My Stepbrother, the Artist
Page 11
“As you all know, I came back to this house — to my old house — when I found out my parents were sick.”
The exit is almost in reach, and Diana can practically smell the fresh air outside. But when she hears her name spoken by Zach, she stops where she is.
“I’ve been staying here with my stepsister, Diana. Diana Simms who, as you all know, is the world-renowned fashion model.”
Diana hears the light applause as she turns slowly, seeing people looking at her for a second before going back up to Zach. Zach, on the other hand, is looking directly at her.
“I did something during my time here,” he says, his eyes never leaving her, “something I’m sure you’re all very aware of. There were newspaper headlines — ones that showed pictures of me, naked, in bed with Diana, who was also naked. It was a scandal, and one that I set up without her knowledge. It was meant to shock people. It was meant to get more attention on me.”
Diana can feel her face burning. Some people are turning back to look at her again and she wishes they wouldn’t. She wishes they would all just go away so that she could disappear forever.
“But the attention was a hollow one, because by pulling this little publicity stunt I ended up hurting somebody — somebody who means a great deal to me. I told the papers later on that the woman I was in bed with was a look-alike to my stepsister, Diana. Well, I’m here to tell you all: it was Diana in bed with me.”
Gasps and murmurs, fill the air. People are talking to one another, heads swivelling back and forth between Zach and Diana. Diana’s face is glowing red with embarrassment. She wants to run away but Zach is still looking at her, trapping her in his gaze, and she finds that she can’t move. She can’t move away from that look.
“Diana and I slept together, it’s true,” Zach says, raising his voice above the din. “And while that might seem crazy to you, or sick or perverted or wrong, it wasn’t wrong to me. Because even though I had everything set up for the reporters to come the next day, what I was really looking forward to was being with her.
“And then, we met again in our solarium.”
Diana’s face, somehow, becomes even redder. She blinks and two tears fall down her cheeks. Zach won’t stop looking right at her.
“Diana and I met again, in our solarium. A large place, one where we used to go when we were younger. We talked, and we fought, there. And then, after confessing something that had been on our chests for years, we made love again. There, on the ground.”
More gasps, more murmurs, fill the air like an effervescence.
“And when we did,” Zach calls out, still speaking to the crowd, still speaking to Diana, “when we did make love, I saw something I hadn’t appreciated before. I saw Diana, naked and vulnerable, on the ground underneath me. And do you know what? Do you know what I saw? I saw the most beautiful thing I had ever laid my eyes on.”
He stops talking, and the noise from the crowd dies down as a pregnant silence seems to fill the air. Anticipatory tension buzzes. Zach waits, neither him nor Diana nor anybody else speaking. And then, spinning around and finally breaking his eye contact with her, Zach grabs a hold of the white sheet behind him and whips it off of his painting.
Diana is able to leave now — the door is right behind her. But she doesn’t. Because what she sees on that canvas, what Zach has spent the last five days painting, freezes her in place more than even Zach’s gaze is able to do.
Depicted in stark realism on a larger than life canvas is Diana, naked, lying on the gravel pathway of the solarium and crying. Her eyes are looking out at the viewer, out at the man in front of her, as her body, her soul, is open and exposed to every single person in that room.
The silence is thick as people stare, Zach stares, Diana stares at that painting. Where her brain would normally be filled with a million thoughts, this time it’s filled with only one. Just one thought; a simple chain of synaptic connections that Diana knows, in her heart of hearts, to be true. And only those standing close to her can hear as her brain carries that thought down through her brain stem, to the motor functions that control the muscles of her mouth and vocal chords, in order to speak the very thing that she’s thinking. And that very thing is:
“I look beautiful.”
Suddenly, with a sharp report that startles Diana back to reality, comes the sound of two hands connecting together. Those hands repeat as a second clap is heard, and then a third. More people join in as they clap, and they clap and they clap, and soon the room is filled with an applause so great that even the most famous of symphony conductors would be forced to join in.
Diana watches as Zach jumps down from the platform, people parting up ahead to make room for him as he moves through the crowd towards her, making his way until finally he’s there, he’s finally right in front of her, just as he always has been. He stops in front of Diana and he looks at her, looks into her eyes, his own glistening with tears that roll down his cheeks as he says the words, “I love you, Diana.”
Diana lets out a sob, and Zach brings her into a tight hug, the people filling the studio still applauding, still celebrating this display of two simple people who only feel a true and real love for one another.
