I Loved My Foster Brother, So I Fled

Chapter 2

The moment these words slipped past my lips, his face morphed into a mess of unreadable emotions.

Just as I'd expected.

My feelings were a dirty secret—too shameful to let the world know.

Several agonizing seconds of silence stretched between us before I forced myself to break it, keeping my voice low. "He was there for me when I got kicked out. He took care of me. I loved him like a brother. Being with him was amazing, but... he was never going to be my forever."

My words were faint, soft enough to be carried off by the breeze, but he was standing right in front of me. He didn't miss a single syllable.

Jonah was five years older than me. Ever since he graduated and went abroad for his studies, I lost whatever scrap of value I had left in that household.

He was gone on my eighteenth birthday—absent during the exact time in my life when I needed him the most.

"Let's go home," he said after a beat, a visible wave of relief washing over his features.

Meanwhile, my heart sank straight into my stomach.

"No," I said.

All night, I, the girl who used to obey his every word, had done nothing but build walls between us. I knew Jonah well. Even his saintly patience was running thin.

Swallowing the bitter lump in my throat, I reminded myself that it was time to finish my shift.

"If that's all, I have to get back to work."

I stood there and watched him climb into a luxury car, the one that looked completely out of place parked outside a grimy 24-hour convenience store. Only after his taillights disappeared down the road did I step back inside.

Aaron immediately leaned over the counter, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Is that really your brother? How come you've never mentioned him?"

"He isn't."

"Oh, so he's actually your lover, huh?"

"No," I shut him down again.

My rejections only fueled his interest. "Then what is he to you?"

My heart slammed violently against my ribs, but I kept my face deadpan.

"He's the son of my adopted father."