KESTER.
SIX MONTHS LATER.
It was late afternoon, and the rain outside was heavy.
Dr. Ansel leaned back in his chair with his legs crossed neatly as usual, pen resting on the edge of his yellow notepad, and his ugly glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.
Me? My arms were locked tight across my chest, like I was holding something broken inside me together.
“So that’s it,” I muttered in a flat but tight voice. “Six months. I showed up. I talked. I didn’t throw a chair through your window. I didn’t burn the place down. I’m still standing. That should be good enough.”
Dr. Ansel studied me the way a surgeon studies an open wound with curiosity, patience, and a little too steady for comfort.
He tilted his head, calm as ever. “Is it good enough for you?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. I looked toward the rain dripping down the glass like the sky was leaking secrets it never wanted to share.
“I didn’t come here to cry on couches or to get soft,” I muttered. “I came here to get my shit together. To get back in control. To stop waking up angry at a world that didn’t give a damn when I wanted. To stop cursing the woman who called herself my mother. To stop thinking I’m one wrong move away from failing my wife… or my kids.”
I exhaled hard, my shoulders dropping a fraction. “So yeah. I’m better. Better than I was. So why the hell do we need to keep digging?”
Dr. Ansel slowly shook his head and adjusted his glasses, “Because you’re not finished, Kester. You’re just learning to live with the silence after the gunfire. But that silence isn’t peace. The war inside you hasn’t ended. It’s only waiting.”
A dry, bitter laugh escaped me. I’m tired of bleeding on a couch. I thought six months would be enough. Turns out healing doesn’t care about my deadline.”
“Exactly,” he said gently. “And that isn’t failure. That’s honesty. For years, you survived by running faster than the shadows behind you. Therapy… this is the first time you’ve stopped
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long enough to hear your own footsteps.”
His words crawled under my skin, burrowed deep. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to look
away.
“Six months brought you here. Imagine what twelve could give you.”
The rain hit harder outside, as if the sky was agreeing with him.
“She deserves better than a man who still twitches in his sleep and snaps when someone
touches his shoulder.” Dr. Ansel added.
For a long time, I sat there, staring at the rain. My hands slowly uncurled from my arms,
resting open on my knees.
And then, I nodded. Not to him. Not even to myself. But to the life I refused to lose. “For her.”
Dr. Ansel’s pen scratched against the pad. Then he set it down.
“Good,” he said quietly. “Then let’s do this.”
FIVE YEARS LATER.
KASMINE.
The house was alive with laughter. The kind that rang so pure and unbroken, bouncing off the
walls until even the silence felt warm.
Kael and Claira tumbled across the living room floor, little feet chasing each other in circles
until they crashed in a heap of giggles. Their cheeks were flushed, eyes sparkling, voices so full
of life it made my chest ache.
The door opened, and more light spilled in. “Here they are, our little partners in crime!” Norlan boomed as he and Brie stepped in with wide smiles, with their daughter squealing as she raced
to hug Claira, while their boy toddled straight into Kester’s waiting hands.
My husband lifted him easily, ruffling the boy’s hair as the child squealed with delight. “Getting heavier,” he said, his deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You’ll be running my twins ragged before long.”
“Good,” Norlan grinned, “That’s the plan.”
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The twins squealed back, hugging their friends like they hadn’t seen them in years instead of
days.
“You two ready for an adventure?” Brie grinned, crouching to Kael’s level.
“Yes!” Kael shouted, bouncing on his toes as he ran into Norlan’s arms.
“Come on, troublemakers,” Norlan chuckled, scooping Kael up onto his shoulders with ease.
Brie lifted Claira’s tiny hand and kissed it before tugging her close. “The show starts soon. We don’t want to miss it.”
Claira clutched her little bag and announced proudly, “We’re going to see the big animals!”
“Don’t spoil the surprise,” Norlan teased, his eyes crinkling as he shot me a smile.
“Thank you,” I said softly, my chest swelling as I bent to kiss both my babies on their cheeks. “Be good, alright?”
“We will, Mama!” Claira promised, hugging me tight before Brie led her to the door.
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Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.
Synopsis : My Stepbrother
