The Brother (Whip 5) ✔️

Chapter 6

STEFAN

I turn off the car, sighing as my eyes fall on the house standing a few feet away. It's a normal house, no different than any other in the neighborhood, a bit worse for wear, but still holding on thanks to my father's constant care.

I still remember the day we moved in, so long ago. I don't think that I've ever seen my father so happy as he had been that day, the smile on his face big and beautiful.

"Everything is possible, Stefan, if you are willing to work for it. Sure, you can get rich, there are always easy ways for someone to get money, but a true success, something to be proud of and still able to look into the eyes of your kids is another story. Remember that."

I remember his words spoken quietly as the two of us stood in front of this house, the words I kept close to my heart ever since that day and tried to live by.

Our relationship has never been perfect, especially since I hit puberty and realized a few things about who and what I am, but still, I never forgot those words.

I take a big breath, letting it out slowly as I force myself to get out of the car. I walk toward the house before letting myself in, the smell of delicious food my mother has been preparing the whole day drifting to my nose and making my mouth water.

I smile softly, despite the nerves still present deep in my stomach; there is nothing better on this world than my mother's cooking.

I take my coat off, hanging it next to the door before starting my way toward the living room, the sound of numerous voices and laughter echoing through the house.

"Hey, Mister big shot!" my sister Tania exclaims as soon as her eyes fall on me, making me laugh softly as she jumps into my arms, her arms wrapping around my neck and squeezing the living daylights out of me.

"Hey squirt." I whisper, hugging her just as tightly.

"You are late." my father says as soon as we separate, making me want to roll my eyes.

"Hello to you too, dad." I say instead, as the man crosses the room and offers me his hand to shake which I take.

"Oh honey, welcome home!" my mother exclaims as she walks in, a big smile on her face when she hugs me.

I tense for a moment, feeling surprised at the sudden show of affection, before wrapping my arms gently around her back.

I can't remember the last time my mother has hugged me, or showed me any kind of affection though I believe that it had been somewhere around the time when I came out.

You see, my parents really didn't like it when I informed them about my sexuality. My father raged and then brooded for months, not saying a word to me but he eventually came around, though nothing ever felt the same as before. I always felt a wall between us, one I never managed to completely knock down, no matter how much I tried, until I eventually stopped trying.

But my mother, well, she's another story. She had stayed silent through everything; through my father's rage and consequent brooding, until she told me one day that it was okay, that she knew how strange young people were nowadays and that she would be there for me once I got over it.

I think that that is what hurt me the most, more than anything my father had told me in his rage, even more than his silence. It was the denial that really got to me, her refusal to accept me for who I am. She strongly believed that my sexuality was just a confusion, a curiosity that I would one day satisfy and then find a respectable woman, a perfect daughter-in-love who would give me a bunch of kids.