Stepbrother Catfish: The Complete Series

by Sweet, Izzy

  Especially if the crazy bitch wants to be my friend.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  My apartment smells stale. It’s been a couple of days, I must have forgotten to empty out the coffee pot. It’s something I usually do after I get home for the night, and I had every intention of coming home after my date…

  Since I’ve exited the cab, I’ve had this paranoid, creeped out feeling that I’m being watched. I kick my door shut, check the peep hole, then secure the deadbolt. I instantly feel better.

  I sag against the door. Now that I’m home, in the safety of my own little apartment, it all hits me at once. I can’t breathe, it hurts so bad. I barely make it over to my couch and collapse on it.

  The hurt just starts to come out in great big wet sobs. I grab up one of the pillows on my couch and hug it against my chest.

  I should have known better. It was all just too good to be true. I read too much into what was going on. I assumed what I wanted and now I’m paying the price for it.

  I’m just so stupid, stupid, stupid. There were so many lies, and I knew he was a liar, straight from the beginning. Still, I let myself get played like a fool. I’m so desperate and lonely, I was practically begging for it.

  It’s so much easier to see it after the fact. It’s so much easier to see when you’re on the outside looking in. But my body and my heart weakened me. I think, if I’m truly honest, I let them. It was so much easier to give in, to enjoy and live in the moment. To get swept away in what could be, to get caught up in all the possibilities. There’s something magical about what could be. The fairy tale ending, a big happy wedding…

  Now, I’m here, crying until it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. My throat is raw, my nose is dripping. And still, it feels like there is so much more hurt that’s trying to claw its way out.

  My heart aches with every beat. Maybe if I’m lucky, it will stop beating and put me out of my misery.

  It’s going to be a long night.

  ***

  The next couple of days are a blur. I spend most of my time on the couch, crying or distracting myself with TV. I just can’t stop thinking about everything that happened. It keeps running in my head, over and over again.

  There were so many lies, it’s hard to know what was real and what was fake. I can’t even trust my own memory because what I wanted to be and what was truly happening just don’t seem to be meshing up.

  I keep replaying the time I hid in the closet, and everything Andrew said to Tiffany. Was he trying to egg her on to find me? I just can’t tell from what I remember. I remember more of what I was feeling. How scared and confused I was. How upset I was that he just didn’t break it off with her right then and there.

  But then I think about the way he would look at me during my stay with him with such intense emotion in his eyes as if it was so strong he couldn’t conceal it. How could anyone possibly fake that? Not to mention the way he kissed me. When he kissed me, the world would stop spinning, and all that existed in the universe was just him and me.

  How many times did he tell me he loved me? Every time he said it, he said it as if he meant it. He said it as if he was revealing a piece of himself to me, a piece of himself he kept tucked away and hidden.

  Then I think back to how he insisted I call him AJ. Was that his way of keeping it all straight? Separating Andrew and AJ was his way of separating Tiffany and me?

  My phone keeps buzzing inside my purse, I don’t care. I don’t like the world very much right now. It can stay outside while I try to get a grip on myself. I keep trying to wrap my mind around everything that happened, but it only leaves me more confused, upset, and angry.

  I don’t know where the lies end and the truth begins.

  And that’s the real problem, isn’t it? If I knew for certain, the truth, I could feel like I’m capable of making good decisions in my best interest. But all I have is a bunch of he said, she said and my own observations. It’s one big nasty mess. It’s like a knotted ball of yarn. I’m probably better cutting the thread instead of wasting all this time trying to untangle it.

  ***

  I get 48 hours to myself before someone knocks on my door. I’ve cried. I’ve wallowed. I felt sorry for myself. At times, I raged against Andrew. Other times I raged against Tiffany. Now, I mostly blame myself.

  At first, I try to ignore the knocking. I’m not fit for company. After getting home, I changed into my softest pair of sweatpants and my favorite long sleeve SpongeBob t-shirt. I haven’t showered or changed since.

  The knocking is persistent, though. It goes on, nonstop, for at least five minutes. That’s when Andrew starts yelling.

  “Hailey, I know you’re in there. If you don’t open the door I’m going to bust it down.”

  I don’t care. Try, Andrew, go ahead and try, I think. But when my walls rattle and it sounds like he’s throwing his entire body at the door, I have a change of heart. I want my door, I need my door to keep the world out. If he fucks it up, dents it, or gets blood on it, I’ll strangle him with my bare hands.

  I walk up to my door and check the peep hole. At first I don’t see him, then he appears out of nowhere, crashing into it. I shriek and jump back.

  “Hailey?” I hear muffled on the other side.

  “Are you crazy?” I ask shrilly. “What are you doing?

  I keep the security chain latched, unlock my door, and open it a crack. I peek out and Andrew peeks in.

  “Why didn’t you answer the door? You scared the shit out of me,” Andrew huffs, he seems to be a bit winded.

  “Because I don’t want to see you!” I snap and slam the door on him.

  I quickly twist the deadbolt back in place and take a step back.

  “Hailey!” he cries out and starts knocking again.

