FORBIDDEN LOVE

1. STEPHANIE'S GETTING MARRIED

Monday mornings were universally despised, signalling the beginning of another long and tedious week filled with obligations, responsibilities, and the monotonous routines of life that seemed determined to drain all joy from existence. For Dom, however, Mondays were more than just unpleasant; they were dreadful. They were a harsh reminder that the brief escape the weekend had offered was over. The weekend had been his sanctuary, a temporary refuge from the realities of his life, allowing him to surround himself with friends, laugh without restraint, and for a short while forget the burdens he carried. But good things never lasted. They never did. The happiness of those two days vanished as quickly as it had come, dissolving like smoke in the wind and leaving behind nothing but the cold, unchanging reality that awaited him. The happiness had been temporary, and now Monday stood before him once again, forcing him to confront everything he had spent the weekend trying so desperately to escape.

The truth, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, remained unchanged. The weekend had given him an escape, but it hadn't changed his family situation. If anything, returning to his everyday life only made him more aware of the cracks that ran through his home. He had found comfort in being away, in losing himself in distractions, in spending time with people who didn't remind him of the emptiness that seemed to linger within the walls of his house. But distractions can only do so much. Eventually, reality always found its way back to him, and more often than not, that reality centred around his father.

His father, whom he loved more than words could ever express, was also the source of some of his deepest pain.

It was a contradiction he had never been able to understand. No matter how much he admired the man, no matter how badly he wanted to be proud of him, there was always something that tainted that admiration and left him feeling discarded. It wasn't the arguments. It wasn't harsh words or cruel punishments. Those things, at least, could have been forgiven. What hurt most was the silence. The indifference. The way his father could make him feel invisible even when he was standing right in front of him.

There was no pain quite like being ignored by someone you loved, no agony as sharp as longing for attention that never came. It was a wound that never truly healed, an ache that settled deep within his chest and refused to leave. It was the kind of pain that did more than hurt—it changed you. It chipped away at your soul piece by piece until you barely recognised the person you had once been. Dom had long since stopped pretending it didn't matter.

Because it did.

It always did.

No matter how much he tried to suppress it, no matter how many times he told himself that he didn't need his father's approval, the truth remained the same. He wanted it. He longed for it. He wished, desperately, that one day his father would look at him and truly see him. That he would acknowledge him, embrace him, and love him the way a father was supposed to love his son. But no matter how much Dom wished for it, his father remained oblivious, consumed by his own world, his responsibilities, and priorities that never seemed to leave room for his family.

Duty.

That was all his father ever talked about.

The obligations that came with being a state governor. The sacrifices that had to be made. The people who depended on him.

But what about the people at home?

What about his wife?

What about his son?

What about the child who had spent years waiting for him to show up, to care, to simply be there?

It seemed that somewhere along the way, being a governor had become more important than being a husband or a father. And perhaps the cruellest part of it all was that Dom had no choice but to accept it. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how desperately he wished things were different, some things simply never changed.

And that crushing realisation was one of the many reasons he hated Monday mornings.

His thoughts drifted back to his childhood, to those afternoons when school ended and his friends waited excitedly for their fathers to arrive. He remembered the laughter, the excitement, and the endless conversations about the plans they had waiting for them at home.

But his father never came.

Not once.

He never stood outside the school gates waiting for him. He never ruffled Dom's hair affectionately or wrapped an arm around his shoulders while asking about his day.

When his friends spoke about weekends spent with their families, about road trips filled with music and laughter, about game nights where fathers and sons competed against one another, Dom could only listen in silence. He listened while a familiar ache settled inside his chest, wishing—just once—that his father would choose him.

That he would look at his schedule and decide that, for one day, his son mattered more.

That he would take him somewhere.

Anywhere.

Just the two of them.

But that wish had long since withered away, buried beneath years of disappointment, broken promises, and expectations that had never been fulfilled.

