SNAKE (a Stepbrother Romance) (8 page)

T
he days started to pass
, just like they always do, each day getting a little less painful than the last. I was trying my best to avoid the house, steering clear of Monique and especially Devan. How had I managed to screw it all up before we had even started? I asked myself as the constricting feeling in my chest persisted.

The day for the embryo implantation was drawing nearer, and I was twisted with doubts and worries. Eventually, only days before D-Day, I realised I needed to talk to someone; keeping all the drama locked up inside, buried away, was eating me alive. I needed to be brave and share some of the burden before I went crazy and lost it.

I considered calling my cousin Suzanne but decided against it in the end. She’d been the one who’d had the surrogacy idea in the first place, and I didn’t want to disappoint her on top of everyone else. Even then, she was a perceptive one; she’d know that I was holding another burden back from her. I couldn’t risk her finding out about my feelings for Devan.

But as if my prayers had been answered, my cell phone rang in my hand, and I checked the caller ID – my father. I cleared my throat, banishing any trace of sadness.

We were reasonably close, but we didn’t speak too often. I considered ignoring the call, but something prompted me to answer the incessant ringing nonetheless; I’d always been able to talk to him about stuff going on in my life. So why not now?

“Hi, Dad,” I said.

“Hi honey,” dad’s low voice came over the line. “I was wondering how you’ve been doing. Haven’t heard from you in a while. How are you liking your stay at Dev and Monique’s?”

I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders once I heard his voice but I swallowed the insistent lump in my throat, forcing myself to make my voice as cheerful as possible. “It’s fun,” I managed to get out, but it sounded more like a strangled cry.

A long pause followed, and I knew my dad was onto me.

“You know I can always tell when you’re lying.” He sighed. “Listen Mila, I know everything’s not perfect over there,” my dad continued, and I exhaled after what seemed like weeks of holding my breath.

It felt like I’d stumbled upon this huge secret, knowing that Monique and Devan’s relationship was in trouble. To hear someone else admitting they’d noticed their difficulties gave me a sense of relief.

“I bet you feel a little pressured, huh?” dad asked.

“Yeah,” I replied in a small voice.

“Well, why don’t you let me take you out for a bit, treat you? We can get one of those burgers you like so much and catch up. Talk it over,” dad offered, and I let out a strangled sound.

“I’m not allowed to eat meat, let alone junk food,” I managed to say, but there was already a smile playing on my lips.

“Screw those rules,” dad chuckled. “You’re not pregnant yet, are you? Come on, it will be our little secret.”

I couldn’t resist any more; I agreed to his suggestion. After weeks of feeling like shit, I finally had a smile back on my face as I got ready for dad to pick me up.

I got ready in my room, sitting at my dressing table, freshening up my face and applying a new swipe of lipstick. Devan had failed to follow up on his promise to complete the bathroom in the apartment. It stayed half-finished, with bare drywall, a miserable grey, and with dust flying around coating everything it touched, including my clothes. I’d resorted to covering them up, protecting them with a plastic sheet instead of braving a conversation with Devan.

What a mess he had made, and not just with this apartment…

I bit my tongue and remembered the last time I’d seen him, knowing I shouldn’t have been snooping, but it was hard to ignore the fact that I’d seen him sleeping in the den. Every night when I went to pee in their bathroom he was there, his back turned on the sofa and a blanket covering his large frame. It broke my heart to see him like that, but I kept quiet and withdrew without saying a word.

Applying some blusher, I thought of what my stepbrother’s wife has been doing behind his back.

From the side window looking out onto the driveway I’d seen her getting dropped off and even picked up by the same man I saw her with that time in the den. She didn’t even seem to be hiding it, and by then, it was obvious to anyone who noticed what she was doing that it wasn’t a one-time thing. Far from it. It was a full-blown affair, and I hated her for it.

She was betraying Dev and making me face a terrible decision. I could go ahead, be their surrogate and deliver their child in the hopes that the baby might patch up their marriage, or I could forget the whole thing and leave them to it.

Through the window I saw my dad pull into the driveway. Grabbing my jacket, I rushed downstairs to meet him and tried to block out all thoughts of Monique, her affair and my lonely stepbrother.

“
I
’ll have my usual
, please,” I told the waitress as we settled into a booth. My dad really was treating me, instead of getting takeaway as I’d normally would he insisted of having a sit-down meal.

I pushed the menu away; I knew it by heart, anyway.

“Haven’t seen you in a long while,” she commented and gave me a curious look as I blushed. “Everything okay?”

“She’ll feel better after one of your delicious burgers,” my dad cut in, and I gave him a grateful look as he ordered the same meal as me. The waitress headed back to the kitchen, and we sat in companionable silence.

“I’m worried about you,” my dad finally confessed. I refused to meet his eye, focusing on the white paper napkin I was crumpling between my fingers. He went on despite my attempt to get him to change the subject.

