HIS CHUBBY STEPDAUGHTER

CHAPTER 021: UNWANTED COMPLIMENTS

MICHELA;

I stepped out of the truck and met Nathan’s eyes. That familiar smirk was already waiting, but something about it felt different today… Softer, almost apologetic.

And honestly, I hadn't seen him this way in a long while. He pushed off his truck and walked toward us, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on me so much he barely greeted Miles.

“What are you doing here?” I folded both arms across my chest.

“Hey, Chela,” he said. His voice was quieter than usual. No nickname. No attitude. Just my name.

I glanced at Miles. His jaw was already tight. He acknowledged Nathan's nonchalant greeting and proceeded to get the bags from the back seat, leaving us to talk.

Nathan’s eyes flicked to Miles, then back to me. “Can we talk? I want to talk… Just for a minute.”

I hesitated. The last time I saw him, he had called me Fat-suh and told me to look up to girls like Jessika. But right now he looked like the boy I used to know… the one who used to make me laugh before the mean words and cruelty started.

Then he stretched his hand, handing me my laptop. I looked at him wide-eyed, eyebrows pulled together.

“I brought this to you,” he said. “I was surprised you didn't notice it was gone… What have you been up to?”

I took the laptop from him. My eyes fixed on him. What have I been up to? I was sure he really didn't want to know that. I couldn't answer the question, I merely scratched a part of my head, his eyes searching mine like he knew something was off.

“I had been… busy,” I answered casually. “Thank you for this.” I raised the laptop a bit already walking away.

“Come on, Chela… You just gonna leave me standing outside?” he asked, tilting his head with that old half-smile that used to work on me.

I didn't want him coming inside the house, I had seen the way Miles had looked at him. But he looked like the friend I knew before now.

I sighed. “Fine. Five minutes.”

Miles’s hand pressed a little firmer against my back when he took the last bag, but he didn’t stop me. I led Nathan inside. Skye lifted her head from her bed in the hallway, ears perked, but stayed put for now. We walked into the kitchen. I pulled out a stool at the island and sat. Nathan sat across from me.

“I was thinking you would come by for the laptop,” Nathan said as I grabbed a bag of chips from the counter and opened it, more for something to do with my hands than because I was hungry. Nathan took a few without asking, just like old times.

“Well…” he started, popping a chip into his mouth. “You’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I have.”

We talked about random things… school, the weather, a dumb video that had been going around. For a little while it almost felt normal, and I moved past the ill feelings I had toward him.

But I could feel Miles moving around the house. He walked into the kitchen twice for no reason, rearranging the fruit bowl, wiping a clean counter, opening and closing the fridge. Every time Nathan spoke, Miles’s shoulders tensed.

Then Nathan’s eyes dropped down to the denim skirt that showed more of my thick thighs than I usually let him see.

“That skirt looks good on you,” he said. His voice was softer than I expected. “I’ve only ever seen you in big clothes and those oversized shorts. You look… cute.”

Across the room, Miles’s jaw flexed hard. His eyes dulled for a second, dark and possessive, before he turned away and started moving a stack of mail that didn’t need moving. Only I seemed to notice. My stomach fluttered at the quiet jealousy rolling off him.

I cleared my throat and reached for my laptop, which was sitting on the far end of the island. I opened it, needing something else to focus on other than Nathan’s unwanted compliments.

The screen lit up. My blog draft should have been the last thing open. Instead, the document was blank.

My heart sank… I remembered Nathan had access to my laptop. There were times we watched movies and worked together on it.

I scrolled. Nothing. The entire body-positive post I had been working on… the one I had written confidently while seated in a corner of the cafe… It was gone.

“Where’s my blog post?” I asked, looking up at Nathan slowly.

“I deleted it.” He shrugged, throwing a chip into his mouth like it was nothing.

“Why?” My voice came out tighter than I wanted.

Nathan leaned back on the stool, that old smirk starting to creep back onto his face.

“Come on, Chela. A body-positive blog? From someone like you? Nobody would believe it. It just would’ve been embarrassing. I was just saving you!”

“Saving me?” From what exactly, Nathan?” I queried. The words had hit harder than I expected.

For a few minutes, he had almost fooled me. The soft voice, the compliments, the nostalgia. But he was still the same Nathan. The same boy who only knew how to cut me down.

“Think of all the trolls that would come from people when you publish that pathetic post… Think, Chela!”

Something inside me snapped.

I grabbed the open bag of chips and threw it hard across the kitchen floor. Chips scattered everywhere.

“You had no right to go through my stuff, let alone delete a thing.” I lunged forward and pushed angrily against his chest. He grabbed my hand at once, so firm that it hurt.

Skye shot up from her bed like a rocket, she hated seeing mummy hurt. She barked loudly and sharply, the deep, protective sound she only used when she decided someone didn’t belong. I had noticed how she acted toward Nathan, almost like she didn’t want him coming around.

She charged straight at Nathan, fur raised, forcing him backward toward the door.

“What the…?! Call your dog off!” Nathan stumbled, letting go of my hand. He nearly tripped over his own feet as Skye herded him out.

I didn’t move. I just watched as Skye pushed him all the way through the living room and out the front door, barking the entire time until the door slammed shut behind him.

I stood there, a hand clasped to my forehead, heart thumping. When and how on earth did Nathan become this person?

The house fell quiet again, broken only by Skye’s satisfied huff as she trotted back inside and sat at my feet.

I stared at the blank laptop screen, my hand still shaking at my side.

“Are you alright?” The voice reached me from the staircase. Miles stood there, fists curling angrily.