Page 5 of Heartless Stepbrother
And then I saw her.
She was a burst of color against the monotony of travel, a sunset-orange sundress billowing around her legs, a white leinestled against her collarbone, her blonde hair in a loose braid that made her look younger than she had any right to. The airport, dull and beige and blinking, dimmed around her.
She smiled.
And just like that, something in me broke.
“Luna!”
Her voice cracked open something in my chest.
I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe.
I dropped my bag, just let it thud to the floor, and ran.
Her arms wrapped around me before I even reached her. Warm. Familiar. Safe. Like they’d been waiting, just like I had, for this exact moment to exist.
I buried my face in her shoulder and held on like the wind might try to tear me away again.
Vanilla. The scent of sunscreen and skin. Her scent.Home.
She held me tighter. Fingers stroking the back of my head. One hand gripping my shirt likesheneeded the anchoring just as badly.
“My beautiful girl,” she whispered, and her voice wasn’t smooth, it trembled, raw around the edges. “God, you’re really here.”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. The lump in my throat had become a stone, heavy and unmoving. My eyes burned, but I refused to cry. Not now. Not when I’d already shed everything else.
She pulled back a little, her hands cupping my face, eyes scanning me like she needed to memorize every inch of what she’d missed. Her thumbs brushed beneath my eyes, gently, as if she could erase the shadows life had drawn there.
“You look tired,” she said softly.
I nodded, managing a small, wobbly smile. “Long everything.”
Her smile broke wider, even as tears shimmered at the corners of her lashes. “But you’re here. That’s all that matters. Luna, it’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you terribly.”
“I missed you too,” I whispered, voice barely audible over the buzz of reunions and announcements echoing around us.
She pressed a kiss to my forehead like it could protect me from whatever was coming next.
“Let’s get your suitcase,” she said, slipping her arm around my shoulders, guiding me like I was still small enough to be tucked under her wing. “Then we’ll drive to the resort. I’ve got so much to tell you, and I want to heareverything. All of it.”
I nodded again, letting her lead, my past packed tight and zipped shut.
What I didn’t tell her, what I couldn’t say just yet, was that I didn’t know if I’d ever truly feel ready.
To be here.
To meet them.
To step into this new life where I was no longer just her and my father’s daughter, but someone elses. Someone’s stepsister. Someone’s disruption.
But I didn’t say anything.
Not yet.
For now, I let her hold me. Let the scent of flowers and humidity sink into my skin. Let myself pretend, for a few more minutes, that paradise wasn’t a lie.
As we walked through the terminal, arms linked like we hadn’t spent half a year apart, something inside me loosened. It wasn’t gone, not the ache, not the fear, but it shifted. Quieted.
