In Love With My Foster Stepbrother

Tessa's POV "You're really going back?" Elowen's voice came through the phone with such excitement that I had to pull it away from my ear. Even distance couldn't contain her energy. "Yes, and you're going to make me deaf before I'm thirty," I said, but I was smiling despite myself. "So you're finally ready to face him?" Her tone shifted from excitement to something softer. Something that felt too knowing. I hesitated. The truth was, I didn't know if I'd ever be ready. Two years of distance, a new city, new friends, a whole new life, and it hadn't made me ready to face Hardin Cole. But I didn't have a choice anymore. "Can we talk later, Elowen? I need to pack." "Promise you'll tell me everything?" "I promise." I hung up and set my phone on the bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror across from me. At twenty years old, I looked exactly the same as I had at eighteen. Same brown eyes behind glasses. Same long wavy hair. Same tendency to underestimate myself. It's been two years since I last saw Hardin. Two years since I ran to Paris to escape the humiliation of my own confession—my own desperate need for someone who would never want me back the way I wanted him. Hardin Cole was the son of my parents' closest friends. The handsome older boy I had admired from afar for as long as I could remember. When my world fell apart, when my father drowned himself in alcohol, and my mother chased a new life that had no room for me in it. It was his mother, Margaret, who opened her door. She received like I was her daughter. I moved into their home at sixteen. Hardin was already twenty-four, already running his life, already the kind of man who took up every room he walked into. He hadn't asked for a girl with a broken family and too many feelings to suddenly be sharing his space. But he never made me feel like a burden either. He just... took care of me. Quietly. Consistently. In that unbothered way of his that made it so easy to fall in love with him. And I did. Somewhere between the first Christmas and the day I turned eighteen, I fell completely, stupidly in love with him. I got out of bed and motioned toward my wardrobe, pulling out my suitcase with hands that were already trembling. I'd been told Margaret's health had taken a turn. That she'd been asking for me. I couldn't say no to that, not to the woman who had given me a home when I had none. Not certainly to the woman who became my adopted mother when my own mother and father deserted me. Telling me they regretted giving birth to me. My eyes locked on the mirror as I stuffed clothes into the bag. I could feel my heart racing faster with each piece of fabric I threw inside. I stopped for a moment, biting my lips in a thin line. "It's time to go home, Tessa," I said beneath a whisper. Two years ago, on my eighteenth birthday, I couldn't hide my feelings anymore. With Elowen's encouragement, terrible, well-meaning encouragement, I'd staged a confession. I'd dressed up. I'd gathered every ounce of courage I possessed. And I'd told Hardin the truth: I was in love with him. He'd looked at me with those cold, grey-blue eyes and said slowly: "Tessa, don't get any of those thoughts. That's not something I can give you." The rejection had been instant, final, and devastating. A week later, he'd arranged for me to study in Paris. He'd framed it as an opportunity, a chance to see the world and get a prestigious education. But I knew the truth: he was sending me away because my feelings made him uncomfortable. Apparently, since the death of his father, he has been the main decision maker of the family. And whatever he says gets done. Even Magareth, his mother, could barely undo his words. After all, he was the only son and heir of his parents. I'd left New York at eighteen, determined to get over him. For two years, I'd built a new life. Made new friends. Even dated someone—Jace, who made me laugh and helped me pretend I'd moved on. But I never stopped wearing the necklace Hardin gave me when I was sixteen. I never deleted our old photos. And I never quite managed to stop loving him. I packed my shoes and the rest of my makeup, surveying the room for the last time before pulling my bag along. "You can do this, Tessa," I said one last time, shutting the door behind me. Off to the airport. Off to face him. "Tighten your seatbelt. We are about to take off..." the announcement came, fading away while I watched the ground getting distant from where I was sitting beside the window. I shut my eyes, throwing my head back while the plane took off. But I couldn't keep my eyes shut for long. I kept seeing his face. His cold expression. His controlled tone. The way he'd said "That's not something I can give you" like it cost him nothing at all. "That scumbag!" I hissed, almost screaming, before faking a smile at the passengers on the plane. Each of them stared at me, clearly hoping I hadn't gone completely insane. "Ma'am, please keep it quiet," the air hostess corrected. Memories of Hardin's steady gaze kept running through my mind. How he had looked at me that day, on my birthday, so composed. So cold. "That son of a gun," I heaved a sigh, frustrated. Reaching out to my smartwatch, I hesitated for a second. Should I tell him I was on my way? Did he even care? Shrugging, I whispered, "Whatever," and clicked the button to send him a message: I'm on the plane. Landing in a few hours. Relaxing back into my chair, my phone chimed almost immediately. Only to see that Hardin had replied with just a brief word: [Hardin: Ok.] "Okay?" I spoke with gritted teeth, seething angrily. "Even after two years, he's still distancing himself? Just okay? Hardin, you f*****g—" "Ma'am?" the air hostess called my attention again, and this time around, I had no option but to go silent. I bit my nails softly. Well, I do that whenever I'm nervous about something or after what feels like a rejection. And this—this felt like rejection all over again. I swallowed hard, staring at my smartwatch, hoping he would say anything else. Anything to show me that maybe, just maybe, he'd missed me too. But there was nothing. Not a single text from him after the brief "Ok." I was about to doze off when I felt a buzz. I reached for my phone happily, hoping that Hardin had changed his mind. But to my greatest surprise, it was no other person than my ex, Jace. [Jace: Tessa, can you please give me one more chance? I love you. Please.] I scoffed in total disbelief and blocked him immediately.