One Roof With My Step-Brother.

LET THE SLEEPING DOG LIE.

“If you think I’m okay now and this is the time to get me close to your husband and act like a doting daughter to him, better think again, because I’m not doing any of that.’ I blurted out, and as I sarcastically said to her stunned expression,

Whatever she does, there’s always a motive for it, and I can never trust her.

“Come on, Ivy,’ she groaned. “Why don’t you like taking things easy? You are making life so hard; you have to take stuff very easy; don’t be so uptight,’ she said, and my eyes widened at what she just said to me, like, seriously.

Did she just say those words to my face that I’m making life so hard? Who the hell does she think she is to tell me how to do this or that in life, and since when was she so indulged in my life?

She continued. “Yes, you are making things so hard, Ivy. You’ve got to stop this attitude of yours and get to know him; he’s not that bad if you try to know him, and besides, he’s your father and he wants to know you,’ she persuaded.

“He’s not my father, mom; he’s my stepfather,’’ I emphasized the last word. “Yes, he is my stepfather, and he has no right to come out of nowhere and wants to be my father. He has no right, and besides, I don’t want a father, and he will never be my father.” I boldly uttered, gave my head a little shake, and almost smirked.

“Are you sure you have brain cells in you, at all? I mean, what is wrong with you? You can’t be this ungrateful to a man who pays the bills."

“Mom, I don’t give a f**k if he paid the f*****g bills; he did it for you and not for me, so stop involving me in it; I don’t want any part of it,’ I said.

“Mind your language,’ she strictly warned.

“I know. I know that, mom, but I still don’t want to play any part in it,’ I argued.

“You don’t want any part in it, right?’ She threw the napkin she was holding on the floor, glared at me, and snapped.

I guess she was more pissed than I thought she was.

“The roof over your head, he’s the one paying for it; the food you eat in this house, he’s the one paying for it; the light, the electronics you use, the water you use, the air conditioner you enjoy in your room, he is the one. He paid for everything—the place you f*****g stay—he paid for everything in this house and even made sure he brought new things in this house to make us comfortable,’ she explained.

She was fed up with me; getting furious and flickering at me wouldn’t help, yet she continued.

“He did everything to make you comfortable; is this how you are going to repay him for what he had done for you? You ungrateful child,’ she cursed.

She noticed the strands of her hair kept coming to her face.

She then used a black rubber to tie her hair, making it into a ponytail with those red artificially long nails she fixed on her fingers.

And man, could this day get any worse?

“And how’s that, my business? I never asked him for anything. He did it willingly, of his own free will, so whatever he did was for you and to make you happy, not me, Mom. Stop trying to put the both of us together, Mom; I don’t like it.”

“I should stop trying to put the both of you together; why not? Why won’t I try to put the both of you together? Why won’t I? He’s the one who made everything happen; if not for him, we would have been thrown out of this house by now and be on the streets. He’s kind and patient enough; don’t be like this to him. Just because he’s been patient with you doesn’t mean you have to take advantage of that because he’s a generous man. Once we get married, he’s going to take us out of here, and then we move to a bigger mansion. He’s taking care of us, trying to take care of you, and adopting you as his daughter. So, this is how you are going to treat him. Can you stop being a brat? Don’t you have any conscience? Is that how cold you are to that extent? What is wrong with you, for crying out loud? What kind of child did I give birth to, for f*****g sake? What is wrong with you, Ivy?!’ She nags, narrating every stupid word to me.

“You are the one that is wrong here; there is nothing wrong with me, but you are the one that doesn’t want to reason with me here. You keep saying, try to be like a daughter to him and accept him as my father. Why the hell should I do that? Did you ever ask me what I wanted? You constantly do things your own way; I am not some tool you can just jog around; I am human with feelings; don’t ask me to do things your own way. Oh, because he does the expenses here, well, that’s not being generous to me, because he did that for a reason. If you haven’t given him some pussycat to f**k and lick the hell out of your anus, he won’t pay the damn bills; after all, you always like to f**k and seduce a lot of men, get them in your bed, snitch them out of their money, then ditch them; what else do you do apart from that?” I paused, and when I felt a hard slap across my face, I quickly held my left cheek with my left hand as my gaze fell on her.

“I’ve had enough from you, Ivy. Enough is enough, you ungrateful daughter. You dare to say that to my face: After everything I did for you, is this how you choose to repay me? After what I went through because of you?” She yelled and pointed her fingers at my face.

I scoffed and dropped my hand from my cheek. “What did you go through because of me, sleeping with men and bringing them home after getting drunk and f*****g with them all day? Is that what you went through because of me? You never took care of me; you only cared about yourself.” I felt another slap across my face; this one was harder than before.

I f*****g hate this.

“You slapped me,’ I boldly said, with no slight pain showing in the way I spoke to her. She slapped the f**k out of me; when was the last time she slapped me, anyway?

“And I will slap you again and again; you have no right to talk to me in such a manner; I carried you for nine months and gave birth to you; I’m your mother, and you have to give me that much respect,’ she yelled, and I still dropped my hand and started chuckling.

“My mother, my ass, indeed. You? Carried me for nine months to fuck.’ I silently muttered.

Who did she think I was? Anyway, I don’t care how she suffered in giving birth to me; how am I even sure that she is my biological mother? Suffering for me and all that, I never told her to do those disgusting things for me. She did it out of her own free will; no one forced her into doing it.