“You seem like you’re struggling. You’re making a big sacrifice, Mila, and we all know it. You have to know both Monique and Devan are very grateful that you’re helping them.”

“I know,” I replied, heaving a sigh. “It’s just…”

I looked up at my dad, unsure of what I could tell him. It felt too private and intimate to share any of it with him, but maybe I could hide what I really knew and still get his opinion. “I want to help, but it’s very tough,” I admitted. “They have me on a special diet and special… rules. I can’t do much, really. And they fight a lot, Dad.”

“All couples fight, it’s probably just a phase,” he said cheerfully, and I gave him a doubtful look and shook my head. If he had witnessed at least one of Monique and Dev’s screaming sessions, he would be of a different opinion.

“Not like this…”

“Oh. I think I understand,” my dad finally admitted, finding my hand with his. “I know it’s difficult. I don’t know the whole story, and in the end, this is your decision to make. Try not to let what’s going on in their personal lives affect your decision. You can still back out, you know.”

I nodded weakly, and he patted my hand just as the waitress set down two heaping plates on the table.

“I want you to be doing it all for the right reasons, not because you feel pressured. And I’ll support you no matter what you decide.” Dad added his final thought before tucking into his burger.

I just stared at mine, thinking hard.

Was I doing it for the right reasons?

Suddenly I knew one thing full sure: I did not want to have a hand in bringing a child into a damaged, broken family, a family that lacked trust and even the most basic ingredient: love.

With that realisation, a decision started to form in my mind.

T
he delicate strings
that held my life together seemed to be unravelling one by one. I was holding on by the skin of my teeth, struggling for weeks, trying hard to keep it all together.

My marriage was in crisis, slipping from my hands, fading away, and I knew I either had to do something about fixing it before it was too late or regret not trying. I had to give Monique the benefit of doubt. All the hormones and emotions that surrounded the very nature of desperately wanting a baby must’ve been wreaking havoc on her body and mind. She was the most important woman in my life; I had to take the torturous silences, the games, for the sake of our marriage.

But I felt like I was just a pawn in Monique’s life, though, when realistically I should be by her side, the king to her queen. Yet I was pushed out, kept at arm’s length, unloved and unwanted.

All of this and more had been going through my head when Mila called to ask if she could talk to my wife and me after dinner. I saw Monique clutching the silverware, her knuckles white with the tension in them. I could barely get a bite down, the bland meal tasting like sawdust in my throat. I had an inkling of what was to come - Mila had been distant, unable to look my way and barely uttering a word to either of us - she was struggling, too.

We finally finished our dinner and stacked the dishwasher, Monique and I awkwardly stepping around each other, as if any contact would turn us both to stone. A soft knock on the rear door let us know Mila had arrived.

Monique didn’t even look at me as she strode over to the door, letting my stepsister in. They hugged stiffly, and I looked away, feeling confused and drained.

We all sat down at the kitchen table; Mila took a deep breath, and I waited for the whole world to come crashing around our heads.

She glanced at me for a second, her eyes full of guilt, and I bit my tongue while my heart raced, pumping with adrenaline. I think I knew what was going to happen before my stepsister even opened her mouth. It was either one of two things.

Then she spoke up, and the words were out there, in the open. There was no going back.

“I can’t do it,” Mila said, her voice firm as Monique gasped, and her hand flew up to her mouth. I exhaled slowly, controlling my relief that it was the lesser of two evils Mila had decided to reveal.

Instead of trying to comfort my distraught wife, Mila looked straight at me as she spoke up again. “I don’t mean to pry, and I don’t want to cause trouble, but you two aren’t even speaking. I don’t think it’s the right time to bring a child into the world if its parents are going to be at each other’s throats the entire time.”

“What would you know about marriage? You’re just a kid!” Monique spluttered between sobs. The anger was winning against the heartache, I could tell.

Tears were streaming down my wife’s face, and my heart broke for the woman I loved… or at least used to love.

“I don’t think I’m ready, either,” Mila finished in a whisper, her voice finally breaking a little. “I know I have disappointed you both, and I’m sorry… I will get out of your hair as soon as possible. I promise not to be a burden.”

“You…” Monique whispered, and Mila and I both looked at her expectantly. I’d had a feeling this might happen, but Monique seemed truly surprised. Did she really expect to get away with treating Mila like shit, like her very own baby incubator?

“You filthy, dirty, lying slut!” she yelled all of a sudden, getting up from her chair so fast she almost fell over.

Mila and I both rose as well, and we stared at Monique in shock. She had gone into full meltdown mode, her eyes bulging in fury, tears flowing freely down her face as she screeched at Mila like a banshee.

“You lied to us and cheated us, and you’re going to get sued, you self-entitled little brat!” my wife spat out, and Mila looked like she was about to break.

