Love and Disobey

The first time I realized that moving into my new home might have been a terrible mistake, I was standing outside a bedroom that wasn't supposed to be occupied, listening to my stepbrother argue with someone about a secret that could destroy both our families. I had only meant to return a book I had borrowed from the study, but the moment I heard my mother's name, my feet refused to move. Emirau's voice was low and tense, nothing like the playful tone he used whenever he wanted to irritate me. “She doesn't know anything, and I intend to keep it that way,” he said. A second voice answered, too muffled for me to recognize, before Emirau replied with words that made my stomach tighten. “If Evelyn finds out what happened twenty years ago, everything changes.” I stepped backward, my fingers tightening around the book, but the floor creaked beneath my feet. The voices stopped immediately. A moment later, the bedroom door began to open, and I knew that whatever waited on the other side would change my life forever. Three weeks earlier, I would never have imagined myself standing outside my stepbrother's bedroom, afraid of what he might discover I had overheard. Back then, my greatest concern had been adjusting to Westbridge University and learning how to live in the enormous house my mother now shared with her new husband. Mom had spent years raising me alone, working hard to give me a comfortable life despite our financial struggles, so when she announced that she was marrying Richard Hayes, a successful businessman who treated her with genuine affection, I had been happy for her. I wanted her to experience the happiness she deserved, even if it meant leaving behind the little apartment where we had lived for most of my childhood. Richard welcomed me warmly into his home, gave me a room of my own, and promised that I would never have to feel like an outsider. Unfortunately, his son, Emirau Hayes, seemed determined to make that promise difficult to believe. At twenty-two, Emirau was handsome, wealthy, confident, and famous for getting whatever he wanted. He attended Westbridge University, where students admired him, girls competed for his attention, and even his lecturers appeared to tolerate his occasional arrogance. He had everything I had never possessed, yet he behaved as though the world owed him more. From our first meeting, we had managed to turn even the smallest conversation into an argument, and I had quickly decided that keeping my distance was the only sensible way to survive our new family arrangement. My first Monday at Westbridge began with a missing lecture hall, a broken phone charger, and the humiliating discovery that I had entered the wrong classroom fifteen minutes before a test. By the time I found my actual class, I was sweating beneath my blouse and wishing I could disappear. Fortunately, a girl named Tessa noticed my confusion and helped me find an empty seat beside her. She was friendly, talkative, and refreshingly unconcerned about my unfamiliarity with the university, and by lunchtime, I was beginning to believe that making friends might be easier than I had feared. That confidence disappeared when she led me into the cafeteria and pointed toward a crowded table near the windows. “That's Emirau with his friends,” she explained, following my gaze. “He's practically royalty around here, although most people pretend they hate him because he never takes anyone seriously.” I nearly dropped my fork. “Please don't tell me you're going to spend the whole semester talking about him.” Tessa laughed, but before she could answer, a pretty girl with long blonde hair stopped beside our table and looked me over as if I were something unpleasant she had found on her shoe. “You're Evelyn, aren't you? Emirau's new stepsister?” she asked. When I confirmed it, she gave me a thin smile and warned me not to confuse living in his house with having any special place in his life. I was so surprised by her hostility that I struggled to respond, but Tessa quickly told her to mind her own business. The girl walked away with a dismissive laugh, leaving me with an uncomfortable question: how had my family become public property before I had even completed my first week? Tessa tried to lighten the mood by telling me about Emirau's upcoming birthday party, which apparently had become the most anticipated event on campus. She insisted that I should attend with her, claiming it would help me meet people and become more comfortable around my new classmates. I refused immediately. I had no interest in parties, and the thought of spending an evening surrounded by girls who seemed determined to claim ownership of my stepbrother was exhausting. Tessa accused me of being unnecessarily stubborn, but I reminded her that Emirau and I barely managed to tolerate each other at home. I didn't want our relationship to become another reason for people to gossip. As if my words had summoned him, Emirau looked across the cafeteria and caught me staring in his direction. His expression softened into a faint smile, and for one embarrassing second, I forgot what I had been saying. I quickly looked away, annoyed with myself for reacting to him at all. He was attractive; I wasn't blind. But attraction was not an invitation, and he was now part of my family. I had no intention of allowing a moment of foolish curiosity to complicate my life. I finished my lunch quickly and left the cafeteria, hoping that a little distance would help me forget the strange warmth that had settled in my chest. “Evelyn, wait.” Emirau caught up with me outside the library, his hands tucked casually into his pockets as though he had all afternoon