MY SISTER'S BOYFRIEND (CHAPTER SIX)

The moment I stepped into my room, I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. My heart was still beating like I'd just run up a flight of stairs. I closed my eyes. Then opened them again. What the hell was that? I pushed away from the door and walked towards my bed, dropping onto it with a frustrated sigh. My gaze settled on the ceiling, but my mind was somewhere else entirely. In the kitchen. With him. I pressed my pmy face. Why did he do that? Why did he have to come so close? Why did he look at me like that? And why, for the love of God, had I reacted like that? I'd met handsome men before. Or at least, I thought I did. But whatever had happened downstairs had left me feeling like a complete fool. The worst part was that Aaron hadn't even done anything particularly outrageous. He'd helped me reach a glass. That was all. Except it wasn't all, was it? There had been his hands on my waist. His eyes holding mine. The way he'd leaned close enough for me to catch the scent of his cologne. And that voice. You're distracting. I groaned and buried my face in a pillow. "Oh, shut up," I muttered to absolutely no one. He probably thought I was some nervous little girl who couldn't handle a man standing too close to her. The thought irritated me enough to make me sit up. I could handle Aaron Of course I could. I was a grown woman with a job, responsibilities, and far more important things to worry about than my stepsister's annoyingly attractive boyfriend. Like my career. My designs. The event that was practically threatening to swallow my life whole. Yes. Those were the things I needed to focus on. Not Aaron. Definitely not Aaron. My phone rang. I grabbed it from the bedside table, grateful for the distraction. Katherine's name flashed across the screen. I answered immediately. "Hey, babe." "Well,someone is a little too happy to hear my voice ." Katherine's cheerful voice filled my ear. " A small smile tugged at my lips. "Very funny." "I know. It's one of my many gifts. So, how are you doing? And before you give me that usual 'I'm fine' nonsense, remember that I know you." I glanced towards my bedroom door. For a second, I considered telling her about Aaron. Then I imagined the questions. The dramatic gasps. The interrogation that would probably last until midnight. I wasn't ready for that. "I'm okay," I said instead. Katherine went quiet. I frowned at my phone. "What?" "Nothing." "Kat. What did you do?" "Nothing!!." I could hear her rolling her eyes I laughed at myself. "How are your designs coming." "You're avoiding my question." I picked at a loose thread on my bedsheet. "Can you come over?" There was a brief silence. "To your house?" "Yes, Katherine. My house. The building I live in." "Theresa." "What?" "You know I love you, right?" I smiled. "Unfortunately." "But that house?" She sucked her teeth. "Don't get mad at me when I tell Veronica off, cause someone is definitely ending up in a hospital bed" I smiled knowing she was right, she and Veronica never agrees… "You're exaggerating." "Am I? Because the last time she made that little comment about your job, I nearly asked her whether being somebody's daughter was her only qualification in life." I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing too loudly. "Katherine!" "What? I kept it to myself. That's growth, babe. Personal development." I laughed harder this time, and for the first time since leaving the kitchen, the tightness in my chest eased. Then Katherine spoke again, her voice softer. "Seriously, though. Why do you want me to come over? Did something happen?" My smile faded slightly. I looked down at my fingers. "Nothing happened. I just don't feel like being here tonight." That was the truth. Just not the whole truth. Katherine didn't answer immediately. Then she sighed. "Okay. How about this? I'll come and get you. You can spend the night at my place, and we can order food, watch something terrible, and pretend we have our lives together." I smiled. "Thank you, Kat." "Always." The call ended. I stared at my phone for a moment before dropping it onto the bed. Then my eyes drifted towards the door again. Aaron was probably still downstairs. Probably sitting comfortably in the living room or talking business with my father, completely unaware that he'd managed to turn my evening into a psychological crisis. I shook my head. No. I wasn't doing this. I grabbed my overnight bag from the wardrobe and started packing. A few clothes. My skincare products. My charger. My laptop. Then I paused, looking at the laptop in my hand. Did I really want to spend the night working? I considered it for a moment before dropping it into the bag. Apparently, I did. Some habits were impossible to break. --- Twenty minutes later, Katherine's call came through. "I'm outside," she announced. I chuckled. "Give me five minutes." "You have three." "Goodbye, Katherine." "Love you too, babe!" I ended the call, grabbed my bag, and took one last look around my room. I quietly opened my door and stepped into the hallway. The house was unusually quiet. As I descended the stairs, I glanced towards the living room. My father wasn't there, and neither were Celophine or Veronica. Good. I reached the front door, turned the handle, and stepped outside. The cool evening air brushed against my face. I hadn't realized how badly I needed to leave until that moment. Katherine's car was parked a short distance from the entrance. She leaned across the passenger seat and pushed the door open for me. "Welcome to your temporary escape from madness." I climbed in. "You're so stupid." "And yet, you called me." "Unfortunately." She grinned, pulled away from the driveway, and headed towards the main road. For the first few minutes, we talked about work. Katherine complained about a client who had apparently mistaken her for someone who could read minds. I told her about my meeting with Mr. Delgado, and she celebrated the fact that we'd managed to keep the investment. "See?" she said proudly. "My best friend is a genius." "Anastasia is the genius. I just presented the strategy." "And who came up with the presentation?" "I did." "Who saved the meeting?" "I helped." "Who is going to be buying me dinner when she becomes rich and famous?" I turned to look at her. "You are actually unbelievable." "Thank you. I work hard at it." I smiled, but the conversation