I DON'T FUCK STEP-BROTHERS (3)

TALI.

The restaurant my mother chose is, of course, absurdly expensive.

I show up fifteen minutes late wearing a black dress that's too nice for a family dinner, my hair still damp from the shower. I'm hungover and sore in places that remind me of last night, and I really, really don't want to be here.

The hostess leads me to a private room in the back where I can already hear my mother's laugh. That high, performative laugh she does when she wants everyone to think she's delightful.

I push open the door and—

Time stops.

Sitting across from my mother, next to a man who must be her new husband, is Cain.

No. Not Cain.

But it's definitely him. Same dark hair. Same sharp jawline. Same eyes that are currently locked on mine with an expression I can't read.

"Tali!" My mother jumps up, rushing over to hug me. "You're late. Come meet everyone!"

I can't move. Can't breathe. Can't process what I'm seeing.

"This is Richard," she says, gesturing to the older man who's standing now, smiling warmly