to waste. I kept walking, pretending not to hear him until he called my name again. Irritated, I turned around and asked what he wanted. He looked amused by my reaction, but his smile faded when I told him that I was busy. “You've been avoiding me since you moved in,” he observed. “Should I be offended, or is this your normal way of welcoming family?” I reminded him that we had never been close enough to need a special welcome, and he raised an eyebrow as though he found my answer entertaining. Then he asked why I seemed so determined to keep him at a distance. I explained that people were already talking about us, and I didn't want to become the subject of rumours simply because we lived under the same roof. His expression changed. “Let them talk. People will always find something to say, whether you give them a reason or not.” I told him that it was easy to dismiss gossip when everyone already knew his name, but I had worked too hard to build my own future to let someone else's reputation define me. For once, he didn't interrupt. Instead, he admitted that he understood how difficult the changes had been for me and that he hadn't expected us to become friends overnight. He only wanted us to stop behaving like strangers. His unexpected sincerity left me unsure how to respond, but before I could speak, he warned me to be careful about the people who approached me at university. Someone had been asking questions about my mother and Richard's marriage, he explained, and he suspected the interest was not innocent. I asked whether he knew who was responsible, but he shook his head and told me not to worry until he understood what was happening. Then he walked away, leaving me wondering why a man who claimed not to care what people thought had suddenly become so concerned about my safety. That evening, Mom was preparing dinner when I returned home, and she immediately noticed that something was troubling me. I told her about the university and my new friend, but I left out the conversation with Emirau because I didn't want to spoil her happiness. She had changed so much since marrying Richard; the tiredness that used to shadow her face had eased, and she laughed more freely than I could remember. I wanted her new life to succeed, even if I still felt like a visitor in the house. When Emirau joined us in the kitchen, Mom asked whether we were getting along, and he answered before I could speak. “We're making progress. She only threatens to kill me twice a day now.” I glared at him while Mom laughed and reminded us that she expected us to treat each other with respect. Dinner was surprisingly pleasant, although Emirau occasionally teased me until I threatened to move to another table. Later, when I went upstairs, he followed me into the hallway and asked me to wait for him after my last lecture the next day. I refused, explaining that I could find my own way home, but his expression became serious. He told me that someone had been asking about my mother, including questions about where she had lived before meeting Richard. When I demanded to know why that mattered, he hesitated before admitting that the person asking questions had mentioned an event from twenty years earlier. My heart began to beat faster. I had never heard of any family secret, and my mother had never suggested that anything in her past needed to be hidden. Emirau promised he would explain when he knew more, but he made me promise not to walk home alone until then. Against my better judgment, I agreed. The following afternoon, I returned home early because my last lecture had been cancelled, and I found the house unusually quiet. Richard's car was missing, Mom hadn't returned from her appointment, and Emirau's shoes were beside the staircase. I was about to go upstairs when I heard his voice coming from a bedroom at the end of the hallway. I recognized the room as his and nearly continued walking, but then he mentioned my mother's name. I stopped outside the door, telling myself I only wanted to understand why strangers were suddenly interested in my family. The conversation grew tense as the unseen person accused Emirau of hiding the truth. He replied that I had done nothing wrong and deserved to be left out of whatever had happened before I was born. Then he said something that made the book slip from my fingers. “If Evelyn discovers who her real father is, Richard will lose everything.” My breath caught in my throat. My real father? I had grown up believing that my father had died when I was too young to remember him, and Mom had always refused to discuss him in detail. I had never questioned her explanation because I trusted her completely. Now, standing outside Emirau's bedroom, I wondered whether the story I had believed all my life was nothing more than a carefully constructed lie. The floor creaked beneath my feet, and the conversation stopped. I bent to retrieve the book, but before I could straighten, Emirau opened the door. His face changed the moment he saw me, and for the first time since we had met, he looked genuinely frightened. Behind him stood a middle-aged man I had never seen before, holding an old photograph in one hand. The man stared at me as though he had seen a ghost, while Emirau moved quickly to block my view of the picture. I looked from one face to the other, my heart pounding as the truth began to take shape in my mind. “Who is my real father?” I demanded. Emirau opened his mouth, but the stranger spoke first. “Your mother never told you?” He looked at Emirau, then back at me, and his next words shattered the little certainty I had left. “Your father isn't dead, Evelyn. He's been looking for you for twenty years.”