All Chapters of Dealing With The Other Brother.: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

~Sara~It has been three months since the break up with Jason. Three. Long. Dragging months and yet, his face and that of the Jezelbelic witch of the west of a fiancee has refused to fade.Their engagement photos hunts me on the front pages of newspapers, their relationship gossips makes blogs headlines on the internet. Their couple goals and interviews airs on TV screens in airport lounges and stores.Even the radio! The radio of all things sings their names like a cursed lullaby the universe insists I hear.Everywhere I look, Everywhere I turn. They were there.Happy. Golden. Hunting.While I, the miserable Ex, locks myself in my apartment. My curtains drawn, buried in work that I barely remember how the sun looks like.Right now, I hunch over a mountain of client documents, communicating with my agency manager, Sandra, who talks to me via a video call on my laptop screen.“You are taking a break, Sara,” she suddenly declares and I blink, my brows narrowing,“What?”“You are overw

~SARA~"Attention all returning passengers…” the calm, practiced voice of the female speaker filters through the mic of the airport as I shuffle through the crowd, navigating my way in, “Please make your way to the arrivals gate. Follow the signs to baggage claim and customs and have your passport and travel documents ready to clear immigration,”“Welcome to New York!” She beams and my heart pangs. New York.The city of broken promises.The place where Jason had shattered my heart and walked away without looking back.I swallow and quicken my paces, dragging my bag along the polished tiles when my eyes drifts to a man sitting nearby, casually flipping through a magazine. I glance at the cover, anger grinding through my bones as I scowl at the couple captured on it, smiling like they had just discovered the universe.Jason and Mira.“Why do you guys have to be everywhere?” I mutter, letting out a deep grunt. Thirty minutes later, I complete check-out and step outside. The cool bree

~SARA~A throbbing pain shoots through my brain as I stir from the bed and open my eyes to the sun rays simmering in the room.It has been 12 hours since attending the engagement party. 12 hours since the Fords and Denvers dirty linen were washed in public. 12 hours since the mad man, Alex, had assaulted my mouth with those wicked lips of his.Lips so wicked that they tasted sinfully ravishing.Just then, a bang comes on the door and I let out a deep grunt, pushing the duvet aside.Bang! Bang! Bang!It comes again and I yell across the passage, slipping on my dunlops.“Am coming!”I slip myself out of the room and head to the sitting room where the bang was coming from, pushing the door knob open and Sandra walks in, fuming. She wears a pair of grey sweat pants and shirt with sneakers, her hair tied in a messy bun. Her face is devoid of make up and sweat forms around the parts of her shirt covering her pits.The entire ensemble answers my thoughts on where she had been since morni

~ALEX~ Steam clings to my body as I step out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped low around my hips. Water drops down my chest, slow and deliberate, disappearing at my waist. I run a hand over my hair as I walk to the table and pour myself a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid splashes into the glass . I don't bother with ice. I drink it in one go. It burns going down, and I welcome it. The burn clears my head. It shuts things up. For a second. Then my mind drifts back to the hospital. To her. I exhale sharply and rake a hand over my damp hair. Damn it. Annoying Sara. Ever since the hospital, she's been there. In my head. Uninvited. Persistent. I thought she was a bore when we met at the pool. The kind that had nothing going on in her life and lived off frustrating people. She held a bitterness then, a resentment that told she was angry with the world and I had written her off as a frustrated bitter soul. Even at the party, finding out she dated Jason made me rega

~SARA~She sits across from me, and it feels like a silent standoff.We’re just staring at each other, neither of us speaking, like we’re both trying to size the other up.She looks calm. Too calm. Like she is used to situations like this.She is dressed in expensive clothes. Not flashy, just obviously costly. Her jewelry is simple but unmistakably real. Then there’s her bag. I recognize it immediately.It’s the latest edition from a popular designer brand. Only two were made.One belongs to Mrs. Ford.The other to the First Lady.That alone makes my stomach tighten.She watches me closely, and the longer she looks, the more uncomfortable I feel. The room suddenly feels hot even though the air conditioner is running.My hands start to shake, so I lock my fingers together and press them tight.I clear my throat and smile.“What would you like me to offer you, ma’am?” I ask, my voice a throaty whisper.She chuckles, "What would you have that I don't have already.”The smile dissolves f