Bound by Sin: My Stepbrother’s Obsession のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

SageI stay on the floor long after the worst of the nausea passes.The cold tile seeps through the thin fabric of my dress, grounding me in a way nothing else can. My knees are pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around them like a shield I don’t fully believe in. My reflection stares back at me from the lower cabinet mirror eyes too wide, skin too pale, lips slightly swollen from vomiting. I look like someone who’s been caught in a storm without shelter.The sink turns on.The sound startles me enough that my shoulders jerk.Ella stands at the counter, her back to me, calmly washing her hands as if this is the most ordinary moment in the world. As if she didn’t just walk into the aftermath of something raw and humiliating. The water runs steadily, warm steam fogging the mirror above the sink.She doesn’t look at me, I watch her instead.Her movements are unhurried, precise. She dries her hands carefully, sets the towel back where it belongs, then reaches into her small clutch and pull

SageThe knock on my door lingered in the air long after it sounded, like it had weight. Like it could crush me if I let it.I didn’t answer right away. I sat on the edge of my bed, my hands folded tightly in my lap, staring at the wood grain of the door as if it might rearrange itself into instructions on what to do next. My heart was beating too fast, my thoughts tripping over each other.Andre was on the other side.“Hey,” he said again, softer this time. “Sage?”I inhaled slowly, then stood. My legs felt unsteady as I crossed the room and wrapped my fingers around the doorknob. For a split second, I considered pretending I wasn’t there. That I had left already. That I was already gone.Instead, I opened the door.Andre stood there with his hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched like he wasn’t sure if he was welcome. He looked different. Lighter, somehow. Rested. His hair was still a little damp, like he’d just showered, and he’d changed into a clean shirt that smelled fai

SageThe city greets me with noise.It’s not the sharp, familiar kind I grew up with honking horns and impatient voices but something bigger, heavier. A constant hum of movement, of lives overlapping and colliding without ever really touching. Even the air feels different here. Colder. Faster. Like it doesn’t care whether I’m ready or not.By the time I drag my suitcase up the narrow steps to the apartment building, my arms ache and my chest feels tight. The building is old but clean, brick walls softened by ivy and years of weather. It smells faintly of detergent and dust, like a place that’s seen too many people come and go to bother remembering any of them.Apartment 3B.I fumble with the keys, my fingers stiff, my mind still somewhere between the airport gate and the plane window where I watched my old life disappear beneath the clouds.The door opens.The apartment is small but bright, sunlight spilling in through wide windows that overlook a street buzzing with traffic and ped

AndreI’m supposed to be happy, enjoying my engagement to the woman I have known most of my life. That’s the thought I keep circling back to, over and over, like if I repeat it enough times it’ll finally sink in and become true.I’m engaged to Ella.The ring is still there on her finger, still catching the light every time she moves her hand, still earning us congratulatory smiles and knowing looks from everyone around us. Our families are thrilled. My mother has already started talking about venues and dates and guest lists, like this is the most natural next step in the world.And maybe it is.Maybe this is exactly how my life was always supposed to go.So why does it feel like I’m unraveling?I sit at my desk, staring at my phone for what feels like the hundredth time today. No new notifications. No missed calls. Nothing. Just the same unanswered messages sitting there like accusations.I scroll up, rereading the last text I sent Sage.I don’t know if you’re ignoring me, but I ho

SageThe moment the call ends, everything inside me unravels.It doesn’t happen all at once. It’s not dramatic or loud. It’s quiet and insidious, like a crack spreading slowly through glass. I sit there on the couch with Theo still asleep against my chest, the TV murmuring nonsense in the background, Maya kneeling in front of me with concern etched into her face and yet I feel completely alone inside my own head.I have to go home.The words repeat over and over, each time heavier than the last.Home means my mother. Home means hospitals and machines and waiting rooms that smell like antiseptic and fear. Home means questions. Home means eyes on me, expectations, assumptions.Home means Andre.My breath stutters at the thought of his name. I don’t say it out loud. I never do anymore. I’ve trained myself not to. But my body reacts anyway, like it remembers him even when I try not to.“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this,” I whisper, staring at nothing.Maya reaches out, resting he