Are you coming?
Charlotte’s POV
I woke up with a dry throat and a burning feeling in my chest. My head was heavy, and every muscle in my body ached. Slowly, I pushed myself up with a low groan. A small smile formed on my lips when I realised I was wearing Luther’s shirt. No bra underneath, just my favourite red panties. My memories from last night were still clear. The pain from what my mother had done still lingered in my heart.
“Luther?” I called out, but my voice cracked and turned into a cough. I looked around, hoping to see him. I kept thinking about how lucky I was to have him, even while thoughts of my mother crept back in.
“Luther?” I pushed the covers aside, swung my legs over the bed, and stood up on the soft rug beneath my feet. When there was no answer, I decided to head downstairs. Maybe I could get some warm water and find something to eat.
I walked slowly through the hallway, eyes skimming the beautiful art hanging on the walls. Then I heard a voice I knew too well.
“Mom?” I said under my breath, frowning. What was she doing here? She knew I didn’t want to see her.
As I walked closer, the shouting grew louder. My chest tightened.
“What did you just say?”
I reached the top of the stairs and saw her storming toward Luther. He stood still, looking at her with a bored face.
“Sophie, please,” Stanley said, stepping in between them.
“I will kill…”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice weak and dry.
“Is it true that…”
I lifted my hand to stop her, but she ignored it.
“Are you dating Luther? What did he do to you? Did he force you? Is he threatening you, sweetheart?”
She looked so hurt, but deep down, I didn’t buy it. I didn’t think she was being honest.
“Yes, Luther is my boyfriend. And no, he didn’t force me. I chose him. Do you have a problem with that?”
I didn’t care how she found out. Right now, all that mattered was that I wasn’t going to lie about us.
“Oh my god,” she gasped, staring at me. “You’re even wearing his shirt!” She covered her mouth like she couldn’t believe it. “He’s more than ten years older than you!”
I started walking down the stairs. My legs were unsteady, but I had never felt stronger inside. I’d spent too long worrying about how she’d react. But now that it was happening, I was ready.
“So what?” I said, raising my shoulders. Another dry cough escaped me.
“You should be resting,” Luther said as he rushed over, finally snapping out of his shock. He wrapped his arm around me and helped me to the sofa.
His brother ran to the kitchen and came back with a cup of warm water, while my mother kept yelling from across the room.
“The doctor clearly said Charlotte needs to avoid stress, sweetheart. Why don’t we leave and come back when she’s feeling better, and when you’ve calmed down?” Stanley’s voice was calm, trying to smooth things over as usual. I sat back, quietly sipping my warm water.
“I’m not leaving my daughter in the hands of a pervert!” she screamed, and the cruel word made Luther tense beside me.
“Pervert?” I stood up, hands trembling, my chest rising and falling as anger built inside me.
“You’re the reason my blood pressure dropped the last time. Did you come to make sure it happens again? Do you not want to see me happy?”
“Am I underage, Mother?” I asked quietly. Stanley turned to glare at her.
“Charlotte is an adult,” Stanley said through clenched teeth. “Why would you make things worse by insulting my brother?”
I knew Stanley was caught in a tough spot, torn between his wife and his brother, but it was becoming clear that he stood on the side of reason.
“Oh, come on,” she scoffed. “Don’t tell me you have no issue with that age difference.” She glanced at him, her face unreadable.
“Does age matter if I’m happy?” I shot back. “Weren’t you the one who always said, ‘If you’re happy, I’m happy’? Did that suddenly change?”
“This is different,” she snapped. “Or are you forgetting that, legally, they’re family?”
Silence followed. I sank into the chair, closing my eyes, wishing I could block out her voice.
“Oh, right,” she added, venom in her tone. “Now that I’m married to Stanley, his brother is like Charlotte’s step-uncle. I’ll sue you for taking advantage of my daughter.”
My eyes flew open, catching her satisfied expression. My own mother looked like she enjoyed watching me fall apart.
Luther let out a laugh, loud and full of disbelief, his head tilted back.
“There is no law stopping two people who are connected only by marriage from dating or getting married. Charlotte and I aren’t related by blood in any way. I made sure. So go ahead, sue me, if that’ll make you feel better,” he said coolly.
Stanley just stood there, lost in thought, like he was seeing this side of her for the first time.
“The one who should be suing is me,” I said, standing again. “I won’t let you kick me out of my father’s house just because of money. You’ve made it clear, money means more to you than I do.”
Saying those words made my chest tighten. I never thought my own mother would try to push me out of the only place that felt like home.
“Are you serious now?” she said, laughing, cold and sharp, the kind that cut deeper than words.
“So, your new rich boyfriend has filled your head with bold ideas now?” she snapped. “Don’t let his money make you think you can take that house from me. That property was your father’s, and you have no right to it. I was the one who lived with him through all his nonsense and boring work. I cooked for him, cleaned up after him, did everything a wife was expected to do—and I raised you, you ungrateful brat. I deserve everything he left behind. Not you.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My jaw dropped. My mind was still stuck on her words, repeating them in my head like a broken record. I couldn’t believe she said that—not just about the house, but about me.
It felt like I didn’t even know her at all.
“Get out,” I finally said, my voice low but clear as I pointed at the front door.
She turned to Stanley. “Are you coming?”
But Stanley didn’t reply. He simply turned his back on her, shoulders low, head down. Like me, he was in shock. It was as if he was seeing a stranger standing there instead of his wife.
Luther reached over and squeezed my thigh, grounding me, silently telling me that this was really happening, not a nightmare.
“Well then,” she said bitterly. “I see you’ve picked your side. Don’t come crawling back when everything falls apart.”
She walked out with a sharp look over her shoulder, one last glare thrown my way. Her eyes were full of anger, so full of it that I had to blink twice. How could those be the same eyes that once looked at me with love?
“Who even is that?” I whispered. “Because that is not the woman who gave birth to me.”
A single tear rolled down my cheek.
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