My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 166: Here With You

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Ethan sprang to his feet as soon as I set the tray down, the porcelain hardly making a sound against the polished table before he was already making his way across the room. I barely had a moment to brace myself before he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly as if he feared I’d vanish if he loosened his grip even just a bit. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

The force of it knocked the breath from my lungs; his chest was solid against mine, and I could feel his heart racing through my clothes.

For a split second, I thought he might actually crush me, but I didn’t pull away laughing telling him to let go like I usually would. I didn’t say a word. I just stood there, letting him hold me while my arms instinctively wrapped around the back of his jacket, my fingers clutching the fabric as if it was my only lifeline to reality. His familiar scent, a mix of warmth and comfort...made my throat tighten painfully.

When he finally let go, his hands didn’t move away; they found my face, cupping my cheeks as he tilted my head gently from side to side, his eyes racing over me as if he was trying to catalog every inch, searching for something broken.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice strained. "Noah, are you—are you hurting anywhere?"

"I’m okay," I replied quickly, almost automatically. "I swear. I’m fine."

He didn’t look convinced. His brows knitted together, his blue eyes dark and glassy with exhaustion and fear as he searched my face again, as if waiting for me to crack and admit something awful. "Are you sure?" he pressed gently. "You don’t have to hide from me. If anything hurts, if something else happened before we showed—"

"I’m sure," I interrupted, managing a small smile even though it felt wrong. "I promise."

Something shifted in his expression, and the tension in his shoulders sagged as he let out a shaky breath. Without another word, he pulled me back into his arms, this time slower and gentler, his hands resting protectively against my back.

"I’m so sorry," he murmured into my hair, his voice breaking. "I’m really so sorry. I should’ve been there. I should’ve—God, Noah, I’m so, so sorry."

He kept repeating it, over and over—each apology weighing heavier than the last, as if he was trying to make up for everything all at once. I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against his shoulder, allowing myself to sink into the warmth of his embrace even while my chest ached with unspoken words. His arms felt safe, solid, real.

And for a few fragile seconds, I let myself believe that maybe, just for now, being held like this would keep everything from unraveling.

But then I felt that familiar sinking weight in my chest again, I was about to lie to him by omission once again. After everything I’d promised myself, after vowing I wouldn’t keep secrets from Ethan anymore, here I was, standing right in front of him with my heart torn in two and my mouth getting ready to hide the truth.

I pulled away from his hug before I could stop myself, my hands slipping from his jacket as tears spilled down, hot and relentless. So much had happened in less than twenty-four hours that it felt like my body couldn’t keep up; if I stayed still for too long, I would shatter completely. My chest felt tight, my throat burned, and breathing was a struggle.

"D–do you... um, do you want some tea?" I asked, my voice cracking as I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, pretending the tears were nothing, pretending I was still in control.

Ethan didn’t respond immediately. I could feel his eyes on me as I turned toward the table, my hands shaking enough that I had to clench them into fists before I reached for the tray.

The tea set was ridiculously elegant as everything was in this mansion, delicate porcelain with gold trimming that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe back then and somehow, that made everything feel even more absurd. I poured carefully, the soft sound of liquid filling the cups ringing too loud in the quiet room.

I handed him one with a weak, crooked smile. "We both look like shit right now," I said lightly, trying to inject some humor into the air. "So I guess it’s fitting."

He accepted the cup but didn’t smile back. Didn’t laugh either, he just stared at me, his fingers gripping the porcelain tightly as if it was the only thing keeping him steady.

I sat down across from him, hands curled in my lap, my shoulders slumped as the adrenaline slowly drained away. "...so, how are you holding up?" I asked softly, even though I already had a feeling I knew the answer.

Ethan frowned immediately, his brows drawing together as if the question itself hurt him. "Don’t," he said quietly. "Don’t do that."

I looked up, confused. "Do what?"

"Pretend," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "You don’t have to pretend you’re okay for me, Noah. I know you’re not." He swallowed hard, clenching his jaw as his eyes dropped to the tea in his hands. "And this... this is my fault."

My heart lurched. "Ethan—"

"If I had been there," he interrupted, finally looking back at me, his blue eyes glassy and worn out. "If I hadn’t let you go alone, if I’d just stayed with you like I should’ve... none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt."

The word "hurt" hung in the air, heavy and loaded, and my fingers dug into my palms to keep myself grounded. I shook my head slowly, despite the guilt radiating from him. "No," I said, almost a whisper. "Please don’t say that."

"But it’s true," he insisted, his voice cracking against his effort to stay composed. "I’m supposed to protect you. I should be there for you, and I wasn’t."

I didn’t know how to explain that the situation was more complicated than that, tangled with things I wasn’t ready to voice. That protecting me wasn’t just about being present and that some lines had been crossed long before last night. So instead, I reached across the small space between us, wrapping my fingers around his wrist to anchor both of us.

"I’m here now," I said softly. "And so are you. That has to mean something."

He nodded slowly, but the guilt still lingered in his expression, and I knew this conversation wasn’t over. Not really. It was just beginning.