Stepbrother Affairs (The Monroe Family Secrets Book 3) (4 page)

Audrey

              I stood at the bottom of the steps at Fiumicino airport in Rome. My friend Rebecca had two large bags wheeled behind her as she let out a gust of air from her lungs. She originally planned to stay with me for just the first month of my travels. However, after a couple of weeks, she decided to stay, and pushed back her University enrollment to the spring quarter.

              “Just think about it,” Rebecca said shifting the weight of her bags next to her thin body. “We didn’t argue once the entire time we traveled together!”

              “That’s not entirely true,” I smiled. “I thought I was going to kill you inside of Prada in Milan when you grabbed the last pair of the sunglasses I wanted.”

              “You’re right!” she responded. “Good thing there was a shop in Florence that had them. Not that you didn’t borrow mine every day until we got you a pair; you always get your way!”

              “Don’t try and make me feel sorry for you,” I joked. “You only came with one small bag, and now you’re stuffed to the brim with new clothes! Not to mention the ones you had shipped to your parents’ house.”

              Rebecca and I laughed for nearly a ten minutes as we recanting a few of more humorous stories from our trip.

              “I’ll miss you,” she said with a lonesome expression.

              “Awe,” I cooed as I stepped toward her. My arms wrapped around Rebecca’s tiny frame. “I’ll miss you, too.”

              “Be safe,” she smiled as she pulled away. “I expect to see you posting tons of pictures so that I know you’re alive!"

              “I will,” I sighed. Then she turned around and made her way toward the escalator.

              “Good bye,” she smirked with puffiness flushing toward her eyes.

              “
Ciao
!” I waved as I watched her drift out of sight. The past six months with Rebecca were clean getaway from the craziness that ensued after the police invaded the estate. Michael packed his bags and left two days later. My father, however, kept his cool the entire time.

              The police marched around him as though he were their captain. Every question was carefully asked as if not to upset the most powerful man in the county. I, on the other hand, went into a depression. Sebastian shut the world out, and, therefore, me as well. I stayed until the very end of my invite and had a car take me to the airport. The police questioned me, but everyone seemed to believe that Darla was a runaway.

              I received a call from Michael a few months prior in my hotel room. According to him, Lydia moved out off of the estate. She and my father were planning a trial separation, claiming that they were irretrievably broken after the tragedy. Michael also stated that our father graciously paid for Darla’s funeral costs. Her family was happy and content with the generous offer. The entire situation was sickening to Michael and me. We both agreed never to speak of it again.

              Still not ready to return home, I continued my plan to stay abroad for a while. Knowing that Rebecca was leaving caused me anxiety. The only gleam of hope came for me a few weeks ago. Like a ghost come back to life, I received an e-mail that made my heart catch fire again.

              After Rebecca had left, I waited patiently in the airport for over an hour until I saw him standing at the ledge of an escalator step. His hair appeared to be longer than before was tucked inside of a black beanie. As soon as my eye’s met Sebastian’s, I felt the world stop.

              We wasted no time rushing toward each other in the airport. He lifted me high off of the ground and kissed me on the mouth. His warm smell returned to me, invading my senses.

              “I missed you so much,” I said with teary eyes.

              “Don’t worry,” he said with his famous, gleaming smile. “I’ve got you now and forever.”

The End.

About the Author

Lauren Branford has traveled the world, meeting people from all walks of life. For Miss Branford, writing is more than expressive, it is liberating. Scribing subjects on matters that society has deemed racy and prohibited are the most delicious treats from her library.
Lauren Branford currently holds residence in California.

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