My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 176: Maternal Reassurance

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"I’m fine, Mom. Seriously," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "The party was just... a bit much. And honestly, I didn’t get the best sleep afterward."

Mom reached out and gently ruffled my hair, just like she used to when I was young and came home crying from school or with a scraped knee. Her fingers lingered a bit, smoothing my hair down, but there was a hint of sadness in her smile...her lips turned up, but her eyes didn’t match.

The soft light from the lamp made her features look gentle as well, but it couldn’t hide those worry lines that had started showing up more frequently lately.

"I know Keith told me to chill, but I just can’t help it," she said softly, mixing that familiar motherly love with a touch of frustration. "Worrying is pretty much part of the job description."

She let her hand drop to her lap, twisting her wedding ring like she often did since marrying Keith. "You used to tell me everything, Noah. We’d sit on the couch of our tiny apartment, ice cream in hand, and talk for hours—about school, boys, and that ridiculous teacher who couldn’t pronounce ’espionage’ right, remember?"

A little laugh slipped out, filled with nostalgia and some pain. "But ever since we moved here, it’s like there’s this gap. Like one day, I turned around, and my little boy had built a wall that I just can’t seem to get over."

Her words weighed heavily in my chest because she was right. Moving into this mansion had changed everything—new rooms, new routines, new people. Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped sharing the little things, then the medium ones, and now the big, life-changing stuff that felt like it was about to overflow out of me like a suitcase that couldn’t close.

"I know it’s my fault," she continued, her eyes glimmering in the dim light. "I got so caught up in being a new wife—helping Keith with the company’s gala, flying to meetings about investments, decorating this crazy house like it’s out of a magazine. I see now that I haven’t been around like I should be."

She took my hand, squeezing it gently, her touch warm and familiar.

"But I need you to remember we’re still a team, you and me. Always. Mom and her wonderful son against the world. So if something’s bothering you, if anything feels off, heavy, or confusing...don’t carry it alone. You can talk to me. No judgment, no lectures, just me listening, like always."

Her sincere tone nearly broke me. My throat tightened, and for a scary moment, I thought I might spill everything the party, the fear, Adrien’s rescue, those kisses that still lingered on my lips, the guilt and desire tangled inside me.

But I swallowed it all back, forcing a small smile that felt fragile.

"Things are good now, Mom," I said, the lie bitter on my tongue. "Honestly. I just... don’t have anything big to say right now."

Her shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly, the hope fading from her eyes as she deflated. I felt awful for it—for shutting her out when she was trying so hard, for making her think that gap was impossible to bridge when part of me wished I could just curl up in her lap like I did when I was ten and let her fix everything.

She looked at me for a long moment, clearly not entirely convinced. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Even if it’s embarrassing or scary or you think I’ll freak out. Especially if I’ll freak out," she laughed a bit self-consciously. "I promise I’ll try to keep my reactions in check."

I managed a small smile, brittle at the edges. "I know. And if anything was truly wrong, I’d tell you, I promise."

It felt like a lie dressed in truth, and it tasted awful.

Mom sighed, squeezing my hand again. "Okay. I’ll take your word for it...for now. But I’m your mom, so I still get to worry."

Then she added playfully, "And I’m also really happy you and Adrien are finally getting along, even if it’s baby steps. I told you things would work out between you two."

Oh, mom... if only you knew how un-sibling-like those steps had been just a little while ago.

She stood up, smoothing her skirt before leaning down to kiss the top of my head. "Get some rest, sweetheart. You look like you need it. And maybe tomorrow you can tell me about that dragon book—I’m always on the lookout for something new to read."

"Yeah," I said softly. "Maybe."

She sighed, a gentle sound, and then put on a brighter smile that didn’t quite hide the hurt.

"Okay," she said softly, pulling me into a hug that smelled of her familiar rose perfume and a hint of red wine from dinner. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, one hand stroking my back in slow circles.

She pressed a warm kiss to my cheek, lingering a moment longer than usual, then stood up and smoothed her blouse again. "Goodnight, love," she whispered, kissing my forehead like she always did. "Sleep well."

The door clicked shut behind her with a quiet finality, and the room fell silent, except for the faint hum of the heater and my own uneven breathing. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the place where she had just been, guilt settling over me like a heavy blanket.

Mom was really trying, and I just kept pushing her away to protect secrets that would shatter her heart if they ever came to light.

I flopped back onto the pillows, pulling the comforter up to my chin, staring at the ceiling as the house settled around me. Somewhere down the hall, Adrien was probably doing the same, lying awake, mulling over everything we’d done and all the things we couldn’t take back.

If there were an award for worst son on the planet... I’d definitely take first place, no issue from the judges when it came to deciding who would win.