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홈 / Romance / Nineteen Days: Claimed by My Stepson / Chapter 14: The Breaking Point

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Chapter 14: The Breaking Point

작가: D&M
last update 최신 업데이트: 2026-01-16 19:33:16

AMELIA

Victor left for the office at eight sharp, same as always. Kissed my cheek, told me he loved me, promised dinner at that new place downtown. The door closed behind him and the apartment felt like it exhaled.

I stood in the kitchen for a full minute, staring at the coffee mug he left behind, still warm.

Then I walked to Ethan’s room.

He was waiting, leaning against the doorframe in nothing but gray sweatpants, arms crossed, eyes already burning.

“You’re shaking,” he said, voice low.

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  • Nineteen Days: Claimed by My Stepson   Chapter 19: Echoes in the Empty

    AMELIA The door clicked shut behind Victor, and the sound echoed through me like a final slam on everything we'd known. I stood frozen in the living room, arms wrapped tight around myself, feeling the chill of the air conditioning bite into my skin. Ethan's hand found mine, squeezing so hard it hurt, but I didn't pull away. His grip was the only thing keeping me from crumbling right there.He let out a breath he'd been holding forever, ragged and broken. "He's gone."I nodded, throat too tight to speak. Tears burned hot tracks down my cheeks, and I swiped at them angrily, hating how weak I felt. "That... that was it? No yelling? No throwing things?"Ethan sank onto the couch, pulling me down with him. His face was pale, eyes glassy like he was seeing ghosts. "I don't know what I expected. Part of me wanted him to scream. To make it hurt more so I could feel like I deserved it. But that? That quiet? It was worse. Like he looked at me and saw a stranger."His voice cracked on the

  • Nineteen Days: Claimed by My Stepson   Chapter 18: The Door Opens

    AMELIA The apartment was dead quiet all day. No music from Ethan’s room. No clink of dishes. Just the hum of the fridge and the occasional car horn thirty floors below. I sat on the terrace with a cup of tea I didn’t drink, staring at the city like it might give me answers.Ethan found me there at six. He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like he hadn’t slept either. His eyes were red-rimmed, jaw tight.“He texted,” he said, voice flat but thick with something heavy underneath. “Said he’s coming over. Now.”My stomach dropped so fast I felt sick. “Now? Like… right now?”Ethan nodded once. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe less.”I stood up too quick, tea sloshing over the rim. “We’re not ready. I’m not ready.”He stepped closer, caught my wrists gently. “Neither am I. But we don’t get to pick the moment anymore.”His thumbs stroked the inside of my wrists, slow and steady, like he was trying to anchor us both. “We just… tell him the truth again. No sugar. No excuses.”I looked

  • Nineteen Days: Claimed by My Stepson   Chapter 18: The Door Opens

    AMELIA The apartment was dead quiet all day. No music from Ethan’s room. No clink of dishes. Just the hum of the fridge and the occasional car horn thirty floors below. I sat on the terrace with a cup of tea I didn’t drink, staring at the city like it might give me answers.Ethan found me there at six. He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like he hadn’t slept either. His eyes were red-rimmed, jaw tight.“He texted,” he said, voice flat but thick with something heavy underneath. “Said he’s coming over. Now.”My stomach dropped so fast I felt sick. “Now? Like… right now?”Ethan nodded once. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe less.”I stood up too quick, tea sloshing over the rim. “We’re not ready. I’m not ready.”He stepped closer, caught my wrists gently. “Neither am I. But we don’t get to pick the moment anymore.”His thumbs stroked the inside of my wrists, slow and steady, like he was trying to anchor us both. “We just… tell him the truth again. No sugar. No excuses.”I looked

  • Nineteen Days: Claimed by My Stepson   Chapter 17: The Weight of Waiting

    I stood in the living room, staring at Victor's note on the counter like it might change if I glared hard enough. The words blurred through tears—lawyers, hotel, space. It felt like a punch every time I read it.Ethan came up behind me, his hands sliding onto my shoulders, thumbs pressing gentle circles into the knots there. His touch carried that mix of comfort and fire, the kind that made my breath hitch even now."Amelia," he said, voice low and rough, laced with that ache we'd both been carrying since the restaurant. "You can't keep rereading it. It's not going to say anything new."I turned, leaning into his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart against my cheek. "I know. But it hurts, Ethan. Seeing how much we broke him. He sounded so... defeated in that text. Like we stole something from him he can't get back."Ethan's arms wrapped around me tighter, his chin resting on my head. "We did. And it kills me too. He's my dad. The man who raised me, taught me everything. But I

  • Nineteen Days: Claimed by My Stepson   Chapter 16: The Aftermath Begins

    AMELIA The apartment felt too big the next morning. Echoes in places that used to feel full. Victor’s cologne still lingered in the hallway like a ghost refusing to leave. I stood in the kitchen barefoot, staring at the coffee machine, not sure how to make one cup instead of three.Ethan came up behind me, arms sliding around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. His warmth pressed into my back and for a second the world felt right again.“You didn’t sleep,” he murmured against my neck.“Not really.” I leaned into him. “Kept waiting for the door to open. For him to come back and say it was all a nightmare.”Ethan’s arms tightened. “He’s not coming back tonight.”I turned in his hold, searched his face. “You talked to him?”“Texted. He replied once. Said he needs space. That he can’t look at either of us right now.”My chest caved. “He hates us.”“He hates what we did to him.” Ethan’s voice cracked just enough to hurt. “Not us. Not yet.”I pressed my forehead to his collarbone.

  • Nineteen Days: Claimed by My Stepson    Chapter 15: The Dinner We Dreaded

    AMELIA Victor left for the office at eight sharp, same as always. Kissed my cheek, told me he loved me, promised dinner at that new place downtown. The door closed behind him and the apartment felt like it exhaled.I stood in the kitchen for a full minute, staring at the coffee mug he left behind, still warm.Then I walked to Ethan’s room.He was waiting, leaning against the doorframe in nothing but gray sweatpants, arms crossed, eyes already burning.“You’re shaking,” he said, voice low.“I’m terrified,” I answered honestly. “But I can’t pretend anymore.”He stepped forward, caught my face in both hands. “Then don’t.”We crashed together. Mouths hungry, teeth clashing, hands tearing at clothes. My dress hit the floor. His sweatpants followed. No underwear for either of us.He backed me against the wall, lifted one of my legs around his hip, and thrust inside in one hard stroke.I cried out, nails raking down his back.“Fuck—Ethan—”“Quiet,” he growled against my throat, but he w

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