Page 24 of Heartless Stepbrother
“Now, Luna,” Sarah said, her green eyes locking on me from the makeup chair, where a stylist was layering gold shimmer over her lids. “Your mum tells us you’re moving to Palo Alto soon! That must be exciting. Are you looking forward to it?”
The question slid into me like a stone dropped into water, small, but enough to send ripples outwards. I glanced at Mum, who sat a few feet away, her head tilted back as a hairdresser smoothed pins into the sleek twist at her crown. She looked blissfully unaware. I didn’t want to puncture that.
“It’s… a big change,” I said, shaping the words as if they might bruise. “I’m excited to be closer to Mum. And it’s a beautiful area.” I left out the homesickness, the knot in my stomach every time I thought about leaving Dad and the friends who’d known me since I was five. “It’s my senior year, though, so… starting somewhere new right at the end is a little daunting.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, darling,” Morgan said, her voice warm from where she sat getting her nails painted a glossy coral.“Ravenstone High’s a fantastic school. Your mum says you’re brilliant. You’ll settle in in no time.”
Another woman leaned forward from across the room, her tone curious but kind. “And what have you been up to, Luna? Still learning about history your mum used to tell us about?”
A real smile tugged at my mouth this time. “Yes. Mostly the Song Dynasty lately, though I’m hoping to move on to Medieval Europe soon.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” Carol said, her eyes crinkling. “A true historian, just like your father.”
The conversation moved like tidewater, shifting and swirling. I answered questions about history and future plans, about why I wanted to study history and what I loved most about it. Their attention was warm but not heavy, and little by little, I loosened in my chair.
And then it came.
Sarah’s voice was light, but her question cut sharper than she knew. “And what about your new stepfamily, Luna? Are you excited to meet Marcus? And Riley? Your mum speaks so highly of them both.”
Marcus.
Riley.
The sound of their names slid through me like a warning.
For a heartbeat, the music, the laughter, the clink of glass, all of it seemed to recede. My mind wasn’t in the bridal suite anymore.
My pulse tripped, my mouth dry. I forced myself to look up, to smile.
They were due to arrive for the ceremony, swept into the chaos of vows and champagne and photographs. I pictured someone faceless, maybe tall, maybe quiet, the kind of boy who wouldn’t notice me if we passed in the same hallway.
I forced my lips into a smile, keeping my voice even.
“Yes, I am. Mum’s told me a lot about Marcus. He sounds wonderful. And Riley… I haven’t met him yet. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Oh, they’re both lovely,” Morgan assured me warmly from her spot at the nail table. “Marcus is a true gentleman, absolutely devoted to Eleanor. And Riley is… well, a typical teenage boy. Handsome. Smart. Most of the time a bit reserved, but with a good head on his shoulders. He’s the same age as you, I think? Maybe a few months older?”
The same age. That meant school together. Same classes, same lunch breaks, same crowded hallways where there’d be no avoiding each other. My stomach tightened, not from dread exactly, but from the knowledge that my final year would begin with the unshakable label of “the new girl” in more ways than one.
“His eighteenth birthday is in two weeks,” Mum’s voice floated across the suite. Her eyes were still closed as the stylist’s fingers wove pins into her hair, but there was a soft smile on her lips. “Also doing his senior year. You’ll be at the same school, Luna. Isn’t that lovely?”
Lovely. That word seemed far too simple for what it meant. A complete upheaval of my life, new streets, new people, new rules. But I nodded anyway. “That’s… good,” I murmured. “I’m sure he’ll be… helpful.”
The conversation drifted back to wedding talk. Final fittings, flowers, a forgotten lipstick someone was sent rushing to retrieve. I smiled where I was meant to, answered with polite nods and quiet yeses, but my thoughts wandered.
Outside the balcony doors, the resort gleamed in the midday light. Palm fronds stirred lazily, their shadows swaying across white stone. Far below, waves whispered against the beach in slow, rhythmic sighs. The whole place looked untouched, like apostcard. A stark contrast to the churning sense of change inside me.
I glanced at Mum. She was laughing now at something Sarah had said, her face radiant, her joy unshakable. Guilt pricked at me for letting my own nerves creep in. I wouldn’t ruin this for her. Not today. Not ever.
No matter how many messages I received.
When the final curl of hair was pinned and her makeup perfected, she rose from her chair.
“Alright, ladies,” she announced, voice bright with excitement. “Time for the final touches!”
A cheer rippled through the suite. Perfume thickened in the air, fabric rustled, and the atmosphere sharpened into a charged buzz. I stepped forward instinctively to help, my hands ready even while my mind kept circling the truth I couldn’t ignore.
By the end of today, my new family wouldn’t just be a name anymore.
