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Isolate, Observe, Pretend Nothing Happened

Author: Maya East
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-05-10 22:43:05

Still morning and..Portland greeted me with a sky the color of ruined laundry.

I walked into the Northlake building a little after eight, coffee in hand, black blazer, tailored pants, hair neat, lipstick expensive enough to make people afraid to ask whether I had slept. The answer didn’t matter. I was here. I was wearing heels. I hadn’t killed anyone.

Personal growth.

Tania stood from her workstation the moment she saw me. Her expression was not “good morning, boss.” It was more “there’s a digi
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  • My Sister's Fiance   the ordinary things were the dangerous ones

    I stopped. “This morning?” I asked, even though the answer had already settled between us.He nodded once, his eyes still forward. “They woke up beside me. Fought over space. Called me Daddy Shiny like it was the most normal thing in the world. Max negotiated over Red Rex. Issa asked about her hair. They argued in the car. You almost turned into your mother when Issa pulled Max’s hair.”“I did not almost.”“Bella.”“I was spiritually controlled.”His mouth moved slightly, but the smile didn’t quite reach all the way. “I liked taking them to school.”Something in my chest slowed.Or maybe it stopped for a second.Zach looked down at his own hands on the steering wheel. His fingers were loose, but I noticed the way his thumb brushed against the side of the leather, small and almost unconscious. Like someone who had just held something too fragile for the first time and still wasn’t sure it had really been given to him.“Nothing big,” he said. “Not an event. Not an announcement. Not some

  • My Sister's Fiance   the children left, the trouble stayed

    “Espresso machine,” Zach repeated, like he’d just discovered that a world war could start over an Italian kitchen appliance.I finally looked at him. “Don’t pretend that isn’t your emotional weakness.”“I’m Italian, Bella.”“You’re a rich man with a coffee machine that has more features than my first car. That’s a disease.”His smile appeared slowly. Behind us, the preschool doors had already closed. Max and Issa had disappeared inside that little building with their backpacks, their hair, their social announcements, and probably one complete story about Daddy Shiny that would spread faster than winter flu.I took a breath.Okay.One disaster down.All the others to go.Zach opened the passenger door for me, too calm, too polite, too aware that several mothers near the drop-off lane were still trying to look without looking.“Don’t act like a gentleman. I don’t need more rumors.”“Rumors?” He glanced briefly toward the other parents, then back at me. “You just showed up with two child

  • My Sister's Fiance   family looked terribly good on us

    Issa was already out, holding Zach’s hand with satisfaction. She looked toward the school gate, her little compact mirror already confiscated and tucked into my bag before she could turn it into a diplomatic tool.“Daddy,” she said, looking up at him. “If Leo sees my hair, he might be impressed.”Zach stared straight ahead.I could see the internal battle on his face.Only a new father with zero immunity to a little girl in a lavender coat, round cheeks, and the word Leo.“He’ll keep a respectful distance,” Zach said finally.Max immediately giggled.Issa frowned. “Why? My hair needs to be seen up close.”“Not too close,” Zach said.I held back a laugh.We walked toward the gate, Zach holding Issa’s hand and me holding Max’s, while two security men moved far enough away not to make the schoolyard look like a crime scene, but close enough that I could breathe.The other parents were still looking. Some tried to pretend they weren’t. One woman in expensive yoga pants stared at Zach for

  • My Sister's Fiance   daddy shiny has concerns

    “Relax,” Zach said quietly.“I am relaxed.”“You’re thinking of three ways to kill public attention.”“Four. Don’t underestimate me.”His smile appeared again. “Never.”I unbuckled my seat belt. “We get out, walk them to the gate, talk to Ms. Harper if we need to, then leave. No drama.”“I want a dramatic goodbye,” Issa said.“No.”“I need a hug with emotion.”“You’ll get a normal hug.”“A normal hug has no storyline.”Max sighed. “I want to go in fast. I want to tell Leo my Daddy is real.”Issa immediately turned sharply toward him. “Don’t tell Leo.”Max smiled. “Why?” he asked so sweetly even the devil might have felt threatened. “Are you embarrassed for Leo to know you have a Daddy Shiny?”Issa’s face immediately went red. “I don’t care about Leo!”“You like Leo.”“I do not!”“You said Leo’s hair is fluffy.”“That was an observation!”I looked at Zach.His face shifted slightly, his jaw tightening half an inch, his blue eyes suddenly focusing through the rearview mirror on our four

