Claimed By My Stepbrother

I don’t want to be the horrible daughter who stands in the way of her mom’s happiness. Seriously, I don’t. But when she dropped that bomb on me, I couldn’t keep my cool. “What the f**k do you mean you’re getting married, Mom?” I blurted out before I could even think to filter my words. My voice came out way louder than I intended, and her eyes snapped up, meeting mine with a look that clearly said she didn’t appreciate the tone. But, come on—she had just blindsided me with this whole getting-married news, and she expected me to what? Clap my hands and throw her a party? “No curse words, Camila,” she chided, almost calmly, as if we were talking about the weather and not her dropping an emotional grenade on me. She set down a plate on the dining table, patting it like this was all normal. “He’s a good guy, and I’m sure you’ll like him.” “‘Good guy’? That’s all you’re giving me here?” I scoffed, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Who is he, Mom? Where did he come from? Are you sure about this?” My voice was laced with desperation because this was starting to feel like a bizarre dream—no, scratch that, a nightmare. She sighed, clearly unimpressed by my dramatics, as she continued setting the table. “Yes, Camila, I’m sure. And his name is Greg. We’ve been dating for over a year.” A year?! My jaw nearly hit the floor. “And you never thought to mention him once?” I demanded, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “I thought we told each other everything!” “Camila, you were busy with school and your friends. And I wanted to be sure it was serious before I introduced him to you,” she explained, like that somehow made it all better. I just stared at her, dumbfounded. My mom had been a single mother for as long as I could remember. I never met my dad, and honestly, it never really bothered me. Mom made sure I didn’t lack anything; she was my everything. I got used to it being just us, and somewhere along the line, I had settled into the idea that this was our forever dynamic—just the two of us against the world. And now, out of nowhere, she wanted to bring in some guy named Greg? Mom must’ve seen the look on my face because she reached out, patting my hand. “Sweetheart, you’ll love him. And he has a son, so you’ll finally have a sibling,” she said, her face lighting up like this was the best news in the world. “Isn’t that great?” My brain short-circuited for a moment. A sibling? She was throwing that into the mix too? “You’re telling me I’m supposed to just...accept this guy as my new dad and his kid as my sibling? Mom, this isn’t one of your romance novels!” She chuckled, which honestly just made me feel worse. “Camila, you’re overreacting. I’m not asking you to think of him as your dad. I know it’s a big change, but he makes me happy. Can’t you at least give him a chance?” I wanted to argue, to tell her that this was way too much, way too fast, and that I wasn’t ready for this kind of change. But then I looked at her, really looked at her. My mom looked...happy. Happier than I had seen her in a long time. She was practically glowing as she talked about this Greg guy, and I could see something in her eyes that softened the edges of my frustration. She deserved to be happy. But did that mean I had to be okay with this? “I don’t know, Mom,” I muttered, looking down at the table. “It just...it feels weird. Like, we’re supposed to be a team, you and me. What if he changes everything? What if it’s not the same?” She gave me a small, understanding smile and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “It will always be you and me, Camila. No one can change that. But this doesn’t mean we can’t let other people in too.” I took a deep breath, my chest tight with conflicting emotions. I wanted to be happy for her, I really did. But this was a lot to process. “Does his son know about all this?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. Mom nodded. “Yes, he knows. He’s around your age, actually. His name is Ethan.” I raised an eyebrow. “Great. So now I’m supposed to get along with some random guy I’ve never met before? You really are asking for a lot here, you know that?” Mom laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’ll be fine, Camila. Just give it a try. For me?” She looked so hopeful, so... vulnerable, and it twisted something in my chest. I wanted to scream, to tell her this wasn’t fair, but I could see that this wasn’t just about me. For once, I had to put her first. “Fine,” I mumbled reluctantly, “I’ll try. But I’m not promising anything.” She hugged me, squeezing a bit tighter than usual, like she was reassuring both of us. “Thank you, sweetheart. That means a lot.” Later that night, as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change in a way I wasn’t ready for. Greg and his son, Ethan. Just the thought of them moving into our world felt intrusive, like they were strangers barging into our little bubble. And what if they took up too much space? What if I got lost in all this? I sighed, rolling over and hugging my pillow. This was happening whether I liked it or not. I didn’t want to be the selfish daughter who couldn’t let her mom be happy. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if things were ever going to feel normal again. Because this wasn’t just about Greg. It was about the life my mom and I had built together—just us, against everything. And now, with these strangers coming in, it was like that world was slipping through my fingers, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. All I could do was hope that maybe, just maybe, this new world wouldn’t be as scary as it felt. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t a promise anyone could make.