ALAYNA“Mom? I’m home,” I call as we enter the house, and my mother instantly gets up from the couch in utter surprise to see Brandon.
I know she’s livid at the sight of him, but she’s got the wrong impression. I fed that to her. I loathed him in front of her because I assumed that he wouldn’t be back. That was stupid of me; I just thought it could be one of the ways to move on and forget.
“Mr. Lucien.” Her brows crease in surprise, but her voice is guarded.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hart. I’m sorry for barging in, in the dead of night,” Brandon says, but my mother doesn’t move.
“Mom?” I wave a hand in front of her face, and she snaps back to reality, then shoots me a glare.
“What is going on? Why are you bringing this married man into our house, Alayna?” she asks angrily. Of course, she’d assume that too.
“Mom, it’s not what you think, and this man is right here listening to you. Besides, he’s not married.” I sigh and glance at Brandon, who looks slightly uncomfortable.
“All I know is that he left you for someone else. Am I wrong, young man?” Mom demands.
“Mrs. Hart, I can explain, but no, I’m not married.”
“It’s me who broke up with him,” I tell her.
“But you said—” Mom scowls hard. “Have you been hiding things from me again, Alayna?”
“Yes, no! No.” God. I close my eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom. I only thought that he was. I was wrong too.”
“Honey, what is going on with you, really?” She folds her arms across her chest. She looks back and forth from Brandon to me in confusion. “But it doesn’t mean you didn’t leave her,” she says. Whenever she uses her strict tone, she always means the opposite. She only wants to show everyone she’s still a mother.
“But he came back, Mom, and he’s going to stay here tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll let him sleep on the couch.” I finally smile.
Her face falls. “I’m not sure if you’re still the daughter I know. But well, let’s not pretend you two never shared a room. Anyway, Mr. Lucien—”
“Just Brandon, Mrs. Hart,” he says.
“Brandon,” she repeats. “You’re still welcome here in our home, but—”
I interrupt her with my giggles, and she glares at me.
“...After all, Oliver helped my daughter a lot, and he still praises you in front of me despite everything,” she continues, and her eyes narrow. “But it’s late, and I don’t want Laynie going out at this hour. I’m watching you, mister. You don’t get another chance to hurt my eldest, or I’ll be the one to kick you out.” She tries to sound threatening, but my mother has always been a softie. I laugh secretly at Brandon, who seems to be a little intimidated by my mother.
“I promise this will never happen again, Mrs. Hart,” he says politely, “and I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Mom nods at us. “Very well, I’m going to bed now, and I’ll leave this up to you.”
“I’ll take care of it, Mom.”
She snorts, marches to her room and slams the door. Brandon and I share a breath of relief.
“What have you been telling your mother about me?” Brandon asks as soon as she is out of sight.
I invite him to the living room. “Almost everything,” I say honestly.
“Do you realize how mad your mother is at me right now?”
I chortle, patting his arm. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll explain everything to her again and admit that I’m partly at fault too because I presumed wrong, but well...” I touch his knee. “You’re here. You’re really here. My mother saw you, so it means I’m not schizophrenic. I’m not imagining things.”
Brandon laughs. “Did you seriously think I was a figment of your imagination?”
“Not anymore. I’m convinced. So, what of us now?”
“What do you mean?”
“What will happen to us?”
“Is that your actual question?”
“I need to hear it from you.”
“I just told you I’m not leaving anymore.”
“It’s too early to say that.”
“Okay, how about I say we’re going to fix things now, Alayna?” He pulls me close to him on the sofa. “We’ve wasted a lot of time. Let’s do things properly this time.”
Promises.“You haven’t enlightened me about what happened yet,” I say, actually suggesting because it can be a good start. I want to know more about the mission, how he escaped the marriage with Pauline, whether they caught all the bad guys, and so on.
“All right, but would you mind giving me something to eat because I’m starving. And if you let me use the bathroom first? Is that normal enough?” he says as though he can read my mind. He’s always one step ahead after all.
I have to admit that he’s still as sweet as ever, or maybe sweeter. “Of course you can. Do you have anything to change into?”
“I had no time for shopping and came straight here.” He grins again, and I’m starting to get used to it—this version of him that seems relaxed and confident. “Don’t worry. One night won’t hurt.”
“I don’t think so.” I look over at his body, now hidden inside a bespoke designer suit which he won’t be comfortable wearing for the rest of the night. “I’ll see if I can find something, and I’m just going to get you a clean towel. But let me take your jacket first.”