Sometimes, Dom found himself wishing he had siblings. Someone who understood exactly how he felt without him having to explain it. Someone who could sit beside him in comfortable silence and remind him that he wasn't completely alone in the world. There were days when the loneliness felt so heavy that he imagined what it would be like to have a brother or a sister to share it with, someone who knew firsthand what it was like to grow up in the same house, under the same circumstances, carrying the same disappointments.

But he had no siblings.

No brothers.

No sisters.

The closest thing he had was Chris.

Apart from his mother, whose relationship with him was a complicated mixture of love, frustration, and resentment, Chris was the one constant in his life. He was the brother Dom had never had, the friend who had stood beside him through every mistake, every bad decision, and every difficult moment. Chris had seen him at his worst and never turned his back on him. Their lives were vastly different in many ways, but one thing had never changed: no matter what happened, Dom knew he could count on Chris to have his back.

And yet, despite having that unwavering friendship, despite having someone he trusted more than anyone else, there was still a part of him that wanted more.

Wanted something he could never have.

Wanted someone he could never have.

Stephanie.

Chris's twin sister.

Just thinking about her was enough to make his chest tighten.

Stephanie was everything Dom had ever wanted in a woman. She was strong-willed, intelligent, beautiful, and kind in a way that made his heart ache. For years, he had carried feelings for her that he could never quite get rid of, no matter how hard he tried. He had spent countless nights wondering what it would be like if she looked at him the way he looked at her, if she saw him as more than her brother's best friend. Sometimes he allowed himself to imagine a future that could never exist, a future where Chris wasn't just his best friend but his brother-in-law, where Stephanie was more than a dream he kept hidden deep inside his heart.

It was foolish.

He knew it was.

Because no matter how many times he imagined it, reality remained unchanged.

That door had been closed a long time ago.

And no amount of wishing was ever going to open it.

Lost in his thoughts, Dom was suddenly pulled back to reality by a sharp knock at the door.

Before he could even react, a familiar voice called out from the other side.

"Dom, open up, man. I know you're in there."

Dom let out a quiet sigh, forcing himself to push his thoughts aside as he stood and made his way to the door. The moment he unlocked it and pulled it open, Chris stepped forward and wrapped him in a quick but firm hug, the kind born from years of friendship and an understanding that didn't always require words.

"Hey, man. How're you doing?" Chris asked as he pulled back, studying him carefully.

"I'm good, man. You know how it is."

Chris frowned slightly.

"Any problem?"

"No. Why?"

"You seem a little tense." Chris tilted his head. "Something happened?"

Dom shook his head.

"Nothing happened, man. I'm just thinking."

"Okay then, if you say so."

Chris exhaled heavily and rubbed the back of his neck, looking unusually uncertain.

That alone was enough to catch Dom's attention.

Chris was rarely unsure of himself.

"Listen, man," Chris said after a moment. "I have some news."

Dom raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of news?"

Chris hesitated.

The hesitation made Dom's stomach tighten.

"I don't even know how to feel about it."

Dom raised an eyebrow, forcing a smirk onto his face.

"Good news? I could use some of that today. Might actually make this Monday a little less miserable."

Chris hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then he said it.

"Stephanie's getting married."

The words hit Dom like a punch to the gut.

His stomach clenched.

"What?"

His voice came out sharper than intended, disbelief evident in a single word.

"Yeah, man." Chris nodded slowly. "I was shocked too. But it's true."

As he spoke, his eyes remained fixed on Dom, carefully watching his reaction. Truthfully, Chris wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it himself. Stephanie was only nineteen. Hell, even she knew she was young.

"She's only nineteen," Dom said, his voice rising slightly. "What the hell?"

"That's exactly what I told her." Chris sighed heavily. "But she's in love with the guy, man. Completely in love. I tried talking to her, but she won't listen. At the end of the day, I'm her twin. I'm supposed to support her."

Dom swallowed hard.

His throat suddenly felt dry.

"I don't even know what to say."

