Chapter 35 35

Chapter 35 35
Chapter 35
A Shirt That Betrays
Clarissa’s POV
I can’t believe that Jonathan is here. What the hell is he doing here? Oh my God, it’s Andrea’s fault, my sister. Maybe, just maybe, she would have told Jonathan that I was here.
Jonathan is someone who loves to go on trips. Maybe he is here again for a short visit. The last time he went for a visit in Atlanta, and now he is here in the same house that I am in with Damien.
It’s not going to be funny, and he shouldn’t find out after everything that Damien told me…not after the both of them trusted each other like best friends, or more like best friends, or even more than step-cousins.
And now I’m his little sister. He’s my older brother, and he can’t find out that Damien has been sleeping with me or has slept with me. He’s going to be mad at him for sure. That’s why I told him to look for a place to hide.
And just as he was about to do that, looking for a place to hide, the door opened. Jonathan walked in, and his eyes widened in shock.
My heart pounded so loud that I could hear the rush of blood in my ears. The floor seemed to sink beneath me as I froze, panic crawling across my skin.
I quickly turned back to check if it was because of Damien that his facial expression was like that, but I didn’t find Damien behind me anymore. Smart move, indeed!
Relief surged through me like a breath I didn’t know I was holding. It’s like he’s hiding somewhere.
In my mind, I whispered desperately, "Damien, just keep on hiding there." Don’t you ever come out. You will be cooked if you do.
I quickly forced a smile, though it came out awkward and stiff, my lips twitching against the tremble of nerves. “Hello, bro Joe,” I said, calling him the way I always did.
My voice shook at first, but I pushed it down. I was nervous. My whole body was restless as I tried to calm down. I needed to calm down, or he was going to find out.
I prayed he wouldn’t notice the way my hands fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. I quickly sat down on the bed, making it seem as if I had just been waking up. I even let out a little fake yawn, though my throat was dry.
Jonathan tilted his head, brows drawn together, but then his face softened. “Hey, my little girl Clarissa. What are you doing in bed? And why is your face like that? Seems like you’ve been stressed by the new school. Don’t worry, that’s how it is the first day at school. Come on, come hug your big brother,” he said warmly.
A wave of relief washed through me. At least, the words I was expecting from him didn’t come…it was something safe and funny that came out instead.
My nerves released a little, though my stomach still knotted. I immediately smiled at him, trying to make it natural this time. I rushed to him and hugged him tightly, pressing my cheek to his chest.
And just immediately, the wave of his familiar scent passed through my nose… His hug was so comforting as he wrapped his hands around me. It almost drowned the guilt suffocating my heart.
I truly missed him a lot!
“I missed you, brother. What are you doing home so early? What are you doing here?” I asked quickly after disengaging the hug, hoping to distract him.
He grinned, ruffling my hair in that annoying but affectionate way. I'm not a kid! “I come home so early, don’t worry. I’m here for a visit. You know I love roaming around, seeing things, going out, and going to parties.” He continued…
“And most of all, I heard that fine girls, pretty girls, are in your school, and I want to come and have a taste. Not the younger ones like you though….” His tone was playful, and he always sounds so mischievous.
My eyes widened, and then I laughed, smacking his arm lightly. “You never change, brother Joe.”
He winked. “And then,” he added with exaggerated drama, “I’m also here to surprise you for the fall break. Why don’t you hug me again? It’s been a long time. It’s so good to see you.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. His smile was genuine, his words dripping with love, and for a moment I almost forgot the storm brewing under the surface. Almost.
I quickly hugged him again, this time longer and tighter, but my eyes betrayed me.
Because while I pressed myself against Jonathan, my gaze slid toward the bed. My breath hitched. My heart skipped. Right there, under the bed, Damien lay flat; his body was as stiff as a board.
He lifted a finger to his lips, his eyes locking with mine. Shush. The signal was clear. My stomach flipped.
I almost laughed out loud, because the sight of Damien, the confident, bold professor of mine, hiding under a bed like a scared kid was ridiculous.
