voice inside my head, and it kept telling me to go to her, to make her mine, regardless of the man that was by her side. The voice begged for closure, wanted me to talk to her one last time and make sure there was absolutely no way she’d take me back. And I knew the voice wouldn’t shut up until I’d made sure she wouldn’t have me.

But there was also the voice of reason chiming in, louder than usual. I knew I couldn’t prove to be a snake again. I had gotten the tattoo long ago, as per my nickname, at a time when I was too cavalier with the emotions of the women I used to fuck about with. I’d been called a snake one too many times for my liking. Mostly by the women I loved, too - Monique, and then beautiful Mila.

Perhaps this was my punishment?

I couldn’t be a snake again. I couldn’t barge into her life out of the blue and destroy the happiness and life she’d spent a year building.

I couldn’t make her cheat for me again… Even though this time the roles would be reversed.

No wonder they didn’t tell me, I thought bitterly, thinking of my mother and stepfather, who’d perhaps only been trying to protect me.

I looked at the flowers in my hand, pearly pink and so full of life, and walked over to a nearby trashcan. I let go of the bouquet and let it fall into the garbage.

It was a significant moment for me, a sign of finally letting go.

One last fleeting look at Mila as she pushed the stroller down the street. That’s all I would allow myself.

I stared at her retreating figure, her curves beautiful in that dress. For a moment, she stopped, like she sensed me looking at her.

But I knew I’d overstayed my welcome. Head bent, I walked away from her perfect little life and back to my miserable lonely one.

I’d messed up, and there was nothing I could have done. It was time to finally move on and let Mila live the life she had.

The life she deserved.

A
prickle
on my bare neck made me stop in my tracks, a gut feeling telling me that there had been a change in the air.

Did I forget to lock the front door?

No, it wasn’t that. It was something more significant.

Slowly, I turned around, my hands sweaty on the stroller. George was fidgeting in his blanket, his legs dancing and arms waving, but I was too distracted to watch his little body frolic.

I felt a tingling all over my body, and shuddered, as if a thousand feathers were tickling my bare flesh. As I turned around, I saw a retreating figure walking away on the opposite side of the street. A large man, cast in shadows from the boughs and leaves of the trees that lined the way.

He turned to the side for one moment, and I gasped, everything around me forgotten for a long second.

His face looked familiar, but from the distance it was hard to tell. Was it Devan? I could’ve sworn it was my stepbrother but then I blinked, and when I opened my eyes, the man was gone. I tried to catch my breath as I stared at the corner of the street, wondering if what I’d seen was real.

It couldn’t be.

I had to be rational.

I had made damn sure Dev wouldn’t find me, and he probably didn’t want anything to do with me, anyhow. Of course, that didn’t stop me from wanting him to find me… God, my emotions were all messed up.

It was just a mirage, I tried to tell myself.

George started crying softly and I turned around immediately, my mind back to the most important little person in my life now - my son. He was all that mattered.

I cooed as I put his pacifier back into his mouth and he stilled when I wrapped him back up his favourite blanket, snug as scrumptious bug.

“Are you okay?” Carl asked. “You’ve gone pale.”

Startled, I took my eyes off baby George and looked up. I had almost completely forgotten about Carl who stood right next to me.

“I’m fine,” I said waving his concerns away.

“If you’re sure.”

I nodded and gave a weak smile.

“Well, I best be off then. It was lovely seeing you, Mila.”

Carl was a friend from work who’d stopped by on my day off to deliver some contracts. Perfectly polite and handsome, but boring in every other way. He never made it a secret that he had a thing for me, not since my first day in the office. But I always stayed away, ignored his flirtatious remarks and subtle invitations out. I was civil, and he was persistent. I knew I would never accept, though.

“Yes, thank you Carl,” I said politely. “I’ll see you Monday at the office?”

He hesitated, but finally nodded, a little disappointed. He leaned in to kiss me, and I quickly turned my cheek to the side so it would be chaste. He looked dissatisfied as we said our goodbyes.

I continued on my walk to the nearby park, my heart feeling a little heavy as I sat down on a rickety bench and propped up the stroller’s hood so George could get a little sun.

Cooing and talking to my son, I tried to relax. The day was beautiful and sunny, and my life was great. Perfect, what I always wanted, I tried to convince myself. I had a well-paying job, an amazing son, a fantastic place to live, and yet there was something missing.

