Stepbrother (Sequel to Stockholm Syndrome)

22

    After a week full of Luke running around like a chicken with its head cut off, desperately trying to clean the already near spotless house, he told me his mom would be arriving tomorrow.

I nodded and pretended to be happy – don't get me wrong I was ecstatic for Luke to see his mom – but later that night, I'm sure Luke was able to tell something was off.

I had changed into sweatpants and a warm crop top and was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when Luke joined me. He glanced at me before pulling out his hand razor and shaving off the stubble that had formed on his jaw. He wore a concentrated face but still decided to speak to me.

        "So what part about tomorrow is worrying you?" Luke asked, cutting to the chase. I shrugged.

    "Before I say anything I just want you to know that I couldn't be happier about you getting to see your mother." I told him, making sure that was clear.

        "It's ok, Madeline, I don't doubt you're happy for me." Luke paused and gave me a short closed mouth smile before swiping at the last straggling hairs and rinsing his razor. "I just want you to be comfortable with confiding in me so that I can try to help you through this. I know it's stressful." Luke and I watched each other through the mirror.

        "I think it's just... I'm blaming myself for my dad's actions and I feel like your mom might hate me because I'm his daughter." I murmured. Luke was thoughtful for a moment.

    "I'm not going to tell you that's hogwash because I know it doesn't seem like it in your head." Luke thought for a moment. "I know I can't convince you that you're scared over nothing, but I will tell you that you aren't your father. You were just as much a victim to his abuse as anyone else. Don't underestimate that." He warned.

I nodded and Luke subtly opened his arm and I accepted as an invitation for a quick side hug before he brushed his teeth. I put my hair into a messy bun to sleep in and then left Luke in the bathroom as he spit into the sink and rinsed off his tooth brush. Luke followed me out after that and took off his shirt, already in sweatpants. It was too cold now for Luke to sleep only in his boxers and he threw on a pajama shirt as well.

        "I can tell there's something else bothering you." Luke warned me. I sat on the bed and Luke crawled over onto the other side.

    We had established the guest bedroom as mine months ago and Luke had his old bedroom back. But most nights we ended up sharing a room when one of us had a nightmare or we watched Netflix on his laptop and fell asleep on accident.

Tonight, we probably intended to split into our own bedrooms but the chat we had left us both kind of battered.

        "It's just... Luke I haven't interacted with anyone other than you, the Starbucks employees, and the lawyers, for months." I told him. "I'm just a little paranoid about the social aspect of your mom being here, especially considering she's staying in the same house. You and I have kind of fallen into a rhythm. We know each other's likes and dislikes. We don't have to explain anorexia or nightmares or self harm or anything to each other because we already know. Don't you think your mom will start to wonder about me not eating? About our sleeping arrangements even though it's nothing romantic?" I asked. Luke nodded.

    "I agree about the rhythm we've fallen into. I think that's something Mum will definitely break. But she won't be here forever. Just a couple weeks. Not to freak you out but she knows about your anorexia already and a lot of your background." Luke told me. I nodded.

        "I'm not trying to be a buzzkill about your mom coming. But I'd rather all the concerns come out now instead of when your mom gets here."

    "I appreciate that." Luke grinned at me before laying on the bed next to me. "Let's just enjoy our last night alone for a while." I could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed a small kiss to my scalp.