"Yeah." Chris rubbed the back of his neck. "I know. The wedding's on the twenty-fifth of May."

Dom stared at him.

"That's two months away."

"Yep."

"Isn't that a little soon?"

Chris dragged a hand down his face.

"I don't know, man. All I know is she's getting married to Michael Thompson."

Dom went completely still.

For a moment, he honestly thought he had heard wrong.

"Mike?"

Chris nodded.

"Mike."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

"Out of every man in the world, she picked that asshole?"

Chris groaned.

"Here we go."

"No, seriously." Dom threw his hands into the air. "Mike? That's who she chose? There are millions of men walking around this planet and somehow she landed on him?"

"Dom—"

"No, because I genuinely need someone to explain it to me." His frustration was beginning to spill over. "That guy is a complete douche. Always has been. There are plenty of men out there who'd treat her right, but Mike isn't one of them. Not even close."

Chris remained silent.

Dom continued.

"I don't trust him. I don't like him. And I definitely don't think he'll take care of her the way she deserves."

A slow breath escaped Chris's lungs.

He shifted uncomfortably, looking away for a moment before glancing back at his friend.

"And what's going on with you?"

His tone was casual, but Dom knew him too well.

Chris was changing the subject.

Or at least trying to.

Dom scoffed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Nothing."

"Right."

"I'm serious."

"Sure you are."

Dom shook his head.

"I'm just saying your sister deserves better than Mike. That's all."

"That's all?"

"Yeah."

Chris looked unconvinced.

Dom sighed heavily.

"Come on, man. You know what I'm talking about. That guy is something else, and not in a good way. I don't even know how to describe him properly. Stephanie has terrible taste in men, and I say that with all due respect."

Chris snorted despite himself.

Dom ignored him.

"There are so many guys out there who would worship the ground she walks on. Guys who would treat her like a queen. Like the princess she deserves to be. Men who would respect her, cherish her, put her first every single day."

He stopped abruptly and exhaled.

His frustration was beginning to show more than he intended.

"I just don't see Mike being that guy. I don't. And honestly, everything about this feels rushed. She's nineteen, Chris. Nineteen. What's the rush?"

The amusement disappeared from Chris's face.

His jaw tightened.

"And what?" he asked quietly. "You think you're one of those guys?"

Dom blinked.

"What?"

"One of those men who'd treat my sister like a queen."

The challenge in Chris's voice was impossible to miss.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Dom looked away.

"It doesn't matter whether I am or not."

Chris's eyes narrowed.

"That's not an answer."

Dom let out a long sigh and turned toward the kitchen.

"I was about to make coffee. You want some?"

Chris didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Didn't let him change the subject.

"That doesn't answer my question, Dom."

Silence.

"I don't want your damn coffee."

The words landed heavily between them.

"I want an answer."

Dom clenched his jaw.

He had known this conversation would come eventually.

Maybe not today.

Maybe not like this.

But he had always known it was coming.

The walls suddenly felt closer.

The room felt smaller.

And the confrontation he had spent years avoiding stood directly in front of him.

"I know whatever I feel for your sister is never going to be acceptable to you," he said quietly. "So why should I even bother answering?"

Chris took a step forward, his expression hardening as he fixed Dom with an unwavering stare.

"Listen to me, and listen carefully."

The casual tone that had existed between them moments ago was gone.

"You’re my friend, Dom. My best friend. But that doesn't mean you're good enough for my sister."

The words landed like a punch.

Chris didn't stop.

"I don't want Stephanie tied to someone like you. A guy who always seems to have one foot in trouble. A guy with a history he can't seem to leave behind no matter how hard he tries. I won't sit back and watch her get dragged into that life."

His jaw tightened.

"Not Stephanie."

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Dom stared at him, something dark and unreadable flashing across his eyes.

A storm.

A mixture of anger, disbelief and hurt.

"So that's what this is?" he asked quietly. "You're telling me you'd rather your sister marry Michael Thompson?"