  • My Sister's Fiance   Beautiful & Dangerous

    Zach glanced at me.I ignored him. “And,” I continued, pointing at Max and then Issa, “you’re both Mommy’s children too, so unfortunately, you also got the attitude that makes all of this harder for society.”Max looked pleased. “So I’m handsome and attitude.”“Do not turn that into a slogan.”Issa looked at her compact, then smiled slightly. “I’m beautiful and dangerous.”I regretted everything.Immediately.Zach laughed this time. He didn’t hide it. The sound was low, filling the car with a warmth I hadn’t invited that still walked in like it owned the place.I turned toward him. “Don’t laugh. This is your fault.”“All of it?”“Blue eyes, cheekbones, ego.”“Your attitude.”“Don’t throw my genetics back at me.”“You brought up genetics.”“You’re the one driving this car with a face that looks way too pleased.”“You want me to drive with a sad face?”“I want you to drive with the face of a man who understands he has two four-year-olds who are going to destroy a preschool before snack

  • My Sister's Fiance   aesthetic crimes and paternal evidence

    “I didn’t pull it.” Issa sounded offended. “I just corrected his hair.”“You pulled it!”“Because your hair has a bad attitude.”“It hurt!”“That was styling.”I kept my eyes closed. Behind my eyelids, I could see Mamá in Bogotá, perfect eyeliner and all, standing in the kitchen of my childhood with a wooden spoon raised, calling her children by their full names in a tone powerful enough to make my uncles believe in God again.No.I was not becoming that version of her this morning. I was a grown woman. A CEO. A modern mother. The owner of Blackpine root access. I could resolve conflict without invoking every saint, every Gómez ancestor, and one creative threat about sending a child to a convent.I opened my eyes.Zach glanced at me from the side, clearly holding something back. A smile, maybe. A prayer, possibly.“You’re enjoying my suffering,” I hissed.“I’m driving.”“You’re driving with a smug face.”“Hard not to look smug when you’re this handsome.”I turned fully toward him.He

  • My Sister's Fiance   Hot People Ruin Everything

    And then... the blue eyes I’d once punched found mine across the crowd.Oh, good.Just fantastic.If the universe had a sense of humor, it was definitely drunk.I didn’t know who moved first. Maybe not him. Maybe not me. Maybe the room just suddenly felt too tight, too bright, too full of people wh

  • My Sister's Fiance   Confetti, Cousins, and the Man I Punched

    Five days in the Gómez house felt like being tossed into an industrial washing machine: spinning, loud, warm, and there was always someone shoving food at you even after you’d just said you were full.On day one, Mamá had already rearranged my entire schedule like I was back in eleventh grade and n

  • My Sister's Fiance   It’s Just an Engagement Party (What Could Possibly Go Wrong?)

    The second-floor workspace looks like a bored Pinterest board: neat white desk, bookshelves, two monitors. I’m in a fitted black blazer on top… alpaca-print pajama pants on the bottom.Out in the hallway, just beyond the half-closed door, the sound of running shakes the corridor.“SUPER MAX WILL SA

  • My Sister's Fiance   Five Years After the Fire

    Five years later.Oregon rain tapped softly against the kitchen’s glass wall. Steady, cold, and mildly annoying.The pan on the stove hissed quietly, the smell of almost-done corn arepas mixing with black coffee and the chorizo I was frying in the skillet next to it. A slow Latin playlist floated f

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