But laughter would kill me right now. I forced myself to hold it in, my lips twitching with the effort. No, I shouldn’t laugh. I should be nervous.
And then Jonathan’s voice slashed through my thoughts.
“Wait. What are you putting on?” His voice dropped, suspicion creeping in. His sharp eyes narrowed, scanning me like a hawk.
My chest tightened.
“That’s not a female dress… Is that a guy’s shirt?” He asked slowly, each word laced with disbelief and a warning.
Cold sweat trickled down my back. My eyes darted down to what I was wearing, and then realization hit me like a thunderbolt. I wasn’t wearing my own dress. No.
I had picked up Damien’s shirt in a rush. It was loose and large on me, with the scent of him still clinging to the fabric. Oh God. Oh God, no.
I scrambled for words; my tongue was heavy and useless. “Oh no, it’s—uhmm…” My voice cracked. I was stammering, tripping over air, my throat suddenly dry. My mind screamed at me to think, to come up with something, but I froze.
Jonathan’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his side. His voice sounded like thunder this time. “Oh God of Mercy, Clarissa, if I find out that you’re fucking with a random frat guy, I swear to God, I’m going to kill him.”
The rage in his tone sliced through me. My stomach churned. His eyes blazed with fury, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t see just my brother, but a man who could be terrifying when it came to protecting me.
“No, no, bro Joe!” I blurted out, desperation in my tone. My hands flew to grab his wrists as if that could calm him. “I’m not, I promise. Don’t you trust me anymore?”
His hard expression softened slightly. He sighed, pressing his hands to my shoulders, gripping me firmly. His eyes bore into mine. “I trust you, Clarissa. You’re my little sister. Of course I do. But then…” He paused, his eyes darting down again at the shirt I was wearing, his brows furrowing deeper. “Whose shirt is that that you’re putting on?”
My throat tightened. I felt Damien’s tension like a wave crawling from under the bed. My eyes darted to him, too quickly, too recklessly. He caught my glance, and even in the shadows, I saw the flash of disappointment across his face. His eyes lowered, his head bowing in quiet despair.
The guilt stabbed into my chest.
“It’s—it’s Damien,” I finally said, my voice trembling. “His shirt.”
Jonathan froze. His entire body stiffened. “Damien?” His tone was sharp, his face startled and utterly confused. “Why are you wearing Damien’s shirt?”
I panicked. My mind spun in circles, trying to stitch a lie together.
Then, suddenly, an idea popped like a lightbulb. “It’s Sunday,” I blurted. “And it’s supposed to be laundry day. You know I’ve been in school all week; I didn’t have time to wash clothes and all of that, so… it’s his clothes. Today’s laundry day for me. I kind of stole it from his room.” I forced a little shrug, pretending it was casual.
But to my disappointment, Jonathan’s face didn’t soften. No, he wasn’t convinced. His expression remained sharp and skeptical.
His eyes narrowed as they roamed around the room, darting from corner to corner, like he had a feeling that someone was here. My heart sank.
“Clarissa,” he said slowly, his tone lower, firmer, and scarier. “You’re my little sister. Don’t forget, I know you a lot. I know when you’re nervous. And right now—you are. You’re acting weird. Firstly, you’re still in bed. It’s late. You sound off, your makeup is still all over your face, and now… you’re putting on Damien’s shirt.”
He stepped closer, his eyes piercing mine, the seriousness in his face tightening my throat.
“What’s going on, Clarissa?” His voice was low, deadly serious. “You can tell me anything. I need you to tell me what is going on right now.”
My breathing hitched. I felt Damien’s body stiffen under the bed; even without looking, I knew it. His tension pressed against me like a weight.
The room grew heavy and suffocating. I quickly removed my eyes from the bed before Jonathan could follow my gaze.
“I… I’m fine,” I stammered, my voice shaking, my heart cracking in my chest. “I’m telling you what the problem is.”
I tried to smile, but my lips trembled. My body was shaking. My palms were clammy. Jonathan’s stare didn’t leave me, sharp, suspicious, protective.
Inside, my heart screamed the truth I could never say.
If only you knew, brother… If only you knew.
God of mercy!