gradually faded as we drove. The city lights passed outside the window, blurring into streaks of gold and white. I rested my head against the seat and watched the road. My thoughts returned to the kitchen before I could stop them. Aaron's hands. His gaze. That infuriatingly calm expression. I bit down on the side of my finger. Hard enough to feel it. Not hard enough to hurt. It was a habit I'd had for years, one that always resurfaced whenever I was nervous or troubled. Katherine used to tease me about it in university, threatening to wrap my fingers in bandages if I didn't stop. Apparently, I hadn't outgrown it. "Okay, babe, what is it?" Her voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned towards her. "What?" She glanced at me briefly before returning her eyes to the road. "Don't do that." "Do what?" "That thing where you pretend you haven't heard me because you're busy having a full-blown argument with yourself inside your head." I pulled my finger away from my mouth. "I'm not doing anything." "Theresa." "What?" She gave me a pointed look. "First, you've barely said a word in the last ten minutes. Second, you've been chewing your finger like it's personally offended you. I looked away. "You're ridiculous." "And you're deflecting." I sighed and settled deeper into the seat. "Nothing, Kat." She didn't respond immediately. When she finally spoke, her voice was gentler. "Okay." I glanced at her, surprised by the lack of argument. "Okay?" "Yes, okay. You don't have to tell me anything you aren't ready to talk about." Something in my chest loosened. Katherine had always been like that. She could be loud, dramatic, and entirely too comfortable saying whatever crossed her mind, but she knew when to stop pushing. It was one of the reasons I loved her. Then she added, "But if someone has upset you, I need you to know that I'm perfectly willing to ruin their evening." I laughed. "There she is." "Just making myself clear." I shook my head, smiling. The words were right there, sitting at the back of my throat. Something happened with Aaron. But how was I supposed to explain it? That he'd stood too close? That he'd touched my waist? That I'd been so painfully aware of him that I'd forgotten how to behave like a normal human being? Worse, that a part of me had wanted him to stay? That maybe it had meant nothing and I was just in my head? No. Absolutely not. Katherine would never let me live it down. And even if she didn't tease me, she'd ask the one question I wasn't prepared to answer. What does this mean for Veronica? I had no answer. I didn't even know what it meant for me. So I swallowed the confession and forced my gaze back to the window. She reached over and squeezed my hand briefly before returning it to the steering wheel. "Now, when we get home, we're ordering food. I refuse to let you sit around looking like a tragic heroine on an empty stomach." I laughed. "Can we please order something other than pizza?" "Absolutely not." "Katherine!" "Fine. We can discuss it. But I'm warning you, my vote carries more weight because this is my house." I shook my head, finally allowing myself to relax against the seat. For the first time that evening, I felt like I could breathe. --- By the time we arrived at Katherine's apartment, my shoulders had finally relaxed. Her place wasn't particularly large, but it was warm and comfortable. The living room was filled with soft cushions, a throw blanket draped carelessly over the sofa, and a faint scent of vanilla that always made me feel at home. It was the complete opposite of my father's house. There, I was constantly reminded of everything I had lost. Here, I didn't have to pretend I was fine. At least, not all the time. Katherine kicked off her shoes as soon as we entered and dropped her handbag onto the sofa. "Home sweet home," she announced. "Where nobody judges me for eating noodles at midnight." "Or for talking too much." She pointed at me. "Careful. You're a guest." I laughed and followed her into the living room, placing my bag beside the couch. "I'm going to change, and then we're ordering food." She disappeared into her bedroom. I sank onto the sofa, pulled my legs beneath me, and reached for the remote. The television came on, filling the room with the cheerful noise of a comedy show. I watched for a few seconds without taking in a single word. My phone vibrated beside me. I glanced down. A notification from an unknown number. For a moment, I considered ignoring it. Then another message appeared. Unknown Number: You left without saying goodbye. I stared at the screen. My stomach tightened. There was only one person who could have sent that message. Aaron. I sat up slowly, reading the words again as though they might change if I looked at them long enough. How did he get my number? And more importantly, why was he texting me? I glanced towards Katherine's bedroom. The sound of running water came from inside. I looked back at my phone. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Who is this? I deleted it. He would know I recognized his number, assuming he even expected me to have saved it. I didn't realize I owed you a goodbye. Too confrontational. I deleted that too. Why was I even considering replying? I tossed the phone onto the sofa as if it had suddenly become hot. A few seconds later, it vibrated again. I stared at it. Then, against my better judgment, I picked it up. Aaron: Goodnight, Theresa. I swallowed. It was such a simple message. Two words and my name. Nothing inappropriate. Nothing that could be used against him. And yet, I could practically hear his voice as I read it. Low. Calm. Infuriatingly sure of himself. I locked my phone and placed it facedown on the cushion beside me. "No," I whispered. Whatever game Aaron McHollan thought he was playing, I wasn't going to participate. He was Veronica's boyfriend. That was the only thing I needed to remember. The only thing that mattered. I repeated it silently, hoping the words would settle the strange uneasiness spreading through my chest. But even as I tried to convince myself, one question refused to leave me alone. If Aaron was so certain of where he belonged, why had he looked at me as though he was just as confused by what had happened between us? And why did I have the terrible feeling that the kitchen had only been the beginning?

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