My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 475

Chapter 475

Mom lowered her head, “Gianna…”

“No,” my chest hurt, “I don’t understand.”

Claire pushed her chair back, and came towards me, “Hey, come here, your mom is attached to you.”

I laughed weakly, “Attached?”

“Yes.”

“Claire, I’m going to live ten minutes away.”

“I know.”

“Then why is everyone acting like I’m moving to another country?”

Maddie came over and squeezed my hand, “Did something happen?”

I frowned, “What?”

“Did somebody say something to you?”

“No.”

“Are you unhappy here?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again because the answer was complicated.

No, I wasn’t unhappy, that was the problem. I loved this family, I have grown to love this house. I loved breakfast at this table. I loved movie nights. I loved Claire. I loved Maddie.

I loved all of them.

And that was exactly why I needed to leave.

My eyes drifted across the table, straight to Raphael. He was already watching me. My heart immediately betrayed me again.

God.

I was so tired, so tired of seeing him every day, so tired of hearing his voice, so tired of wanting things I could never have.

I needed distance, I needed space, I needed a chance to forget because staying here meant watching him become my brother, watching him become family, watching him belong to me in every way except the one that mattered.

I couldn’t do it.

“Gianna,” Maddie’s voice pulled me back, “What is it?”

I shook my head, “Nothing.”

I looked away. Claire exchanged a look with Maddie, then back at me.

“Honey,” Claire’s voice softened even more, “People don’t suddenly decide to move out overnight.”

I swallowed, “Maybe they do.”

Then Mom spoke, very quietly, “Gianna.”

I looked at her immediately. She wasn’t crying anymore. She held her hands together in her lap so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

“Do you really want to know why?”

I nodded.

The moment the words left my mouth, pain flashed across Mom’s face.

“You’re trying to make me stay.”

“Gianna.”

“No,” I shook my head harder, “No. It’s your spine.”

Because this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. My mother had a bad back, a damaged spine. That’s what all the doctors said. That was the explanation. That was something I understood.

This wasn’t.

Mom reached for my hand. Her fingers trembled, “Bambina. My spine is fine.”

I stared at her, “What?”

Mom swallowed, a tear slid down her cheek, “My spine is fine.”

The knot in my stornach tightened, something cold spread through my chest, “What are you talking about?”

She looked down at her hands and Salvatore’s hand immediately settled over hers.

When she looked back up, her eyes were red, “I have ALS.”

The letters meant nothing, absolutely nothing. I blinked, “No, you don’t!”

Mom’s lips trembled, “My body is slowly stopping. My muscles don’t work the way they should anymore. It means eventually-”

“No.”

The word tore out of me because I didn’t want to hear the rest. I didn’t want the sentence finished. I didn’t want the explanation. I didn’t want any of it.