"𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙚, 𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙙?" he asked me sweetly, and I could not remain silent with his lips near my ear.
"On yours..." I answered under a whisper, still looking at the floor.
With the gentle brush of his finger...
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༻𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐚༺
I pull into my mother's driveway. Nervous is an understatement of what I am. After all I've been told about my past- from my father killing my birth mother, to me being used as a weapon, to every lie I've been fed by the woman who lives here, it leaves me with no ounce of certainty.
Who am I?
I begin to hear things going on inside the house while I'm still seated in my car. Does this thing actually have a spy radio station?!
"Cheated is a child's term for this. You betrayed our love, Trisha."
My heart is crushing already.
My step dad is back. No doubt. The only man I believed was right for the both of us is being wronged by the woman who also wronged me. I wish I could say sorry to him on her behalf, but it's not my place. A simple apology could never be enough for something like this.
"I didn't betray anything! You were gone for three months, probably sleeping with all kinds of women and who knows what! You don't-"
"I would never!" he roars over her. It silences her instantly and almost makes me jump.
"I would never," he says more softly. "Even though it hurts, I love you, and I would never dream of having another woman on or around me that isn't you."
My fists curl up on my lap and I fight back tears. She's really letting someone like him go to waste?
"Yanis..." my mother's voice shakes.
"I was trapped overseas because of a disease, and you know that, otherwise I'd be back here in a month after that construction project was through."
I hear something soft hit a hard service. "Eight hundred thousand dollars, Trisha. We can retire. It's all you've ever wanted. We can even pay the way for Liara to go to college if you desire that."
"Do you even know what you desire..?" he asks when she never speaks up.
There's a long silence, and then Yanis states he needs a minute before leaving for the front porch of the house to get a breather. He doesn't notice me here. He just keeps his head down when he sits on the swing, and pulls one of my mother's cigarettes out of his back pocket.
I'm assuming he stole it, because he never smokes. And he sure as hell won't be starting now. I need to put a stop to this.
I leave the car, the door closing quietly and automatically behind me, and jog up to the porch to yank the stick out of his mouth before he can set fire to it.
His brown eyes jolt up at me, and he fixes his thin rectangular glasses, blowing one of the dreads that had fallen out of his ponytail away from his face. His brown skin is darker than before and his arms shape his collared shirt well, a bit more rugged than I remember. No secret, he's been working hard.
