Chapter Three - My step-?

Cael’s POV

“Home…not so sweet home.” I mumbled as I stepped into my bedroom.

I just had the intention to enter the bedroom, lay down on the bed, and erase everything from my mind.

Adrian was already gone. The suits had disappeared; the cologne bottles were vanished from the line they had occupied on the dresser; the framed photo of us which he had insisted on keeping next to the bed was also gone. Only his closet door stood ajar on a bare wardrobe.

I stood at the doorframe for eternity, feeling utterly drained, the quaking voice of Claire, Adrian’s pathetic excuses, and some dim person from last night’s resurfacing felt like a surreal touch washed off from my skin.

Deepest regrets came slamming through, and for the next thirty seconds, I found myself cursing in the bathroom,  the shower at maximum heat, I thought, because nothing would really wash the filth off anyway.

Downstairs, starvation hit me like a ton of bricks. I retrieved some eggs and bread and tried to concentrate on the minimal act of cooking against the ensuing chaos of the last forty-eight hours. The phone rang.

Mom.

I thought about letting it go to voicemail when an attack of guilt forced me to pick up the phone. "Hey, Mom."

She bowed her head and, in a voice filled with worry, said, "Cael, darling. Adrian called me. He told me about what happened between you two."

I clutched the phone tighter. "Oh, he did?"

She said, "Listen, relationships are hard. People make mistakes. I just want you to hear him out, give him another chance. You guys have been together so long; you can't just throw it away over one mistake."

"One mistake?" I laughed, bitterly. "He cheated on me. He got someone pregnant. And he blamed her instead of taking responsibility. I ain't interested in patching things up with him right now, Mom. Not now. Not ever."

The sigh spoke of tiredness. "Cael..."

"No, Mom," I bit back. "Do not try to change my mind. I made my mind up: I cannot be with someone like that. Not anymore."

Her silence was heavy for a moment, and then: "All I want is for you to be happy. And if leaving him will make you happy, then I will support you."

The knot that had been choking my chest opened up, and I felt an immense relief. "Thanks."

Then again, the nagging came. "Now, are you planning to miss my wedding too? Because if you think I'm going to let you go hide at home while the rest of us celebrate, you are very much mistaken."

I furrowed my brow. "Mom, your wedding is in a month. You're being dramatic."

"Oh, really? Next month? Is next month the new weekend?” she replied aghast. "Cael, my wedding is this weekend! This Saturday. You don't even know the date?"

Uh-oh. "What? No-I… I thought…"

"Damn right!" she growled. "You never pay attention to family matters. Always hiding behind your work. Do you have any idea how many times I've asked you to come and have lunch with the family? So that you can properly meet Victor? But you never have time. Always too busy being the tortured artist."

I rubbed my temples. "I'm sorry, Mom. I really am. I didn't mean to forget."

"I will accept that apology on the condition you come tonight for family dinner," she said firmly.

I sighed. "Fine. I'll go, promise."

"Good. Finally," she huffed, and then with a little softening of tone, "You will see, darling. Victor makes me happy! After everything I've been through... I deserve this."

I hesitated. "Yeah, I want to meet him. I guess it's hard to accept. You've been through so much, Mom. And I haven't always been there. I know I've used work as an excuse."

Her tone acquired another hint of guilt: "I wasn't good to you. I had you at seventeen, Cael! It was foolish and in love with a man who left me the minute things got hard. Then I went back to him and had Selene two years later. I was still too young, too naïve. You and your sister grew up carrying the burden of my mistakes, and I'll never forgive myself for that."

"Oh, don't," I hurried to interrupt. "You did your best. And it's fine, Mom; really, it’s not your fault but that cumsack called my father. I swear I'm going to be there tomorrow."

Her smile practically transcended the phone. "Thank you, darling. You have no idea how much this means to me."

The call ended, and for the first time in days, a small glimmer of calmness was felt. Maybe a dinner with family would be good for me. Because perhaps, for once, things would start to feel like they were returning to normal again.

But that was what I thought.

I found myself in ironed shirt and by  evening, forcing a smile through clenched jaw as I stepped into the restaurant's private dining hall. My mother was glowing, almost bursting with excitement at the sight of me.

"Cael!" She ran up to me and engulfed me in a warm hug. "You made it."

"Of course, I did," I said, squeezing out a weak smile.

She had turned almost rosy with excitement while pointing at the man next to her. "Darling, this is Victor D'Verre-my husband-to-be."

Victor's handshake spoke of authority. He was tall and broad-shouldered with silver streaks in his dark hair. "Cael. Finally meeting the famous son. Heard so much about you."

I accepted his handshake and nodded politely. "Likewise."

He continued, his face lighting up while waving to the one behind. "This is my younger brother. I wanted you to meet him too."

The second I turned, my stomach twisted.

The guy from last night.

That guy whose name I never got to know.

Stood right before me, equally taken aback.

Lucian.

Victor's brother, my mom's fiancé.

“You?” The words rushed out of my mouth before I could stop them.