Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Jonathan woke up with a pounding headache as the familiar ache of a hangover settled in. His mouth was dry, and his body felt heavy as he groaned, pushing himself up from the bed. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, too bright for his liking, and he squinted against it, shielding his eyes with his hand.
“Ugh… what time is it?” he muttered, glancing at his phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with missed calls and messages–none of which he was in the mood to check right now. His head was still spinning, remnants of last night’s drinking clinging to his thoughts like cobwebs.
He stumbled out of bed, feeling the weight of the previous night bearing down on him. Flashes of Eunice’s furious face came to him–her words, her slap, the sound of her heels clacking as she stormed out of the club. He rubbed the side of his face where she had slapped him, still feeling the sting, though it was his pride that hurt more.
“Why did I mention Laura?” he groaned, realizing that was the trigger for the whole mess. He walked to the bathroom, turning on the tap and splashing cold water onto his face. It didn’t help much.
As he stood there, gripping the edges of the sink, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His bloodshot eyes stared back, and he barely recognized the man looking at him–disheveled hair, tired expression, a hollow emptiness beneath the surface.
“You’re a mess, Jonathan,” he muttered under his breath.
He knew it was true, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He had a girlfriend who just broke up with him and a best friend who’s currently avoiding him. But as usual, he brushed it off. That was his coping mechanism–laugh it off, party harder, avoid
responsibility.
He grabbed a towel and dried his face, trying to shake off the grogginess. But even as the cold water cleared his head, the
reality of his situation settled in.
Jonathan groaned as the pounding in his head only grew worse while he dragged himself out of the bathroom. He needed a strong cup of coffee–something to clear his foggy mind. Dressing in a pair of sweatpants and a plain T–shirt, he glanced in the mirror, running a hand through his messy hair. He still looked presentable, or at least enough to face the world. Satisfied, he grabbed his car keys and headed downstairs, eager for the caffeine fix waiting at his usual café.
As he descended the stairs, however, a quiet murmuring reached his ears. His family was gathered in the living room–his mother, father, and younger sister Tabitha–all speaking in hushed tones, the air tense as if they were discussing something they didn’t want him to overhear. Jonathan paused for a second on the bottom step, watching them curiously.
The moment Tabitha spotted him, her eyes widened slightly, and she quickly cleared her throat. It was a clear signal to their parents to stop talking. The discreet conversation came to a sudden halt, and they all straightened up, pretending like they hadn’t just been whispering about something important. His father shifted in his seat, and his mother gave a too–bright
smile, her hands nervously fiddling with a magazine on her lap.
“Morning,” Jonathan mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. The atmosphere was thick with awkwardness, and he could feel
the tension radiating from them. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this spoken quietly as if trying to keep something from him–but today, it felt more obvious, like they were deliberately avoiding letting him in on whatever was happening.
“Morning, son,” his father replied, his tone too casual. His mother nodded in agreement, offering a weak, “Good morning, Jonathan Late night?”
Tabitha just gave him a brief glance before she busied herself with her phone, trying to appear uninterested, though her body language gave her away. Jonathan could tell they had been talking about him, or at least something that involved him.
“Yeah… something like that,” Jonathan replied, his voice low. He wasn’t in the mood to pry, especially not with the headache that was already doing a number on him, but their behavior stuck with him. “I’m heading out for some coffee,” he added, trying to cut the awkwardness.
“Coffee sounds good,” his father said, leaning back in his chair, but there was something about his tone. Jonathan could feel
Chapter 9
+25 BONUS
his mother’s gaze on him, her lips pressed together in a thin line, as if she wanted to say something but didn’t know how.
Before anyone could offer to join him or prolong the strained conversation, Jonathan turned on his heel and headed for the door. His hand gripped the keys tighter, an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach.
As soon as he stepped outside, he paused for a moment as his brows furrowed.
What were they talking about? And why did it feel like they were walking on eggshells around me?
Shaking off the thought, he slid into his car and started the engine.
But still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever his was family talking about without him, it directly concerned him. Without another moment of hesitation, he turned the car off and stepped back inside the house.
As he walked in, the air shifted, the energy in the room tensing as his family noticed his sudden return. His parents exchanged nervous glances, while Tabitha, caught off guard, stared at him with wide eyes.
“Jonathan? You’re back already?” his mother asked, her voice too light, too forced.
He scanned their faces, suspicion creeping in. “Yeah,” he said, his tone flat. “I forgot something.”
His father leaned forward slightly in his chair with a flicker of apprehension passing through his expression. “Is everything alright, son?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the strain.
Jonathan folded his arms and stood in the middle of the room, his gaze moving between them. “No. But you tell me. What were you all talking about earlier?” he asked directly, not bothering to dance around the tension.
His mother shifted uncomfortably, her smile faltering. “Oh, it’s nothing, dear, just some… family matters.”
“Family matters?” Jonathan echoed, raising a brow. “Because it looked like you were having a conversation you didn’t want
me to hear.”
Tabitha shot a glance at their parents, her lips pressing together tightly. “Jonathan, it’s really nothing-”
“Enough,” Jonathan interrupted, his patience thinning. “What’s going on? Just tell me.”
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. His father sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as if bracing himself for something. His mother finally looked at him, her eyes soft with concern.
“It’s your older brother. He arrived earlier this morning.”
Jonathan flinched at the mention of his brother. The brother he had long hated. The brother he was always compared to–the one who excelled at everything, who always outshined him. Jonathan clenched his fists subtly, the familiar surge of anger rising within him. The perfect son, his mind taunted. Better grades, better looks, better at everything.
He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, masking his emotions behind a cool exterior. “That’s it?” he asked, forcing
a casual tone, even though his heart pounded in his chest. His voice didn’t betray the bitterness stirring within.
His family seemed to buy it. His mother gave him a small, relieved smile. “Yes, dear. He’s here to help with some business matters. We weren’t trying to keep it from you… we just didn’t want to overwhelm you first thing in the morning.”
Jonathan nodded stiffly. “I see,” he muttered, keeping his gaze lowered to avoid meeting their eyes. Overwhelm me? he thought bitterly. As if. We’re not kids anymore. I’m not the same lousy brother he once had.
