My Stepfather, My Ruin

7

Roxy

“What’s going on?” Dorian set his glass down. “Do you know him?”

“No,” I lied quickly, forcing a tight, practiced smile onto my face. “No, Dad... not at all.”

I passed the phone back, my fingers not quite steady.

“He’ll be home soon,” Dorian said, smiling.

I nodded and picked up my fork, pretending to be interested in food I couldn’t taste. Why him? Out of every name in the world, every family in this city, it had to be him.

I could feel eyes on me from across the table, but I kept mine on my plate. Evander’s face filled my mind instead, the same crinkle at his eyes, the same easy smile that used to make me feel like the only person in the room.

“Roxy, are you okay?” my mother asked.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Are you sure?” Dorian leaned forward. “Something seems to be on your mind.”

I pushed food around for a few seconds longer, then excused myself and went straight upstairs.

I shut my door and pressed the service bell.

Mary appeared a moment later. “Young Miss. Do you need something?”

I turned my phone toward her, the same photo as before. “Do you know who this is?”

“No, young miss.” Her face gave nothing away this time.

“Don’t.” I stepped closer. “This is Evander. The young master.”

“Master Dorian already informed you.”

Something in my chest went cold. “What do you mean?”

“We are servants of the Sinclair family.” Her eyes stayed on the floor. “We don’t gossip about our masters. It’s the rule here, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

I laughed, short and bitter, and turned away from her. “Fine. You can go.”

“Young Miss—”

“Please.” Quieter this time. “I just need to be alone.”

She bowed and let herself out. I listened to her footsteps fade down the hall before I let myself move again.

I sat on the edge of the bed and made myself think, actually think, instead of just spiraling.

Leave.

That was the only thought that made any sense. Pack a bag, take the bus back to the old apartment, except the lease was gone.

Stay with Anna, then. Except Anna’s mother worked nights and slept days, and the apartment was one bedroom for the two of them already.

I opened my banking app out of habit and stared at the number on the screen. Enough for a week. Not enough for anything after that.

I could withdraw from school. Finish somewhere else, somewhere far from this house, this city, this name. Except my scholarship was tied to Crestmont, and I was one semester from graduating. Starting over anywhere else meant starting over completely.

Every door I tried in my head had Dorian’s name already on the other side of it, somewhere. The house. My mother, who would never forgive me for leaving her here alone with a man I couldn’t prove was anything but kind.

I dialed Anna instead of doing anything useful with any of it.

She picked up on the third ring.

“He’s the one,” I said before she could speak. “Evander is the young master.”

“Roxy, tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.” I bit my thumbnail, the habit I’d never managed to break. “His father showed me a picture at dinner.”

“Okay. Breathe. In and out.”

I did, more or less.

“Tell me everything,” Anna said. “Not the short version. What did he say? What did your mom say? All of it.”

So I did. Dorian’s easy smile as he passed the phone across the table, my mother’s hand over her heart at the thought of meeting her new son, the exact words, he’s coming home soon, said like a gift instead of a threat.

“Okay,” Anna muttered when I finished. “Here’s what I actually think. He’s your ex. He cheated. Apparently, he lied about who he even was for two years, which, honestly, explains a lot about how easily he lied about everything else. That’s a lot to carry. I’m not going to pretend it isn’t.”

“But?”

“But you’re not that nineteen-year-old anymore. You survived him once already. His father marrying your mother doesn’t make him your family. It just makes him someone who happens to live in the same house. You only have to be afraid of him if some part of you still wants him to look at you the way he used to.”

“I don’t.”

“Then there’s nothing here that can actually hurt you. Unless you let it.”

I wanted to believe that as much as she clearly did.

A knock came at my door. “I have to go,” I whispered, and hung up before she could answer.

My mother stepped in just as I set the phone down, my face still not fully composed.

“Mom, do you need something?”

“Roxy, dear.” She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “You were so quiet at dinner.”

“I am fine, Mom.”

“I know when something’s bothering you.” She took my hand. “Is it your stepbrother? Dorian says he’s a good man. You don’t need to be afraid.”

A good man. Something dark curled in my chest at that.

“He just looks familiar,” I said, looking at our joined hands instead of her face.

“Did you know him at Crestmont?”

“No. Not like that.”

She pulled me into a brief hug, her hand stroking my hair the way she used to when I was little. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need me,” she said, and left me to the quiet.

It didn’t stay quiet for long. My mind went back to the day we met, four years ago, before any of it had gone wrong.

“You dropped this.”

A guy in a faded canvas jacket, holding out my cheap plastic pen, with a warm, unhurried smile and a crinkle at the corners of his eyes that made him look harmless.

“Thank you,” I muttered awkwardly, taking it from his hand.

“I’m Evander,” he’d said.

“Roxy.”

“You’re a fresher.”

“Yes.”

He was an upperclassman. We became friends fast anyway. He noticed things: when I was stressed, when I skipped lunch, when I needed someone to just say something kind. Attentive. Tall. The kind of caring that felt like it meant something, back when I still believed caring and honesty came from the same place.

I was over the moon when he finally asked me out. I became his girlfriend, and everyone on campus envied us, until the day he shattered my world by betraying me with Jessica.

I never even got the chance to hear him explain it. He didn’t try.

I made myself get up, pushed the memory back where it belonged, and crossed to the closet Dorian had filled without asking me.

My hand landed on the strap of an old duffel bag, still folded flat at the bottom from moving day. I pulled it out and set it on the bed. I stared at it but didn’t open it.

Every plan I’d run through in my head ended the same way: nowhere to go, no money that would last, a mother who would break in half if I vanished without a word.

I put the bag back.

I needed to be gone before Evander walked through those doors. I just hadn’t found a way to leave that didn’t cost me everything else.

Because as much as I lied to Anna, and to myself, one question wouldn’t leave me alone.

What if he looked at me, and I realized I’d never stopped?