Secretly In Love With My Stepson To Be

Sera's pov The soft kiss on my forehead should have felt like a promise. Instead, it felt like a question mark. “Sara, I can’t wait for you to know my family so well,” Andrew whispered, his lips still close to my skin. I took a deep breath and looked at him. Andrew. A good man. A kind man. A man who was thirty-four years older than me. In the two years we had been together, that number had never felt so heavy. I smiled, but my mind was already spinning with worry. What will they think of me? The question had been my shadow for months. It first appeared when my best friend, Isla, and I had that terrible fight. Her words still stung. “Sara, be real,” she had said, her voice sharp. “People are going to talk. They’re going to say you’re only with him for his money.” I had yelled at her, told her she didn’t understand our love. But later, alone in my apartment, her words echoed in the silence. They followed me home when I visited my parents. My mother’s face had fallen when I told her Andrew was serious about marriage. She didn’t shout. She just asked one question, softly, as if she was afraid of the answer. “Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with a man who is older than your father and me?” My father had just stared at his hands. I told them yes. I told them I loved him. I told them age was just a number. And I believed it. I still did. But convincing my family was one thing. Convincing the rest of the world, and sometimes even myself, was another battle entirely. And today was the biggest battle yet. Today, I was finally meeting his family. His two children. His world. The drive to his house took about thirty minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. My heart was a drum against my ribs. Through the car window, the city faded away and turned into large, green lawns. Then, we passed through huge iron gates and drove up a long, curving road. When the car stopped in front of the biggest house I had ever seen, my mouth went dry. A line of people in neat uniforms stood waiting by the front door. Before I could even process it, my car door was opened by a smiling man. “Welcome home, Miss Sara,” he said. Another woman in a uniform bowed her head. “We are so happy to meet you, Miss Sara.” I was shocked. They all knew my name. Andrew leaned over from his side of the car. “They are my workers, Sara. They’ve been looking forward to meeting you for weeks.” It was a strange feeling. Being welcomed so warmly by strangers, while my stomach was a knot of pure anxiety. Before I could step away from the car, a woman about my age came running out of the huge front door. “Daddy!” she squealed, throwing her arms around Andrew. She was beautiful. Bubbly. Full of life. Just by looking at her, I knew. This was Rebecca. Andrew had told me all about his twins. She let go of her father and turned to me. Her smile was so bright. I extended my hand, a little nervously. “Hi, I’m Sara.” She looked at my hand, then laughed. It was a warm, kind laugh. Instead of shaking it, she pulled me into a tight hug. “So you’re the woman who has made my father so happy all year!” she exclaimed, squeezing me. Her words melted a little of the ice in my chest. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe my fears were all in my head. We all walked into the mansion together. The entrance hall was so grand it could have been a hotel lobby. Rebecca guided me to a large, comfortable sofa. As I sat down, a familiar scent drifted into the air. It was subtle, but it hit me with the force of a wave. It was a cologne. My mind didn’t just remember the smell. It remembered everything. It took me back four months before I ever met Andrew. To a night I had tried so hard to forget, and even harder to find again. It was at a friend’s engagement party in the city. I had gone alone, feeling a little lost in the crowd of happy couples. And then I saw him. He was standing by the bar, looking just as out of place as I felt. He was tall, with kind eyes and a smile that was a little bit shy. We started talking, and it was easy. So easy. Like we had known each other for years. We talked for hours. About everything and nothing. About our dreams, our fears, our favorite songs. The connection was instant. It was electric. When the party ended, neither of us wanted to say goodbye. So we didn’t. We went back to his hotel room. It was a beautiful night. A perfect night. The most incredible night of my life. In the morning, I woke up and he was gone. Just a note on the pillow. ‘Had an early flight. Last night was perfect. I hope we meet again.’ No name. No number. Nothing. I spent months looking for him. Scanning crowds, hoping to see his face. He was my ‘what if’. My one that got away. And now, sitting in Andrew’s mansion, his cologne was in the air. My heart stopped. It couldn’t be. It was just a coincidence. A similar scent. “Hello, Father.” The voice came from behind me. A voice that had whispered sweet things in my ear under the moonlight. A voice I had replayed in my head a thousand times. I turned. And there he was. He wasn’t a ghost from my memory. He was real. He was standing right there. Older than I remembered, maybe by a few months, but it was him. Those same kind eyes. That same shy smile. He was looking at Andrew, his father. His father. The world tilted. The room spun. Rebecca was saying something, but her voice sounded far away. Mike. He wasn’t just some guy I had a one-night stand with. He was Mike. Rebecca’s twin brother. Andrew’s son. The stepson I was about to have. The man I had been dreaming of for months… was my fiancé’s son. He turned his gaze from his father, and his eyes landed on me. For a second, there was nothing. Just polite curiosity. Then, a flicker of recognition. His smile froze. His eyes widened, just a little. I saw the exact moment it hit him. He knew. He remembered. The room was filled with people. Rebecca was happily introducing us. “Mike, this is Sara! The one Dad won’t stop talking about!” But Mike and I just stared at each other. The air between us was thick with the memory of that night. The scent of his cologne, the feel of his hands, the sound of his laugh. All of it crashed over me at once. All my worries about Andrew’s family liking me, about being seen as a gold digger—they vanished. They were replaced by one, single, terrifying thought that pounded in my head. What comes next?