Forbidden desire - One night stand with my stepbrother

Ava’s POV The last thing I expected that morning was for my life to fall apart. At the time, my biggest concern was an accounting assignment worth twenty percent of my grade. I had been staring at the same page of notes for so long that the numbers were beginning to blur together. “You’re going to wear a hole through those notes.” I looked up and found Lily standing beside my table with a tray balanced in one hand. “If I fail this course,” I said, dropping my pen into the notebook, “I might as well save myself the embarrassment and drop out now.” Lily lowered herself into the seat opposite me and immediately reached for one of my fries. “Good morning to you too.” The university cafeteria was crowded as usual. Students moved in and out in a steady stream, rushing between lectures while juggling coffee cups, backpacks, and unfinished assignments. Somehow, in the middle of all that chaos, Lily looked completely relaxed. I had been studying since six o’clock that morning. She looked like she had barely been awake for an hour. “You’re the smartest person I know,” she said before stealing another fry. I narrowed my eyes. “And you’re the biggest liar I know.” She grinned. “See? That’s exactly why you’ll pass.” Despite the stress knotting itself between my shoulders, I laughed. That was Lily. She had an annoying talent for making difficult things feel manageable. It didn’t matter whether I was worried about exams, deadlines, or something far more serious. A few minutes with her usually made everything seem less overwhelming. We had been friends since secondary school. Over the years, plenty of people had drifted in and out of our lives, but Lily never did. She was loud, opinionated, stubborn, and fiercely loyal. The kind of friend who would defend you without hesitation and then spend the next hour telling you exactly how you had gotten yourself into trouble. “By the way,” she said casually, “have you finally decided what you’re doing after graduation?” I laughed. “I still have two years left.” “That’s not what I asked.” “And I’m trying to survive this semester before I start planning the rest of my life.” “Ava.” The warning in her voice made me smile. “Fine. I want to become an accountant.” Lily groaned dramatically and leaned back in her chair. “You’re still obsessed with numbers?” “They make sense.” “That is the least exciting answer anyone has ever given.” I shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s true.” The truth was, accounting had always fascinated me. Most people looked at spreadsheets and saw endless frustration. I saw patterns. Solutions. Problems waiting to be solved. There was something satisfying about finding mistakes other people overlooked and making sense of information that seemed impossible to untangle. Numbers rarely lie. People did. My father used to joke that I could probably calculate taxes in my sleep. The memory made me smile. He was the reason I fell in love with accounting in the first place. When I was younger, he often brought financial records home from work and let me sit beside him while he organized everything. Most of it made no sense to me at the time, but that never stopped him from including me. He listened when I spoke. He answered my questions. And somehow, even when I was just a child, he made me feel as though my opinions mattered. “You’re smiling again.” I looked up and found Lily watching me. “What?” “That look on your face.” She pointed directly at me. “You’re thinking about your dad.” I shook my head with a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” “But am I wrong?” No. She wasn’t. Whenever I thought about the future, my father was part of it. He believed in me more than I believed in myself some days, and that made me want to work harder. I wanted to graduate, build a successful career, and give him something to be proud of. Not because he expected it. Because he deserved it. “One day,” I said as I started gathering my books, “I’m going to graduate, get a good job, and make enough money that I never have to worry about bills again.” Lily’s teasing expression softened. “Good.” I glanced up. “You deserve that, Ava.” The sincerity in her voice caught me off guard. Lily joked about almost everything, but when she said something like that, she meant it. And somehow, hearing those words from her mattered more than she probably realized. “Come on,” she said, standing. “You’re going to be late.” I checked the time and immediately shot to my feet. “Oh no.” Lily burst out laughing. “Run, accountant.” “You’re impossible.” “And yet, here we are.” Unfortunately, she had a point. By the time I got home that evening, I was exhausted. The house wasn’t extravagant, but it had always felt like home to me. Dad had always worked hard for everything we owned. Every