Chris didn't answer.

Dom let out a humourless laugh.

"Seriously?"

Still nothing.

"You honestly think he's better than me?"

Chris's expression remained cold.

Unreadable.

"Being my best friend doesn't give you a free pass to have feelings for my sister, Dom."

The words were calm.

Too calm.

"It doesn't mean you get to decide you're good enough for her. It doesn't mean you get to insert yourself into her life and expect me to be okay with it."

He folded his arms across his chest.

"You and I are close. We always will be."

Then came the final blow.

"But you and Stephanie?"

He shook his head.

"That's never happening."

The certainty in his voice was brutal.

"I need you to understand that."

Dom inhaled sharply.

Slowly, he nodded.

"Yeah."

His voice was flat.

Empty.

"I hear you."

But the truth was that every word Chris spoke felt like a knife being driven deeper into his chest.

Because none of it was surprising.

Not really.

He had always known Chris would never approve.

Always known his feelings for Stephanie would become a problem one day.

What he hadn't expected was for it to hurt this much.

Or for his best friend to dismiss him so completely.

As though he wasn't even worth considering.

Chris let out a long breath and rubbed a hand over his face.

Suddenly, he looked exhausted.

"I came here to share good news with my best friend."

His voice lacked the anger it had carried moments before.

Now there was only frustration.

"And somehow we ended up here."

Dom said nothing.

Chris shook his head.

"I don't even know if I should've come at all."

The silence between them grew heavier.

"I'll come back when you've calmed down."

He moved toward the door before stopping briefly.

"When you've gotten those stupid feelings for my sister out of your head."

The words lingered long after they were spoken.

A second later, Chris walked out.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And just like that, he was gone.

Dom remained where he was, staring at the closed door as silence settled over the room.

A suffocating silence.

The kind that seemed to press against his chest and make it difficult to breathe.

For several moments, he didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Didn't even blink.

He simply stood there, alone with the weight of everything that had just happened, feeling as though the walls around him were closing in and crushing him beneath a burden he no longer knew how to carry.

"I don't even know what to do anymore."

The words slipped from Dom's lips in a whisper as he paced back and forth across his bedroom, running a frustrated hand through his hair. His mind was a battlefield, his thoughts colliding with one another so violently that he could barely focus on a single one.

"I never realised falling in love could feel like this," he muttered bitterly. "Nobody ever talks about this part. Nobody tells you that loving someone can feel like carrying a weight that gets heavier every single day. Nobody tells you that it can hurt this much."

He stopped pacing for a moment and stared blankly at the wall in front of him.

"I love you, Steph."

The confession came out quietly.

Painfully.

"I love you so much that it hurts."

A hollow laugh escaped him.

"And I'd wait forever if I had to."

His jaw tightened.

"But how am I supposed to wait when your own brother is standing in my way? How am I supposed to keep believing I have a chance when Chris has made it painfully clear that he'd rather see you with Michael Thompson than with me?"

The thought alone made his chest ache.

What hurt the most wasn't the wedding.

It wasn't even Michael.

It was Chris.

His best friend.

His brother in everything but blood.

"The worst part isn't that I have to fight for you," he continued, shaking his head. "The worst part is that I have to fight against someone who's supposed to be on my side. Chris is supposed to have my back. He's supposed to know me better than anyone."

His voice dropped lower.

"But instead, he's standing in my way."

The room suddenly felt smaller.

More suffocating.

"And now I have to live with the fact that my best friend doesn't think I'm good enough for you."

The words tasted bitter.

Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, that was the part that hurt the most.

Not Chris's disapproval.

Not his anger.

His lack of belief.

Chris genuinely thought Stephanie deserved better than him.

Dom squeezed his eyes shut.

"I need to do something."

He resumed pacing.

"I need to figure something out. I need to make him see that this wedding is a mistake."

His determination slowly began to overpower his frustration.

"I can't just stand there and watch her marry Michael."

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"I won't."