And because I was a fool, I stepped in front of her, shielding her from Monique, protecting her with my body, but it only served to enrage my wife more.

“And you!” she screamed. “You bastard! You fucking snake. You said she’d do it. You said it was a done deal. You goddamn liar. You almost had me thinking you were human, but now I see how cold-blooded you really are. You never even wanted a baby, did you?”

“Monique! Who are you right now? You know that’s not true. You’re upset and I get that, but you have no right to act like such a fucking bitch!” I took a sharp intake of breath, regretting the words as soon as they were out of my mouth, out in the open for everyone to hear.

Her eyes bulged, and she grabbed her purse from the kitchen table. She glared at us as she stomped towards the front door.

“You two may not be related by blood,” she spat out, “but you sure are alike. Two deceitful, lying snakes.”

She spun on her heels, leaving Mila and me in the ruins of our arrangement.

My stepsister was shaking behind me, but I still had an obligation, and as long as Monique wore that gold band on her ring finger, I had to fulfil my promise to her. In for the good and the bad, for better and for worse, right?

Without another thought, I left Mila behind, not daring to look over my shoulder. I knew it would break my determination to do the right thing –if I even spoke to her right then, I’d immediately want to comfort her. I was a married man, and even though Mila was family and possibly much more, Monique was my main concern - she had to be.

I rushed out the door after Monique and spotted her car already speeding off down the road. I got into my truck as fast as possible, and I ignored the muffled crying coming from inside the house, even though it was tearing my heart in half.

There would be a time I’d be able to make it up to her, but for now I had to follow Monique. I peered through blurry eyes as I drove, trying to locate my wife, but I’d lost her. Her little red sports car was nowhere to be found. I couldn’t give up, though, and admit that it was all over, so I drove all over the city to the usual spots – her parents’ house, her friends’ places, everywhere, ringing her cell constantly but getting nothing but her voicemail. I was going to call it quits when I pulled into the parking lot of a gas station and got a six-pack of beer.

I seldom drank, but it felt like a good time to start.

Just as I was returning to the truck, I saw a familiar shade of vibrant red out of the corner of my eye. It belonged to a small car parked at the motel next to the gas station. Furrowing my brows, I dropped the beer onto the passenger side of the truck and sneaked over to the motel, my agitated heart already beating in anticipation.

It was indeed Monique’s car, not just the same design and colour, but the plates as well. I didn’t see her anywhere near it, and I grew worried as I scanned the area for a sign of her.

I caught a movement in my peripheral vision. My eyes focused on a car farther down in the parking lot. Two people sat in it, arms around each other, kissing, oblivious to their surroundings.

The thickness in my throat returned, and I dreaded what I was about to see. My legs felt like they were filled with lead, heavy and spent, but I advanced; I needed to know for sure.

The car was expensive, luxurious, the type that executives or lawyers preferred - and I sighed as I recognised its owner.

I stared a little longer, in a haze, at the writhing couple until it became clear to me that my world had turned upside down, never to be the same ever again.

The woman who was sucking the man’s face off in the car was none other than my wife. And the man tearing at her clothes, yanking down her bra strap, was her boss: Alan.

I’d met him a few times at dinner parties, and though he’d been perfectly polite, he’d probably been laughing at me as he fucked my wife behind my back this whole time.

How long had it been going on? I questioned. When had she stopped touching me? All those late night meetings, work emergencies… how had I been so oblivious to what was going on in my own marriage?

The realisation dawned on me that the pain I expected to feel as I watched another man caress and fondle my wife right in front of my eyes was only a dull ache. Surely, I should’ve been pulling them out of the car, confronting them? Yelling in their faces?

But no, I stared at my wife dry-humping her boss only hours after fighting with me about a baby we could not have, and I saw our future fading into nothingness, aware that that chapter of my life was over and done with.

When I’d had enough of torturing myself, I turned around and slowly walked back to my car. I wasn’t crying, shouting or cursing. A sense of calm had wrapped itself around me like a protective shroud, giving me a sense of clarity that I needed right in that moment.

There was only one place where I needed to be, one person I wanted to be with. My single mistake was not realising it sooner. Mila was the one for me.

I hoped it wasn’t too late as I stepped on the gas pedal, rushing to get back home to her. A look in the rear-view mirror showed my wife getting her shirt peeled off by her boss. They couldn’t even wait till they got into the motel, I thought.

Tightening my grip upon the steering wheel I concentrated on the road ahead. My mind was slowly putting together the pieces, and a thought became clearer and clearer.

I didn’t love her any more. I hadn’t loved Monique in a long time.

But there was a woman that I did love, and I’d left her alone in tears, abandoned her when she needed me, when I went in search of my cheating, hypocritical wife.

I had to make it right before it was too late.