room, every piece of furniture, every improvement made to the property had come from years of dedication and sacrifice. Nothing had been handed to him. As soon as I stepped through the front door, I heard raised voices coming from the dining room. I stopped. Not again. Lately, arguments between Dad and Victoria had become so common that I could almost predict when they would happen. Quietly, I slipped off my shoes and glanced toward the staircase. Maybe I could make it upstairs before either of them noticed I was home. “How many times do I have to ask?” Victoria’s voice echoed through the house. There went my escape plan. “Victoria,” Dad began. “No.” She cut him off immediately. “No excuses this time.” With a sigh, I walked toward the dining room. Dad was seated at the table looking exhausted. Across from him sat Victoria, my stepmother. She had married my father when I was fourteen. Back then, I had genuinely wanted us to become a family. For a while, things were fine. Then something changed. As the years passed, Victoria became increasingly difficult to satisfy. It didn’t matter how much Dad provided or how hard he worked. The house wasn’t good enough. The vacations weren’t impressive enough. The jewelry he bought her was never expensive enough. There was always something else she wanted. “Ava’s here,” Dad said quietly when he noticed me. Victoria barely looked at me. “Good. Maybe she can explain why everyone else seems to be enjoying life while we’re stuck settling for less.” I frowned. Settling? We lived comfortably. Dad rubbed his forehead. “Victoria, we’ve already discussed this.” “No. You’ve avoided discussing it.” Her palm struck the table. “A new car isn’t necessary.” I stared. A car? This was about a car? Again? “My friends drive luxury cars.” Something hardened in Dad’s expression. “We are not your friends.” The silence that followed felt uncomfortable. Victoria stood. “Maybe that’s the problem.” The hurt on Dad’s face made my chest tighten. This wasn’t really about a car. It was something deeper than that. Victoria grabbed her handbag. “I’m going out.” “It’s getting late,” Dad said. “I don’t care.” Without another word, she left. The front door slammed behind her. The silence that followed felt even worse than the argument. I sat across from Dad. Eventually, he sighed. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” “You shouldn’t have to come home to this.” “It’s okay.” “No, it isn’t.” A sad smile touched his face. “It really isn’t.” For a moment, he looked older than I remembered. “Dad.” “I’m fine.” The answer came too quickly. Then he smiled. “How was school?” I knew he was changing the subject, but I let him. I told him about classes, assignments, difficult lecturers, and upcoming exams. By the time I finished, some of the tension had eased from his face. “Accounting, huh?” A genuine smile appeared. “You still love it.” “I do.” “Good.” Then his expression softened. “Finish your degree, Ava.” I blinked. “What?” “No matter what happens, finish school.” The seriousness in his voice caught me off guard. “Dad—” “I’m serious.” He leaned forward slightly. “Promise me.” I laughed nervously. “Why are you talking like you’re dying?” For a second, neither of us moved. Then he smiled. “I’m not dying.” “Good.” But even after he said it, something about the conversation unsettled me. Later that night, I was lying on my bed scrolling through messages when my phone rang. Lily. “What do you want?” Her dramatic gasp made me smile. For the next twenty minutes, we talked about everything and nothing. Then headlights swept across my bedroom wall. I glanced toward the window. A car had stopped outside. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Then I saw Victoria step out. My smile faded. She wasn’t alone. A black sedan sat in front of our gate. A man stepped out from the driver’s side and walked toward her. The porch light didn’t reach far enough for me to see his face clearly, but I could tell they weren’t standing like strangers. There was familiarity between them. Comfort. Victoria smiled at him. Not the polite smile she used around neighbors. Not the forced smile she used around Dad. This smile was different. Warmer. More intimate. My grip tightened around the phone. “Ava?” Lily called. I barely heard her. Outside, the man reached for Victoria’s hand. She let him. A strange feeling settled in my stomach. Then Victoria glanced toward the house. Panic flashed across her face. She stepped away immediately. The smile disappeared. Moments later, the man climbed back into his car and drove away. I remained at the window long after the taillights vanished. Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe I was imagining things. But as I watched Victoria hurry into the house, one thought refused to leave me. What if my father wasn’t the only man in her life?