The words came out firm.

Resolute.

Even if he had no idea how he was going to do it.

"Even if it's the last thing I do, I have to stop this wedding."

Lost in his thoughts, Dom didn't hear the bedroom door open.

He didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching.

The first indication that he was no longer alone came when a familiar voice cut through the silence.

"Well, well, well."

Dom froze.

His mother's voice carried a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

"It looks like my son has completely disappeared."

He turned around and found her standing near the doorway, her arms folded across her chest as she studied him carefully.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Because the young man standing in front of me is clearly somewhere else entirely."

Her gaze swept over him.

The tension in his shoulders.

The frustration written all over his face.

The restless energy that practically radiated from him.

"Anything troubling you, Dominic?"

Dom let out a quiet, humourless chuckle and shook his head.

"Nothing, Mom."

The answer was automatic.

Instinctive.

He sighed heavily.

"Just thinking about my life and what a mess it is right now."

One of her eyebrows immediately rose.

"Your life?"

She leaned casually against the doorframe.

"And what exactly about your life has you so deep in thought that you didn't even notice me walking into the room?"

"A lot of things, Mom."

Dom looked away.

Too many things.

Far too many.

"Too many to count."

His mother hummed knowingly.

The sound alone was enough to make him nervous.

Because if there was one thing Dominic Burton had learned over the years, it was that his mother could read him better than anyone else in the world.

Including himself.

His mother took a step closer, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. A knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips, the kind of smile that immediately made Dom suspicious.

"And who exactly is this girl that has managed to turn my son into such a lovesick mess?"

Dom's eyes widened.

His jaw tightened.

Then he scoffed.

"Mom!"

"What?"

"You were eavesdropping?"

His mother blinked innocently.

"Seriously?" Dom continued. "That's bad manners, you know."

A dramatic gasp escaped her lips.

She immediately placed a hand over her chest as though he had just accused her of committing a terrible crime.

"Excuse me?"

Dom rolled his eyes.

"My own son is trying to teach me about manners?"

She shook her head dramatically.

"I have truly seen everything."

"Mom—"

"No, let me speak."

She pointed a finger at him.

"What is this world coming to when children are lecturing their parents about proper behaviour?"

"Mom, stop being overdramatic."

Despite everything weighing on him, a small smile tugged at the corners of Dom's mouth.

His mother had always had a talent for making him laugh when he least wanted to.

"I'm just saying that listening to other people's conversations isn't exactly polite."

"Oh, please."

"And for the record," he continued, "nobody has stolen my heart."

His mother scoffed so loudly that Dom almost laughed.

"Dominic Burton."

The use of his full name immediately told him she wasn't buying a single word.

"Don't even try to be clever with me."

She waved a dismissive hand.

"I wasn't born yesterday."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"I can see it written all over your face."

"Mom—"

"Nope."

She pointed at him again.

"Those eyes."

Then at his forehead.

"That expression."

Then at his chest.

"That pathetic look of heartbreak."

"Pathetic?"

"Very pathetic."

Dom groaned.

His mother ignored him.

"You might as well have the words 'I'm in love' stamped across your forehead."

She folded her arms.

"So tell me the truth."

A pause.

"You love her, don't you?"

The teasing disappeared from her voice.

For the first time since entering the room, she sounded genuinely serious.

Dom let out a long sigh.

There was no point denying it.

Not to her.

Running a hand through his hair, he finally gave in.

"Yeah, Mom."

The words felt strangely freeing.

"I do."

His gaze dropped briefly to the floor.

"I love her more than I've ever loved anything in my entire life."

The confession seemed to energise his mother.

Her eyes immediately lit up.

"Oh my God."

Dom groaned.

He knew that look.

Questions were coming.

Lots of questions.

"Who is she?"

Right on cue.

"Do I know her?"

Another one.

"Where is she from?"

And another.

"Is she pretty?"

She paused.

Then waved her own question away.

