My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 168: Victim Blaming

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I saw him lower himself onto the edge of the couch across from me, the fancy upholstery creasing under his weight as if even the furniture could feel the heaviness between us.

The room was quiet in that way that only fancy houses tend to be...too big, too polished, every sound muffled by plush carpets and soaring ceilings. I wrapped both hands around my teacup, letting the warmth seep into my fingers despite still trembling faintly.

Ethan ran his hand through his already-messy hair and let out a slow breath, like he’d been holding it for way too long. "My uncle wouldn’t let me leave," he finally said, his voice rough and low. "He... he banned me from going out."

I frowned, tightening my grip on the cup. "Banned you?" I echoed, almost in disbelief.

He nodded, his jaw clenching as he looked down at the floor between us. "Because of my past ’misbehaviors,’" he said, bitterness thick in his tone, his fingers curling into the fabric of his jeans. "You know how he is. One mistake and it’s like I’m a criminal in waiting."

I couldn’t help but huff out a small, humorless laugh before I could think twice. "Your uncle is a real bitch," I muttered, staring down into the amber-colored tea as if it might swallow my frustration.

Despite it all, Ethan’s lips twitched into a faint, tired smile for just a moment. "Yeah," he said softly. "He really is."

But the smile faded fast. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, looking smaller somehow. "I had to wait," he went on, his voice tight with frustration. "He was drinking and watching some stupid football game, yelling at the TV like usual. I couldn’t risk it while he was still up." He swallowed hard. "I waited until he was completely passed out. Then I left."

The thought of him sitting there, trapped and waiting while I was out there alone twisted something painfully in my chest. "That’s why you were late," I murmured, more to myself.

He nodded again. "I took off the second I could. I swear I did." His eyes finally found mine, wide and sincere, filled with regret. "My phone died on the way, Noah. I tried calling, tried texting, but it just... shut off. By the time I got to Jace’s and saw Adrien, my heart just—" He paused, shaking his head. "I thought I was too late."

I let out a slow breath, the anger I’d been holding morphing into something heavier and sadder. "Figures," I said quietly, forcing out a small chuckle that didn’t quite reach my heart. "Worst timing ever."

Ethan shifted closer, his knee brushing mine, careful, like he didn’t want to scare me. "I’m so sorry," he said again, but this time it felt different, deeper, like those words were etched into him. "I should’ve found a way. I should’ve been there no matter what."

His voice trembled just a bit. "I’ll never leave your side again. Not if I can help it. I don’t care what my uncle or anyone else says. I’m staying. As long as you want me to."

I stared at my cup, watching the steam curl up, my chest aching with a mix of gratitude, exhaustion, and something dangerously close to relief. "You don’t have to chain yourself to me," I said softly, even though part of me craved that very thing. "I just... needed to understand."

He reached out then, tentatively brushing his fingers against mine like he was asking for permission without saying a word. When I didn’t pull away, his hand closed around mine gently, warm and steady. "I’m here now," he said quietly. "And I’m not going anywhere."

I nodded, squeezing his hand back, even though my heart felt impossibly heavy, knowing that being here wouldn’t erase what had already happened.

My fingers tightened around the teacup until the porcelain felt like it might crack under the pressure, the warmth seeping into my palms doing nothing to calm the storm inside my chest. I stared into the amber liquid, watching it tremble slightly with the shakes of my hands, and before I knew it, the words just slipped out.

"How do you... do you still want to be around me?"

The moment I asked, I hated myself for it. It sounded so small and pathetic, like I was begging for reassurance I didn’t think I deserved.

Ethan frowned, genuine confusion crinkling his brows as he leaned in closer. "What?" he asked softly. "Noah, what are you talking about?"

I swallowed hard, my throat burning. Saying it out loud felt like ripping open a wound that hadn’t even started to heal, but once I began, everything spilled out anyway.

"I mean... after last night," I whispered, my voice shaking even though I tried to keep it steady. "After what almost happened." I let out a weak laugh, a hollow sound that didn’t belong to me. "Patrick touched me, Ethan. Before you and Adrien got there."

His whole body stiffened at that, his jaw tightening so much I could see the muscle jumping. But he didn’t interrupt or look away.

"I couldn’t stop them," I continued, tears blurring my vision as shame wrapped around my ribs and squeezed. "I tried, but I was too weak. I couldn’t fight them off, and at some point..." My voice cracked completely. "At some point, I thought it would just happen whether I wanted it or not."

Finally, I looked up at him, my chest aching as the words I’d been carrying alone finally spilled out. "That makes me disgusting, doesn’t it? I didn’t even have the strength to keep fighting. Trouble follows me everywhere, and I’m just... tired. You deserve someone better than me."

The silence that followed was heavy, but not cold.

Ethan set down his teacup slowly and then reached for me, his hands warm and steady as he gently cupped my face. His touch wasn’t rushed or desperate; it grounded me, like he was anchoring me to something solid when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

"No," he said firmly, his voice low but steady. "Don’t you ever call yourself that again."

Fresh tears spilled over, but he didn’t back away. Instead, he wiped them away with his thumbs, his blue eyes soft yet intense as he held my gaze.

"You are not weak," he continued, each word measured. "And you are definitely not disgusting. Do you hear me?" His forehead rested against mine as he spoke. "What happened to you wasn’t your fault. Not at all, there’s no way you could have fought all of them off."

I tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let me.

"You survived something terrifying," he said gently. "That takes strength, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. Especially when it doesn’t feel like it."

My lips trembled as a sob broke free, and I leaned into him, my defenses finally crumbling. He pulled me into his chest without hesitation, one hand smoothing over my hair as if he could soothe the pain right out of me.

"You are the strongest person I know, Noah," he murmured. "And I love you. Nothing that happened last night changes that. Nothing ever will."

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, lingering there like a promise, and for the first time since everything went wrong, the tight knot in my chest loosened just a bit.

I wasn’t alone in this, no matter what my anxiety kept telling me.

And for now... that was enough.