Real Step Mom Novels & Stories

Before I could answer, Mom bustled up behind me—wiping her hands again, beaming like she’d won the lottery. “Richard! Right on time. Come in, come in.” She ushered him inside—hand on his elbow—then turned to me with that matchmaker gleam in her eye. “Rae, this is Richard. Richard, my daughter Rae. She’s single, you know—beautiful, smart, studying psychology. Richard’s a financial consultant. Very successful. And single too.” Richard extended his hand—fingers manicured, grip too firm, too long. “Pleasure to meet you, Rae. Your mom’s told me so much about you.”

“Delete that.” Evans grinned. “Too late. It’s live.” Dinner was a five star rated disaster in slow motion. Finn called Dad “sir boss man” three times while trying to talk to him.. He tried to impress Mom with fake knowledge of real estate. “I love properties. Especially the ones with… roofs. And doors. Doors are important.” Mom loved him anyway. “He’s so refreshing!”

Really. "Could you not call Papa my "new husband" ?" She asked in response. Crck. We stared sternly at each other before Mom sighed, with finality in her voice she said, "I'm... not going to do this with you today okay? We're starting a new chapter in our lives. Let's try to make the most of it okay? I'm going to check out the salon." Mom is a licensed cosmetologist, thanks to step-Father-san she was able to procure and design a salon nearby our neighborhood without worrying too much. That's probably the only thing I was sincerely happy for her, for.

Timothy tried to calm her down while agreeing, "Seriously, Elliot's being ridiculous. He's not a kid anymore, still playing hide and seek like this. Doesn't he realize how exhausted everyone is?" The tone in the livestream chat started to shift. [This kid is so ungrateful. His mom went through all this trouble to teach him, and he's throwing a tantrum?] [Exactly. He's overdoing it. It's just a show. Why go missing like this?] [I feel bad for Ms. Lawson. Being a mom is so hard.] I looked at those comments. Felt nothing. That shoe fell off while I was struggling in the air. Not far from it, my body lay quietly among the rocks, already cold.

I managed to dodge, but a few drops of milk still splashed onto my face. Megan looked triumphant, shouting, “Lexie, I haven’t even started with you for last time! You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Let me teach you a lesson on behalf of your cheap, dead mother!” I glanced towards the doorway, then started crying out, “Dad, I’m your own daughter! Megan isn’t even officially part of the family yet, and she’s already treating me like this. What will people think?” My dad walked in right then, putting on an act as if he was scolding Megan.

"You're nothing but a parasite that fed off this family and then turned around and poisoned it!" The guests, who had been simmering with outrage moments earlier, began to waver and murmur among themselves once more. Dad raised a hand and signaled for the guards to let Mom go. "Faked? Then what about this?" The screen lit up again. This time it was Mom, sitting in a home office, patiently coaching a much younger version of me on how to lie over the phone and how to squeeze out tears on command so Dad would send money. In the video, my small hands fumbled with the phone while I looked up at her, confused and scared.

"You made your choice. I made mine." "You can't be serious. This is—this is incest or something!" "Hardly. You're not his biological son. There's no blood relation between us whatsoever." I smiled sweetly. "Which makes this perfectly acceptable. Unconventional, perhaps. But perfectly legal." Caleb looked like he might vomit. "So," I continued, "as I was saying. You should call me Mom. Or Mother, if you prefer something more formal. I'm not picky." "I will never call you that." His voice shook with rage. "Never. Do you hear me? You're nothing. A nobody from a worthless pack. You think marrying my father changes anything?"

During a holiday, when I told my mother that my boyfriend would be coming to my house, her expression darkened. Tears welled up in her eyes as she touched my face and said in a hoarse voice, “Oh my God... Thank God you’re still alive. “Do you remember what day this is? This time, I’m not letting you die.” She acted as if she were possessed and screamed at me hysterically, “He’s a serial killer! We’ll all die if he comes today. Last time around, I was the only one left!” I believed her. I broke up with him and called the police to have him arrested. I let out a sigh of relief as I watched him get taken away, and my mother revealed a triumphant smile. She then said calmly, “That’s that.

Just the same bolded subject line staring back at me. A firm knock on my door pulled me out of my thoughts, sharp and insistent. “Come in,” I said flatly, my voice already edged with exhaustion and resentment. I didn’t bother getting up or fixing my messy bedhead. Mom stepped inside, her expression more determined this time, jaw set in a way that made my stomach drop. She didn’t sit on the bed like she usually would during our talks. No attempt at softening the blow with a hug or a hand on my shoulder. She stood near the door, arms crossed tightly over her chest, like she was steeling herself for battle.

She fixed Celena with a frosty stare and snapped, "What's that supposed to mean, Celena? Are the rumors true? Have you grown too big for your britches, setting up your shop and now you think you're too good for your kin? "I know deep down you've never seen me as your mom," Her voice tinged with resignation. "I'm just the stepmom, and maybe I shouldn't speak up too much. However, think about it, how have you been treating me? And Qemal, he's your flesh and blood, right? Are you going to ignore your brother like this?"