"Actually, that's a stupid question. Of course she's pretty."

"Mom..."

"But tell me anyway."

"Mom."

"Is she beautiful?"

"Mom."

"How beautiful?"

"Mom!"

His mother finally stopped talking.

Dom threw his hands into the air.

"Can you slow down?"

"No."

"One question at a time."

"No."

"We're not in an interrogation room."

His mother raised a single eyebrow.

"Answer the question."

"What question?"

"The first one."

Dom sighed dramatically.

His mother simply waited.

Patiently.

Knowing she would win.

Eventually, Dom gave up.

"No, she's not in the same college as me."

His mother nodded.

"Good."

"Why is that good?"

"Less competition."

Dom stared at her.

His mother shrugged.

"Continue."

He shook his head.

"Anyway, she's from here."

"And?"

"You know her."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

Dom let out a frustrated sigh.

"And she's beautiful."

His mother's smile grew.

"No."

Dom shook his head.

"Beautiful isn't even the right word."

His voice softened.

"She's the most breathtakingly gorgeous girl I've ever seen."

The room grew quieter.

"She's perfect, Mom."

The words escaped before he could stop them.

"She's everything."

A painful smile touched his lips.

"But none of it matters."

His mother frowned immediately.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'll never have her."

The words tasted bitter.

"It's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible."

"It is in this case."

His mother remained silent.

Waiting.

"She's the daughter of a powerful business entrepreneur."

He sighed.

"And to make things worse, she's Chris's twin sister."

Understanding immediately flashed across his mother's face.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Dom shook his head.

"There's no way this works out."

His voice sounded tired.

Defeated.

"I think it's time I accept that and move on."

His mother's reaction was immediate.

"Nonsense."

The force behind the single word startled him.

"Nonsense?"

"Absolute nonsense."

She stepped forward.

"If you love her the way you say you do, then you don't just let her go."

Her eyes blazed with conviction.

"You fight for her."

"Mom—"

"No."

She cut him off.

"Listen to me carefully, Dominic."

Her voice softened slightly.

"You don't walk away from something this important."

She pressed a hand against his chest.

"Not when your heart is screaming at you to hold on."

Dom swallowed.

His mother's gaze never left his.

"You're a Burton."

Pride filled her voice.

"And Burton men don't run from challenges."

She shook her head.

"They don't back down."

Her expression hardened.

"They fight."

A pause.

"And they win."

Something stirred inside Dom.

Something he thought had died hours ago.

Hope.

"I refuse to believe that the son I raised is willing to give up without even trying."

Her voice was fierce now.

Passionate.

Determined.

"No, Dominic."

She pointed at him.

"That's not who you are."

His chest tightened.

"You said you love this girl, right?"

"Yes."

"Then fight for her."

The answer came without hesitation.

"Make her see what you see."

Her eyes softened.

"Make her see the man you've become."

Dom remained silent.

Listening.

Absorbing every word.

"You were never meant to be a coward."

Her hand moved to his cheek.

"And I refuse to let you become one now."

For several moments, Dom simply stood there.

His mother's words settled deep inside him, igniting something he had spent years trying to suppress.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe he had already accepted defeat before the fight had even begun.

Maybe he had spent so much time convincing himself he wasn't good enough that he had forgotten to ask what Stephanie wanted.

If he truly loved her...

If he truly believed she deserved better than Michael...

Then standing back and doing nothing wasn't an option.

He had to fight.

For her.

For himself.

For the future he still desperately wanted.

Slowly, he looked up.

There was a new determination in his eyes.

A fire that hadn't been there before.

"Thanks, Mom."

His voice was quiet but sincere.

"I really needed to hear that."

A warm smile spread across her face.

The fierce warrior who had just delivered a motivational speech disappeared, replaced by a loving mother. Dom loved it when Charlotte Burton was his mother and not Carlton Burton's wife.

"Anytime, sweetheart."

She stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead.

"You know I'll always be here when you need me."