This is a fictional story and all the characters are above 18.
And thank you BriM_0261
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I am Lucas, and I was two months from the end of my last year of high school when I lost my father in an accident. He had been a rock to me, giving me everything that I could ask for. After losing him, my whole world fell apart, though I was determined to stay strong for my mother. I love her more than a son ever could, but only I knew it and kept it buried deep inside of me. I took care of the funeral while my mother stayed holed up in the house. She was totally oblivious. She kept on drinking and smoking. I tried to speak to her, but she just dismissed my attempts.
She drank and smoked throughout the house, and I cleaned up after her mess. Sometimes I had to take her to bed when she fell asleep at the dining table or on the sofa. It broke my heart to see my mother in this state. She was once a radiant woman, full of life and energy, but now just two months after my father’s death she was merely a shell of her former self. I knew I had to stay strong for her, but it felt like I was losing my mother too. Not being able to do anything for her, I thought maybe giving her space for a few days would be better.
And with my final days of school approaching, I had my own worries—exams and all. With my best effort, I finished my exams. Only I knew that what I put in was the bare minimum, just enough to escape the hell of school. Not to brag, but I had been an exceptional student. Losing my father and my mother, who was totally unstable, sent me on a losing streak. Still, I managed to pull myself together and passed the exams in the end.
As summer began, my friends had it all planned out, full of parties, girls, and alcohol, but I wasn't interested in them as my mind was occupied with my mother.
Shortly after I graduated, surprisingly, she had started going out, all dressed up. I never really had the chance to talk to her about it, but while I was busy with my job, taking care of our house, shopping, and everything else, she took the money from my dad's insurance and began using it up. Mother had given me the login credentials for her online bank account so I could handle the household bills and stuff, and I could see the one big deposit and the many, many withdrawals. I decided to let her be. I desperately wanted her to recover and she seemed to start coming around. She drank less, showered more, helped a little around the house, and wore some new clothes. I was happy to see it.
Around the same time as Mother seemed to be recovering, one of my father's friends, Jeremy, who owns a carpentry business, offered me a job. I had done a little woodworking with Dad, and he taught me a lot plus I still had his tools. Jeremy said he’d teach me everything I needed to know about carpentry. Work was good, with a lot of jobs coming in. Jeremy and his family had been in the industry for years, and they had an excellent reputation, which brought in a lot of clients. Soon I was earning decent money.
After I started making money, I bought groceries, learned to cook, and even prepared meals for my mother and served them in her room when she was home. But even when she was, she treated the things I did as things that I should be doing as the man of the house now. She didn’t really appreciate my efforts, and when she was home, she thought I should take care of her.
One day, I had been away at a job site in the town next to ours, and after being done for the day, I returned home to find a car parked in the lawn. For sure, I knew that car didn't belong to anyone I knew, so parking my car next to that one, I walked to the door, wondering who it was.
Entering through the door, I saw my mother sitting with a man. He seemed to be a few years older than her, and she was sitting close to him. Frowning upon seeing the scene in front of me, questions crept into my mind.
Seeing my confused look, my mother held his hand and said, "Son, meet Robert, my husband, your stepfather."
"Stepfather?" My brain was not braining; it was too much for me to see my mother with another man and so close together.
Even when my father was alive, sometimes I used to get jealous seeing them cuddling in front of me, and I would just leave the room, thinking that my thoughts were wrong and disgusting. The way I felt about my mother was taboo, but I could never get over it. I tried to ignore those thoughts as much as I could. I like to think no one saw those feelings in me, but I still had them.
There was one time though. I clearly remember the talk I had with my father. I think he noticed me looking at his wife and how I gazed at her passionately, like a man does. He didn't berate me or show any anger for having feelings like that towards his wife—my mother. He just talked with me like a friend and helped me understand that it was just a phase and I would soon get over it.
But my father didn’t know that the feelings only got stronger the more I grew up with them. I just got better at hiding them.
I had much more selfish and vile thoughts after my father died, and thought now that my father wasn’t around, I could be her man. I could be with her. That's how I perceived it. But after realizing what I was thinking and remembering my father, I felt disgusted with myself. Should I be thinking like that about the man and woman who raised me? I didn't know; I had no one to talk to. It was just me and my own thoughts.
I didn't let my intrusive thoughts win. I tried my best to be there for her, got a job, took care of the bills, and maintained the house while she healed. But I didn't see this coming.
And, of course, she would be looking for another man. But my father passed away just four months ago. How could she move on so quickly? They seemed like a charming couple who were deeply devoted to each other.
"What did you say?" I could barely hear my voice.
My mother, still holding his hands, said, "We got married. We met last month and hit it right off. I hope you can understand and be happy for us."
I think something happened to my brain as her words seemed to slow down and my mind was racing with a mix of emotions. It might sound like I’m exaggerating, but that was how I felt at the moment. I thought she was just trying to relax, getting dressed up and going out all those times, maybe meeting her old friends again.
Yeah, I was an idiot, not to put two and two together—dressing up, going out, spending money. My love for her had blinded me. I mean, it had been hard for me, when my father was around, to ignore my thoughts, but if my father was the one who had been with her, I could handle it. But not another man.
And how could she marry without even saying anything to me? Did she even consider me? Before I blew up at her, I asked, trying to suppress my tone, "Answer me, Mom? Did you hook up with this man right after my father's funeral?"
Her expression was all wide-eyed innocence and she said, "Well, it happened when I was out with my friends. He seemed really nice, and he was such a gentleman. I thought it would be a mistake if I missed him, so we started seeing each other, and he proposed."
Man! She was talking so much that I was gonna blow up, but I asked, straining my voice, "Did you not think of me, to ask me before you decided to marry him? Or you thought I was also dead, like my father?"
"Lucas!" she shouted as she got up.
"Yes, Mom?"
Then there was that invisible man, whom I had been trying to ignore from the moment I entered the house. He interrupted and said, "Son, try to listen to your mother and see what she has to say."
My eyes turned to him, and I said, in a quiet, menacing voice, "I am not your son, and it would be better for you to keep your mouth shut."
"Lucas!"
I looked back at her as her hand slapped my cheek. She slapped me on the left cheek, in front of that man, who was now looking smug. What the fuck!
"Don't you dare talk to my husband like that!"
"DAMN IT, MOM, what the hell happened to you? Husband? What about my father?"
