I don’t know what to say, so I just breathe, and let the silence gather around us, warm and absolute.
The city outside keeps glittering, cold and perfect, but in here it’s just us, and the truth.
And I realize for the first time ever, that’s all I really need.
His declaration sits between us,almost tangible in the air. Hunter doesn’t move at first, like he’s waiting for an alarm to sound, for the floor to give way. But it’s me who shifts, tucking my feet under the blanket and hugging my knees close, trying to make myself smaller.
The silence stretches. The hydrangeas on the table seem to wilt a little, as if even the flowers can’t bear the tension.
Hunter gets up, restless energy rippling through his big body. He stands by the window, hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring out at the city. The afternoon sun catches in the glass, turning his reflection into a blue silhouette, and for a minute, he just stays that way—half real, half ghost.
“I’m not sure you understand,” he says, voice almost swallowed by the hum of HVAC. “How long I’ve been fighting this.”
He runs a hand through his hair, rough, almost violent. “You blossomed almost overnight, Tara. I mean that literally. It’s like you woke up one morning and you weren’t a kid anymore. You were a woman. But the moment I saw it, I wanted it. That’s how fucked up I am.”
He turns, leans his forehead against the window, and lets out a sound—part laugh, part groan. “I stopped by the house one day—this was, god, senior year for you? I was supposed to pick up some paperwork for Dad, and you’d just come back from tennis practice. You were in a tiny white skirt showing off long, golden legs, and your hair was all over the place. You smiled at me like you hadn’t seen me in years, and goddamn, baby. You were so gorgeous with those big tits, innocent smile, and legs that went on for days. I almost lost it right there, because you were so gorgeous. But you were young, baby.Tooyoung.”
He flinches, the memory hot enough to burn through his skin.
“I didn’t go to family dinners after that unless I knew you’d be busy. If Mom asked, I’d say I was working. Sometimes I was, but mostly I was just trying not to see you, because I couldn’t trust myself.” He laughs again, bitter. “It never worked. Every time I showed up, you’d be there, even more beautiful than I remembered, and I’d have to leave early just to keep it together.”
He looks at me, finally, and his eyes are raw. “I was terrified, Tara. Not for you, but for myself. Because I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and I couldn’t tell if it was love or obsession, or just a fucked-up combination of both. Yet you’re my stepsister.”
I want to say something, but I can’t. I just stare at him, letting the words sink in, my own breath loud in my ears.
He starts pacing, back and forth across the vast expanse of the living room, pausing only to glance at the skyline. “When you disappeared, we didn’t know for a while, actually. I think Eliza might have called our parents later that night, but they didn’t think to call me immediately.”
He stops by the table, palms flat on the glass, knuckles whitening. “Then, when I saw you on the street, after the accident, I knew it was you. I didn’t care that you didn’t remember me. I just—” His voice breaks, and for the first time, I realize he’s close to tears. “I just wanted to have you. Even if it was wrong. Even if you hated me later.”
He swallows hard, then sits back on the edge of the couch. His hands are shaking.
The whole time, the city is silent behind us. We’re so far above the ground, so isolated, that it almost feels like being in a spaceship, drifting in orbit and waiting for rescue. Or disaster.
I loosen my grip on the blanket, let my legs fall to the side, and just look at him. Hunter, the man who paid millions to buy me, to keep me safe, to keep me all to himself. Hunter, the man who’s been holding this secret for weeks.
My mouth is dry. “Why are you telling me this now?” I whisper.
He shrugs, helpless. “You asked for the truth.”
I nod, even though I didn’t really. Not like this. But maybe I did.
He laughs, sharp and self-loathing. “You probably think I’m a monster.”
I shake my head, slow, deliberate. “No. Just a man who desires someone off limits. His younger sister.”
Hunter looks away, as if the sun hurts his eyes.
And in that moment, I want to reach for him, to erase all the years of shame and loneliness. But I can’t—not yet.
We sit like that, on opposite ends of the couch, with a whole universe of unsaid things stretched between us.
Outside, the city glows gold and blue, indifferent to everything but its own endless hunger.
Inside, there’s only us. And the truths we finally can’t outrun.
I don’t knowwho breaks first—me, or the spell. Maybe it’s both. My eyes sting, hot and then cold, as tears slip down my cheeks before I can even register them. It’s embarrassing, and I try to swipe them away with the back of my hand, but they just keepcoming, making my skin raw. I want to curl up and disappear into the sofa, but that would only make me look as weak as I feel.
Hunter doesn’t notice at first. Or pretends not to. He’s staring at the skyline, so far away he could be in another world.