  “Go away, Andrew! I don’t want to talk to you!” I yell back, but he doesn’t stop knocking. Ugh.

  All I want to do is curl up in my blanket and lay down again. I’m so tired and drained. I feel like I could sleep for years and still be sleepy.

  “Hailey!” he cries out again. He just doesn’t give up. “I know you don’t want to see me, but your mom is worried about you…. And you still have my jacket. My wallet is in my jacket pocket.”

  Of course it is, I bet he planned that. I sigh and search around my apartment for his jacket. I find it on the floor between my living room and the little corner I call my kitchen. After checking the jacket pockets, sure enough, I find his wallet in it.

  I’ll just throw his wallet out and tell him to kiss off.

  I walk back to my door, twist the deadbolt, and crack the door open.

  “Here,” I tell him and squeeze his wallet through the crack.

  I hear the wallet hit the floor.

  “Hailey, can we talk?” he asks, sounding as if he has finally caught his breath.

  “No,” flies past my lips.

  “I’m dying without you.”

  I don’t dignify that statement with an answer.

  Silence stretches between us. It takes me a minute to realize I’m just standing there with the door cracked open. I don’t know why I’m being so careless. It just seems like whenever I get anywhere near him, my IQ plummets.

  It’s just that being near him again, even with a door between us, I’m drawn to him. His force field is sucking me in.

  “I’m worried about you,” he says softly.

  Something inside me aches. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care,” I say angrily and try to push the door shut. It won’t budge. I look down and he’s got the toe of his expensive black shoe jammed in the crack.

  “I care.”

  “Sure you do!”

  “Hailey, please. I promised your mom I would check in on you.”

  That just doesn’t make any sense. As far as I know, my mom and Andrew never speak.

  “You talked to my mom?” I ask, and even to myself my voice sounds small and
squeaky.

  “Yes, she called me because she’s been trying to get ahold of you.”

  Dammit. I assumed it was Andrew calling me so I just ignored my phone when it was blowing up.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told I would check in on you.”

  “You didn’t tell her anything else?”

  He’s quiet for a moment and then he asks, “Anything else?”

  I know he knows what I’m talking about but the way he’s making me explain it makes me feel incredibly awkward. “You know… about us…”

  There’s another minute of heavy silence before he answers, “No. I just promised I would check on you.”

  “Well, you’ve checked on me. Now you can go away.”

  “I wouldn’t be comfortable leaving without seeing you.”

  I groan.

  “I made a promise to her, and I mean to keep it.”

  “I’ll just give her a ring, right now, and tell her I’m okay.”

  “You go ahead and do that. And while you’re at it, I’ll send her a text, letting her know I’m here, and you won’t let me in. Then, you can explain to her why. Or I can, if you like.”

  “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Because I’m worried about you, and just want to make sure you’re alright.”

  I sigh loudly. I don’t have the energy to argue with him all night about this. It’s so silly.

  “I’ll open the door, you can see me, and then you can be on your way. Okay?”

  He doesn’t answer. He’s silent.

  “Okay?” I repeat again and decide to take his nonresponse as compliance. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll open the door, he’ll take one look at me, and run away in fright.

  “Move your foot so I can unchain the door.”

  His foots moves. I slam the door shut a bit harder than needed. I seriously consider just twisting the deadbolt and leaving him there but then if he calls my mom and drags her into this, I’ll be even more miserable.

  I undo the chain, take a deep breath, and open the door. He takes one look at me, his eyes sweeping over me from head to toe. There’s so much pain on his face, I want to scream at him to go away. I don’t get the chance, though, because he just pushes his way through me and walks into my home.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “So this is where you live…” he says more to himself than to me as he looks over my apartment.

  “Get out,” I demand, still standing by the door.

  “I can’t, Hailey,” he says, slowly turning back to face me.

  “Sure you can. It’s easy. You put one foot in front of the other and walk out the door.”

  “I can’t walk away from you.”

  “No,” I say and shake my head. “No, don’t you even. Don’t you dare do this to me. I don’t want to hear it!”

  I know exactly what he’s trying to do. He’s going to start talking, start saying things that make me weak. I can already feel the sting of tears. I’m so frickin sick of crying.

  His face falls as he says, “I’m sorry, baby, I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t stand to see you hurting.”

  “Then leave!” I cry out and wipe at my eyes with my sleeve. “And don’t call me baby!”

  He takes a step toward me and reaches out as if he’s planning on touching me. “I can’t leave, Hailey. I just can’t do it. It’s killing me to be without you. I’ve wanted you for so long. You don’t even know how badly I’ve yearned for you.”

  I look up at the ceiling, trying to hold it together. Trying my best to keep from crying.

  I don’t care, I tell myself. He’s just saying these things to mess with me.

  “I know I told you I would wait for you,” he goes on, “that you could have as long as you need, but I had to come over here and tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

  Breathing deeply, I manage to keep the tears at bay. Looking back down, I focus my gaze on the center of his chest. It’s easier than looking at his face.

  “Okay,” is all I say. It’s all I can say without completely losing it.

