Page 4 of Hey, Stepbro

For some reason, his message makes me smile. I decide to text him back, hoping that talking to someone who doesn't know me personally will give me a fresh perspective on things.

Me:Hey. Not great, honestly. Found out my girlfriend Amanda is leaving me for someone else.

AnimalLover:Oh no, I'm sorry to hear that. That must be really tough.

Me:Yeah, it is. I feel so betrayed, you know?

AnimalLover:I can imagine. But maybe it's a sign that something wasn't quite right in the relationship? And now you have the opportunity to find someone who's really right for you.

Me:Yeah, maybe you're right. It's hard to see it that way right now.

AnimalLover:I understand. But sometimes it takes a little time and distance to see things clearly. Remember that you're a great catch and you deserve someone who loves and respects you.

Me:Thanks, man. That means a lot.

AnimalLover:Anytime. And if you need someone to talk to, I'm here.

Me:I appreciate it. Maybe we could actually meet up sometime?

AnimalLover:That sounds great. I'd like that.

The thought of meeting my pen pal in person fills me with a sense of nervousness. Maybe this is the distraction I need right now.

As I put my phone down, I realize that talking to someone who doesn't know my personal life is exactly what I needed. It's like a breath of fresh air, and I feel lighter already.

Maybe things will get better after all.

CHAPTER2

BLAKELY

THREE YEARS AGO

"Mom?" I whisper, staring at the unmoving body on the hospital bed. Tubes travel through her nose and into her lungs. IVs pump clear liquid into her veins, the sight causing my heart to ache.

I take a step closer to the bed, my hand trembling as I reach out to feel my mother's clammy skin. She's so still, so lifeless. It's hard to believe that a few hours ago, she was still talking to me, laughing at my jokes, and holding my hand.

My mind is racing with thoughts and memories. Memories of my mother's warm hugs, her delicious cooking, and her unwavering love and support. Memories of all the times she stood by me, when I came out as gay, through thick and thin.

Tears start to stream down my face as I realize that I might lose her forever. The thought is unbearable, and my heart breaks into a million pieces. I wish there was something, anything, that I could do to make her better.

Suddenly, a hand touches my shoulder, and I turn to see my mother's doctor standing behind me. She looks at me with a sympathetic expression, and I can tell from the look on her face that the news is not good.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, "but there's nothing more we can do for her. She took too many pills."

Too many pills. The vicious words echo through my mind as I stare at my mother's lifeless body. They're words I never wanted to hear, ones that fill me with pain and despair.

"She told me she quit taking them," I whisper.

"It can be hard to resist the temptation. We did everything we could, but the damage was already done."

I feel like screaming, like tearing the tubes and IVs out of my mother's body and shaking her until she wakes up. But I know it's useless. She's gone, and there's nothing I can do to bring her back.

The doctor gives me a moment to say goodbye, and then quietly leaves the room. I'm left alone with my thoughts and the sound of the machines keeping my mother's body alive.

I lean down to give her a kiss on the forehead. She's still warm, and for a moment, I think she might open her eyes and smile at me. But she doesn't. She's gone, and I'm left to deal with the aftermath.

Dad enters the room. "She tried her hardest, Blakely. Rehab. Quitting cold turkey. She wanted to get clean for you."

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