“Sure.” Brandon slips out of his jacket, staying in a crisp white shirt, and I’ve noticed he got broader too. He was already lean with the right amount of muscle, but he’s pretty damn cut now. I run my tongue over my bottom lip at the sight of biceps that bulge against his sleeves. Even the V on his waist is visible under the shirt. I instantly ache to touch him there, but I shake off the thought.
I dig into Elman’s closet to see if he has bigger shirts. My brother always wears loose shirts, and since he’s the eldest, I might find something. I draw out a plain black t-shirt that I think is the largest. Unfortunately, Brandon will have to keep his slacks.
I realize that I love what I’m doing—preparing something for a boyfriend who wants to sleep over. It feels so normal to me. It feels so right. Not running from criminals, kidnapping, fighting for our lives, families against families... I don’t want to go through something like that again; I need Brandon to prove that we won’t.
I come back to the living room and hand the shirt and towel to Brandon. I tell him that there’s a new toothbrush in the bathroom drawer and some soap.
Yes, this is very normal.When he returns from the bathroom, I see that the t-shirt I gave him fits him snugly. I’ve already set up the table so he can have a proper meal. I know how picky he is with food, so I prepared some Greek dishes since I have enough spices. I’m so used to cooking Greek dishes now, they became my specialty. I fell in love with their cuisine too.
He sits next to me at the dining table and eats heartily. We then start a light conversation about Athens, and I laugh at his story of the weird thing going on between Cassius and Arianna. Brandon isn’t aware that I’m laughing because I’m utterly sure it’s my brave sister who made the first move. As expected, he doesn’t know anything about Casey and Jason yet, because he didn’t mention anything about it.
Then he continues the actual story of how his revenge started. He mentions another cousin I haven’t heard of before.
“So you mean that this Charlie is Silvanus’s younger brother, and he’s actually the one who helped you with the case?”
“Yes.” He swallows his food. “At first, I thought he was working with his family, but he’s not. Charlie is against his father and brother.”
I nod, savoring my salmon. “That’s kind of interesting because I’m beginning to think that your uncle’s family is full of retards.”
He chortles at my term. “Well, that’s what I thought too. I was vigilant at first.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin after emptying his plate and glances at mine too. “Are you finished?”
I fork the remaining food on my plate and put it all in my mouth. I then grab the glass of water and drain it. “I’m done.”
The corners of his lips quirk up in amusement. “Good. We will need to sit on this if you wish to hear the whole thing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I remember that serious talks are basically interrogations with Brandon. “Let’s do that. I’ll clear up dinner first, and you can wait for me in the living room.”
I watch him stroll around, surveying the whole place. He goes to the family photos displayed by the window. He picks up a photo I know by heart—my young self with my dad and stares at it. I see him smile, and he looks so handsome that he almost makes me melt. He puts the frame down and moves on to the next frame, with Mom on it.
After tidying up the dining room, I join Brandon. He is now holding a picture of Chris and me at my seventeenth birthday party. I’m wearing a shimmering black blouse, a smile spread across my face, and Chris has his arm over my shoulder. He’s looking intently at my face. It was when—
No, nope. Not the time to think about that. However, I do remember that I haven’t spoken to Chris yet. He’s always traveling around the world; even his siblings can barely find him.
“That’s Chris. Jason’s—”
“Jason’s older brother, yes.” He places the frame back on the desk.
“Yep.”
“You’re close to him.”
“I’m close to all of them.”
“Much closerI wonder if Jason told him a little about Chris. Or the question is, how much information did he share with Brandon? I’d better call him soon because my foster brother has to know he needs to ask me first before saying anything else about me.
“We kind of have history,” I reveal honestly. At least this kind of information is safe to share, and I don’t want him to find out about it from Jason or Arianna but from me.
“Uh-huh.” He raises his eyebrow at me, crossing his arms. “Interesting. Given that he’s supposed to be your foster brother?”
“It’s not like that,” I chide. “Mom and his siblings knew. And please, let’s not talk about that. Let’s start with your story.”
His eyes narrow. “I’m even more interested now.”
I want to tell him, but telling him now means I should open up about the devil. “Oh, come on.”
“Fine. But I think my story is very boring.” He cups my face, and his nose touches my forehead. “Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“I’m very sure.” I look up at him, smiling. I’m just so happy this is really happening and that I get to finally talk to him about the murkier chapter of his life.
“Okay.” He kisses my mouth, scorching my skin as he does. “Let’s start where I left off....”