But I gritted my teeth, not allowing myself to think of it. Instead I thought of my dad, who’d visited me a few weeks ago and the secret that had been revealed.

And not the only one, either.

I broke down that day, telling him the baby was my stepbrother’s. But I swore my dad to secrecy and I hoped he had stayed a man of his word.

Though I secretly knew he was right - Devan had a right to know he had a son. I should have told him. Yet it was just too hard, and even thinking about that conversation made me break out in hives.

He probably told Andrea, I considered… my stepmother. Andrea and Dad were close, shared everything, and I couldn’t picture him holding such a big secret from her. I had to know for sure, do some damage control if he had, and reached for my cell without really thinking it through. Andrea and I didn’t speak much, but she’d always been nice to me.

I called her on my cell phone and she answered in a few rings.

“Why hello, Mila! This is… unexpected.” Her voice had an edge, she sounded surprised and a little distant. I furrowed my brows as I said my hello.

“Just wanted to say hi and see how you and Dad were doing,” I said, wincing at the silly excuse. I should’ve thought this through before calling, I thought.

We spoke for a little while and it seemed like we were just stalling, dancing around what was really going on. I felt like Andrea knew exactly why I was calling, and it was getting more and more awkward.

“So… I heard about Devan and Monique’s divorce,” I finally said, my voice breaking a little over the words as my tongue tripped over Devan’s name.

“Yes, finally finalised,” Andrea said curtly and an uncomfortable silence lay between us. I toyed with George’s blanket as he fidgeted in the pram.

“And where is Devan these days?” I blurted, blushing as I asked the question.

“Oh, Devan is out of town. In your city this week, in fact,” Andrea said nonchalantly, and my heart sped up. “Didn’t your father tell you?”

“No, he didn’t say a word,” I said through gritted teeth, making a mental note to yell at my dad later. “So is he here on business?”

“I really wouldn’t know dear,” Andrea said dismissively and I fought the urge to scream at her. I needed to know, but I didn’t want to be too obvious. “On another subject, Mila, I would like to see my grandchild sometime soon.”

My heart froze in my chest.

And I let my fear fill the silence.

She knew. I’d been right; my dad had told her. Another minus point for him.

Fuck. Did that mean Devan knew?

“Mila? Are you still there?”

I closed my eyes and took a cleansing breath. “Yes. Erm, we’ll arrange something soon. I promise,” I replied awkwardly. What the hell was I supposed to say? I wasn’t comfortable discussing the child she wasn’t supposed to know existed.

“You know, Mila,” she continued thoughtfully. “You really should talk to Devan.”

“And why exactly is that?” I asked roughly, unable to hide the edge in my voice.

Andrea ignored it and went on pretending as if everything was perfectly normal. “He tried to turn his life around, move on, but he’s hurting. He’s a ghost.”

With my heart thumping in my chest I bit my tongue, trying to hold back my anger, my hurt.

“Well, that’s not really my problem,” I replied in a high-pitched voice.

I could hear the sigh on the other end of the line. “He’s pining for you, Mila. It’s been a year, and he hasn’t seen anyone else. You really need to talk to him.”

“I can’t…” I replied, the tears threatening to overcome me. And before Andrea could say something back to try and convince me, I cut the line and stuffed the phone in my pocket.

I focused on my son and pulled the hood of the stroller back down to shade his face. But my mind was still stuck on the conversation I’d just had.

All of a sudden, the mirage from before flashed in my mind. Andrea mentioned he was in the same city… Could it really have been him, on my street, walking away from me?

My heart was beating wildly as my eyes widened, trying to remember the whole scene. I turned towards the direction of the house, only a little way away from the park.

My blood froze in my veins as I thought everything through.

Fuck, no.

Carl had been with us, George and me, as we came out of the house. He had only been running a business errand, but if Devan had come to see me, he wouldn’t have known that, would he?

If it really was him and he saw me with another man…
Oh, no.
I groaned and clutched my mouth.

Devan was probably convinced I’d moved on, when in fact that was so far from the truth. How could I have been so stupid?

I felt the first tears prickling my eyes as I realised we’d been stuck in a misunderstanding. With no idea what to do, I took my baby in my arms and held him close, wiping my tears with his blanket.

This time, I was the one who had messed up, and I had no idea how to fix it.