  “I have done a lot of shitty things. I’ve done a lot of things to you that you do not deserve. I’ve lied to you, manipulated you, and taken advantage of you. And I am deeply ashamed. I am sorry.”

  Oh, god. He’s apologizing for being an asshole to me. Why isn’t it making me feel better? Why isn’t it giving me any closure? It’s only making it hurt worse.

  “I didn’t do them to hurt you,” he chokes on his own words. He takes a deep breath.

  I feel the first tear trickle down my cheek.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you, Hailey. And I don’t ever expect you to forgive me. But I want you to know I never lied when I said I love you. I love you, Hailey, and I will always love you, even if you do not love me.”

  “Why?” I cry out and the dam holding the rest of my tears at bay breaks. “Why lie to me? Why do all of this? Why lie to me?”

  His voice lowers almost to a whisper and he says as if he’s ashamed, “It was the only way I could get you to love me.”

  My nose stings and my head aches. The tears keep coming, but I scowl at him anyway. “You couldn’t just be honest and upfront with me?”

  “I wanted to be honest and open with you, from the very beginning. But Hailey, every time I tried to get close to you, you made it very clear you weren’t interested in me in that way.”

  I made it clear I wasn’t interested in him in that way? Is he trying to trick me again or something?

  “Don’t you remember,” he prompts me. “We used to get mistaken for a couple all the time.”

  I nod but at the moment, between the tears and the aching, the memories are fuzzy.

  “Every time we’d get mistaken for being together, you’d jump ten feet away from me.”

  I remember now. Often times when we were out somewhere with our parents but our parents weren’t around, we would get mistaken for a couple. We don’t look very much alike and we were obviously together, so people would just assume we were dating. We’d get lots of comments from waitresses that we were cute and the like. I would jump away from him, every time. And I would quickly correct whoever made the mistake. He is my stepbrother. I never dreamed he could possibly have feelings for me in that way.

  He takes another step toward me, “The only way I could get close to you was by making that online profile and reaching out to you as AJ.”

  Just remembering AJ, remembering the full depth of his deception, starts to make me angry. Anger is good. Anger makes the tears stop coming.

  I gave myself to AJ. I told him things, shared with him everything. At times, I even vented about Andrew. He let me do it. Just thinking about it is so damn humiliating.

  “You catfished me.”

  He nods, “I’m sorry.”

  “You blackmailed me.”

  He closes his eyes and nods again. “I’m sorry.”

  “You lied to me. You manipulated me. You tricked me into being the other woman…”

  “No,” he cuts me off forcefully. “You are the only woman, Hailey.”

  “So you’re sticking with the Tiffany is crazy story?”

  “She is crazy.”

  “You’re a womanizer. I can’t even count how many girls I’ve seen you with. Were they all crazy?”

  “I was just trying to fill the void. They meant nothing.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It means,” he says, closing the distance between us. “No one can ever take your place.”

  I can’t take this. It’s too much. He’s pushing himself into my personal bubble. I should run, my door is still open. I could probably make it too. But all I want to do is get closer to him. To take comfort in him. He’s right there, just waiting for me to do it.

  “What do you want from me?” I ask. Why are you torturing me? I won’t look up. I won’t meet his eyes. I focus on that spot on his shirt.

  His hands drop to his sides. I feel a
mixture of regret and relief that he’s not trying to touch me.

  “I want you, Hailey. I want all of you. I want everything. But I don’t deserve it. I don’t even have the right to ask for it. I just hope, that one day, you can forgive me. Can you forgive me?”

  It’s taking every ounce of control I have to keep from breaking down and crying.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” I say softly.

  I wish I could accept all of his apologies, right now and right here. But it’s too fresh, too raw. He’s a self-admitted liar. He could very well still be lying.

  “Is there anything I can do to redeem myself to you?” he asks with his voice trembling.

  I clench my eyes shut. I hate how he’s acting. I hate that he’s showing me that he’s in pain. I don’t want to feel sorry for him. I have to remind myself that he doesn’t deserve my sympathy.

  “You made me feel so stupid. I feel so stupid right now. I’m like the stupidest person to walk on this planet. Ever.”

  “You are not stupid,” he says firmly.

  I shake my head, I completely disagree. “I believed all your lies. I fell for it all. Even after you catfished me.”

  “That doesn’t make you stupid, Hailey. I’m the stupid one. I’m stupid for doing all of this shit. If I would have just told you, if I had the balls to ask you on a date, the proper way, things may have not turned out this way.”

  I can’t do “what ifs” right now. If there’s one thing that is guaranteed to send me down a death spiral of despair, it’s thinking about all the things that could have been done differently. I can’t think about all the things that could be, either.

  “Okay, whatever you say.”

  “Fuck!” he yells out, surprising me. But he’s not yelling it at me. He’s yelling it at the ceiling.

  Before I can process what’s happening, he reaches out to grab me. I flinch and move away.

  “I can’t do this anymore, Hailey. I can’t let things end this way.”

  “Don’t touch me!” I warn him and smack at his hands.

  He grabs me by the arms anyway. “Scream at me. Throw things at me. Fucking punish me. Just do something to me, Hailey,” he pleads.