Bully stepbrother

84. Risotto

CADEN

Dad let out a frustrated laugh and sank into the sofa behind him, allowing the three of us to process his admission.

"It doesn't matter anyway!" He smiled at both Mad and me. "What matters is that I let them implicate me, and I turned out to be somehow like them. Not knowing how to give my own child the love they owe me. I thought it was because of my hatred for men like my fathers, but honestly, it's a curse. Maybe I am cursed," he whispered.

I stood still, holding onto the scream in my chest.

"Caden, I never hated you; you just reminded me of memories I was trying to withdraw from. You look everything like me growing up. So I pushed you away."

"I-I..." Mad began but stopped. She must also be in shock.

Martha lowered herself next to him on the sofa; he glanced at her and dropped his eyes to the floor.

"Look, I was a coward. It sucks not being able to fight your demons. But I've lost enough... I will not lose my son over what happened in my past. I wouldn't lose any one of you for that. I hated myself for not thinking of this earlier before the damage is done."

"Not everything is damaged, Jude," Martha murmured to him.

"You went to therapy?" I found myself asking him.

"Yes," he promptly looked up at me. "But I exited. It felt like nothing could help."

Maybe I understood him! Maybe I do know what it felt like to feel just as he did.

"I had joined therapy too... Earlier when we got here... But it didn't help." I shuttered as Mad's intense gaze burned my skin.

"What happened?" Dad softly asked me.

"It didn't help," I confessed quietly, avoiding the three sets of eyes fixed on me.

"You truly love her?" He jerked his head slightly at the girl beside me, with a stained red, puffy face. "Do you really love her?" He asked again.

I stayed silent for a while, debating whether his question was even relevant. Weren't we talking about therapy?

"Why?" I asked, confused.

"You two got married." It sounded more like a question than a statement.

What's that about?

"She felt like mom and Cara." I retorted instinctively.

Dad and Martha's eyes averted observingly in my direction, somehow fearful, like I was some psychotic person on the loose and I really needed help.

"Wait, what?" I heard one of them say.

"What?" I mumbled, my heart thumping in my chest while knots began forming in my stomach.

Is this when they tell me I can't have her because she's my stepsister?

For no one is taking her away from me! No one. There's a reason that pistol didn't kill me.

I don't mind dying, but being separated from her was what frightened me, and got my heart working again. Mad and I are meant to be.

"You married her because she felt like your mother and Cara?" Dad questioned, his brows knitted in confusion.

"What's wrong with that?" My gaze sliced straight at him, while my jaw ticked with annoyance.

"A lot..." He scoffed, blinking at me like I was insane. Beside him, Martha watched me with pity in her watery eyes.

I don't get it.