Epilogue
Bright sunlight streams through the clouds, filling the outdoor air, lighting the trees in the forest and, beyond them, the mountains that perch high in the distance.
The blue sky provides the canvas for a calm fall afternoon. The light and colour of the grasses and flowers paint the scene. Diana, with her hair down around her shoulders and wearing a light-yellow sundress that’s only starting to show a bulge at the belly, walks barefoot through the grass to the edge of a hill that overlooks this beautiful Colorado landscape. Zach, wearing shorts and a paint-speckled white dress shirt open at the front, sits on a stool and with an artist’s easel in front of him. In his hand he’s holding a round board with smears of different-coloured paints. On the canvas that’s in front of him he’s capturing the moment perfectly.
“Hi sweety,” Diana says as she approaches this man, the love of her life. He turns to look at her and smiles, his eyes shining as she sits down on one of his knees, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a peck on the lips.
“Hey,” he says, his arm wrapped around Diana, his fingers lightly caressing the place where their child of love is currently growing.
“Mom and dad just called,” she tells him. “They want to know if they should bring any food for this weekend. I told them we should be fine.”
“Yeah, I think we already have everything we need.” He gives Diana a little squeeze and kisses her cheek. “At least, I know I have everything I need.”
Diana smiles and pulls him into a hug before relaxing again. She looks out over the landscape and Zach does the same, the two of them sitting in silence together. The soft call of a bird echoes through the land, and the wind creates a gentle breeze, Zach’s shirt and Diana’s dress rippling over their skin. The two of them are at peace now, them both having exactly what they want in life.
And, now, finally, they’re happy.
Thank You!
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Stepbrother Troubled: Part 1
Emily climbs the stairs to her room. As she reaches the top she notices that the bathroom door is closed and the light in on inside. Emily stops where she is, her mind searching for a moment before she realizes that it must be Blair inside.
She looks at the door to her room and sees the one beside it, leading into her mom’s office, standing ajar. The light in on inside and from the bit she can see, it looks different. Glancing at the bathroom door again, Emily tip-toes over to the office and pushes the door open. She gasps at what she sees.
The office isn’t an office anymore. Her mom’s desk and filing cabinets have all been moved out, and in their place is a double bed with a nightstand beside it, a dresser, and that’s i
t. There aren’t any pictures on the walls; there isn’t a mirror, or even any knick-knacks. The place looks completely Spartan, as though a monk is living there. There isn’t any trace of-
“What are you doing?”
Emily jumps at the deep voice and spins around to find Blair standing, staring down at her. His large, fit body is mere inches from her own. She didn’t hear him come up behind her. He’s quiet.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I was just … this used to be my mom’s office.”
“It’s my bedroom now,” Blair says, his bright-blue eyes penetrating hers. She finds herself captivated by them, but tries to shake the feeling away.
“I can see that,” she retorts. “You don’t really decorate much, do you? No pictures or anything?”
Blair narrows his eyes.
“What do you want?”
Emily opens her mouth, feeling offended. Who is this guy, living in her house and treating her so poorly? She just wanted to be friends with her new stepbrother, not have to defend her every move.
“I just … I just got back and I realize that I don’t know anything about you,” she says. Blair’s features seem to soften, if only a tiny bit. “Tell me something about yourself,” she requests.
He pauses, seeming to consider, before saying, “There’s nothing to know,” and pushes past her into his bedroom. Emily turns to follow, just in time for him to shut the door in her face. She blinks a few times and then goes to the bathroom herself to get ready for bed, fuming.
Why don’t you like me, Blair? she thinks to herself as she brushes her teeth, staring at her reflection in the mirror. What did I do to make you so mad at me already?
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Other Titles
Serials
Hansel and Gretel
Stepbrother’s Obsession
Stepbrother’s Temptation
Stepbrother’s Confession
Stepbrother’s Deception
Stepbrother’s Decision
Stepbrother Troubled
Stepbrother Troubled: Part 1
Stepbrother Troubled: Part 2
Stepbrother Troubled: Part 3
Standalones
Bad Boy Stepbrother
Stepbrother: Clubbed
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About the Author
Sybil Ling is a self-published author whose specialty is in the tense relationships between women and those men they find themselves so close to, but cannot have. Growing up in a large, and very close, family herself, she writes with both experience and passion.
Forbidden fruit is something that Sybil Ling loves to take juicy bites out of. Ms. Ling has been writing risqué stories for some time now and loves the fact that she can now share them. Her stories, while fiction, can definitely be said to be inspired by true events ...
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