My Stepson;My Lover

~Nivea

I stomped my feet at the entrance of the house to throw off the mud that had gathered in the sole of my worn-out Nikes. 

It was barely eight in the morning and I was already so tired from working the midnight 6-hour shift at the luxury bar I was lucky to get a job at. 

"I'm home!" I called as I entered into the living room to find my Dad seated on his favorite seat, a newspaper clenched in his right hand, but he didn't seem to be focusing on its content, rather his gaze was staring far at the wall, lost in thoughts. 

Was Dad worrying again? It wasn't good for his health.

"Oh Nivea, you are back. How was work at the bar today?" My stepmother, Stella, asked as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands with a discolored kitchen rag. 

"It went well," 

Dropping my voice into a whisper, I sidled closer to her and asked, "Did anything happen again? Why is Dad like that? Hope it's not about Nova?" I asked, my eyes widening in panic. 

"No no," Stella quickly appeased, seeing the panic in my eyes. "It's just-" 

Giving my father a glance, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the living room to the bedroom I shared with my twin sister, Nova.  

My Dad was a civil servant, so he didn't earn that much, but he made sure to provide for us adequately, making sure I and my sister never lacked anything. And this extended to his wife, Stella too. 

Stella was a stay-at-home wife and my Dad worshipped the ground she walked on. 

He was one of those men who believed a woman needed to be well cared for by the men in her life. 

"What's wrong Stella?" I asked as soon as we were safely within my room walls. 

I had never been able to call Stella, mum, unlike my sister, Nova, who was the more friendly of the two of us. This didn't mean I didn't like Stella. I liked and respected her, especially how she made my dad happy. 

Mom had died when we were eight years old, and I had been so close to her, as she was the one who understood me the most. 

When she died in an accident, it had pushed me deeper into my shell, and even after Dad married Stella four years later, she just couldn't take Mum's place in my heart.

"Someone came over to see us yesterday night," Stella stated, her eyes shifting, and not meeting my eyes, which told me something was very wrong. 

Stella never acted like this. She faced things head-on confidently, which was one of the things I appreciated about her. 

"What's happening Stella? Please just tell me. You know I have to head over to the hospital to see Nova and catch some shut-eye before I head to my weekend afternoon shift at the restaurant, so just tell me what's wrong," I stated exasperatedly. 

I was bone tired and really wanted to get off my feet and soak in the tub for a minute or two to relieve those tight knots in my shoulder and ankles from serving all night before I went about the rest of my day. 

"Okay, here it is," She stated, straightening her shoulder and meeting my eyes head-on. 

"A Mr. Thomas Westington came here yesterday, and he has expressed interest in marrying you," 

"What!" I shouted in shock. 

Who the heck was Mr. Thomas Westington, and why would he want to marry me? 

"Shh… Quiet Nivea," Stella whispered, holding a finger to her lips as she listened for someone coming-the someone whom I assumed was my Dad since no other person was in the house with us. 

"He said he met you at the luxury bar you work at, and fell for you immediately," She continued, giving me a look. 

I understood what that look meant. 

Although I looked almost exactly like my twin sister, Nova, with the same dark hair and green eyes, she was considered more pretty than me. Everyone always said so.

I was Nivea, the boring twin with her head always stuffed in a book or staring into space, living in my imagination, while my twin, Nova, was the friendly outgoing twin, whom everyone liked and all the boys wanted to date and be with. 

"So? What did you guys tell him?" I knew my Dad would never agree to something that stupid. 

"Of course, your Dad rejected his advances," Stella answered, causing me to release a deep breath of relief. 

We weren't in the Middle Ages, so Dad couldn't marry me off to just anyone, but I still felt relieved that he hadn't considered it. I knew how things were hard for him right now, but I was trying to pull my weight too.

And the Mr. Thomas Westington I remembered from the bar was a lecherous old man. He exuded wealth from his well-groomed black hair to his well-polished expensive shoes, but the look in his eyes when he gazed at me? Huh huh…That look was a no-no. 

The old geezer had even grabbed my ass when I came to serve him and his group of friends, propositioning me and spitting out huge amounts of money, like that was enough reason for me to sleep with him… Yuck! 

"But here is the thing Nivea. He offered to pay all your sister's hospital bills, including the chemotherapy fees, and all our debts. He even promised to fund your schooling, so you can go back to college," 

"What!" I shouted in shock, rushing to place my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. 

"He basically wants to buy me! I'm very glad Dad didn't consider his offer," I snapped angrily. 

The guts of people. I shook my head in disgust, as I moved to my wardrobe to change into another shirt. 

I needed to go see Nova now before visiting hours were over. I would have that soak when I got back from the hospital. 

"I think you should consider it, Nivea," Stella said softly, stopping me in my tracks as I pulled my dirty tee shirt over my head. 

I pushed the shirt off my face, the rest of it hanging around my neck and one arm, as I turned back to look at Stella, my mouth open in confusion. 

"We are in so much debt already and I know you are doing your best working all those multiple jobs, your dad is doing his best too but it's not enough, it's not. The bank will be coming to take this house soon as collateral, which will render us homeless, your sister's chemotherapy date has been fixed, but we've not been able to balance up the fees,"

Coming up to me, she grasped my free hand tightly. 

"To me, this is a gift and we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, Nivea. Mr. Thomas Westington is handsome, very wealthy, and is the owner of West Software Inc.; the biggest software company in California. He will take good care of you, and I'm sure you will lack for nothing," She added, persuasively. 

"If he's so all that, why don't you marry him yourself!" I snapped harshly, as I righted my shirt and stormed out of the room, going through the living room, where my Dad was still gazing blankly at the wall. 

I didn't need to change my clothes, I could just visit Nova like this, while I deleted this whole ridiculous conversation from my brain. 

Marry? I was just twenty-one and didn't need to marry anyone. Not when my whole life was still in front of me and I haven't even started living yet. 

I've never even had a boyfriend! I thought angrily as I walked to the bus stop. 

No. I had a plan. 

My plan was to try as much as I could to get my History degree, even if it was at the Community College, get a job as a curator at a well-paying museum in the state, have a boyfriend, and maybe marry. 

That was the order I wanted my life to be in, not backwards! 

So, no. My family and I would have to find a way to survive without Mr Thomas freaking Westington's help!