My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 59: Ethan’s Desperation

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3rd Person’s POV

By the third day, Ethan was at his breaking point. He finally texted Noah back, but there was still no reply.

At first, he convinced himself Noah just needed some space too. Maybe he was upset about Ethan leaving him at the diner or ignoring his earlier messages. But as the hours dragged on without a single word from him, his excuses started to sound thin, more like denial than reason.

The first time he reached out again, he kept it short and sweet:

Ethan: Hey. Can we talk?

But it fell flat, no checkmark and no "read." Just that empty gray bubble hovering in nothingness.

A few hours later, he tried again:

Ethan: Noah, please. I just want to know you’re okay.

Nothing still.

By day four, he was calling, his voice shaky even though he kept telling himself it was just frustration, not worry. The calls went straight to voicemail, no ring, no answer. Just that heavy silence.

He flopped on his couch, gripping his phone like it was a lifeline, staring up at the ceiling of his too-large living room. The ticking clock on the wall felt deafening. Every second dragged on, the quiet pressing against his chest until it hurt.

"He probably just lost signal or left his phone somewhere," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not a big deal. People forget their phones all the time."

But deep down, he didn’t believe that.

Noah’s social media had gone silent too no new posts, no stories, not even a like on anyone’s photos. It was as if he had disappeared overnight.

By the morning, he’d given up pretending he wasn’t worried to death. He was pacing around the living room, restless energy buzzing through him like electricity. He’d wander to the kitchen, pour a glass of water, and then forget to drink it, finding himself back at the window, just staring at nothing.

He tried to tell himself he wasn’t the clingy boyfriend who couldn’t take a hint. But the truth was, he couldn’t focus on anything else. Every time his phone lit up, his heart would race, only to drop when it turned out not to be Noah.

Finally, he snapped.

"Fine," he grumbled, snatching his keys from the counter. "If he won’t answer, I’ll just have to see him myself."

The drive to the Oakfield mansion felt longer than usual, even though he was speeding. His mind was a tangled mess, replaying the look on Noah’s face when he shared the truth, the tremor in his voice, the guilt in his eyes. He had no idea what he was going to say when he saw Noah, just that he needed to.

When he finally arrived at the mansion gates, everything felt as quiet as the messages he wasn’t returning. The guards at the gate crossed their arms, blocking his way.

"Sir, no visitors without prior notice," one of them said firmly.

Ethan clenched his jaw. "I just need to see Noah. It’s important."

"Mr Valentine isn’t available right now."

"Yeah, I figured," he muttered to himself, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "Look, I’m not leaving until—"

"Ethan Seymour?"

He froze at the sound of that voice. Turning, he saw a woman approaching the gate with a polite smile. Relief washed over him, when he saw that she bore a huge resemblance to Noah...as in Noah might as well been a younger male version of the woman, brown same eyes, same shade of brown curly hair.

He didn’t need to be genius to tell that was Noah’s mother.

"Mrs. Fell," he said quickly, stepping forward. "I—uh—I’m really sorry to show up like this, but I’ve been trying to reach Noah for days and—"

Helen’s smile softened, understanding in her eyes. "It’s alright, dear. Let him through."

Ethan felt relief flood through him as the gate opened. He drove up the long driveway and parked next to one of Keith’s fancy cars, feeling a bit out of place in this sea of wealth, even though his own parents were considered wealthy as well.

Helen greeted him at the door, her gaze both kind and curious. "Come in, dear. You look like you’ve been waiting out there forever."

"Sorry for crashing in like this," Ethan said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as she led him inside. "I didn’t mean to intrude."

"Nonsense," she said with a smile, guiding him to the kitchen. "Would you like some tea? You look like you could use it."

He wanted to decline, wanted to maintain his pride—but the way she spoke reminded him of his own mother before she and his father disappeared into their endless vacations. So he nodded, quietly muttering, "Sure, thank you."

Helen filled the kettle, moving with a grace that felt practiced. "So," she started, glancing back at him, "you’re Noah’s boyfriend, right? I’ve heard a lot about you."

That caught him off guard. "You have?"

"Oh, yes." Her smile grew softer. "He doesn’t talk about people or his feelings much, but when he does, they usually mean something special to him. You’ve made him very happy, Ethan. Thank you for that."

Ethan froze, unsure how to react to her warmth. "I—uh... yeah. He’s great. Noah’s... really something."

"He’s amazing, and I love him so much!" Was what he wanted to say, or something like, "Thank you for birthing him!"

Helen placed a cup of tea in front of him and sat down across from him. "I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing," she said gently. "Noah and Adrien aren’t here right now. My husband and I sent them on a little... trip for two weeks."

He blinked in surprise. "Trip?"

"Yes," She nodded, sipping her tea. "To Clearwater Cabin. A bit of a bonding retreat, you could say. They’ve had a rough start as step siblings, and Keith and I thought... maybe if they spent some time alone together away from distractions, they’d finally see the good in each other."

Those words hit him harder than he expected. Bonding trip, for two weeks.

Alone together.

He struggled to keep his expression neutral, but Helen’s perceptive gaze made that impossible. She smiled kindly, mistaking his tension for simple concern. "Don’t look so worried, dear. Adrien can be difficult, but I’m sure he means well at heart. And I really think Noah will bring out a softer side in him. Maybe this will help them both."

Ethan tightened his grip on the teacup. "Yeah," he said after a moment, forcing a small smile. "Maybe it will."

She sighed fondly. "Honestly, I just want peace in this family. I know Adrien hasn’t always been the kindest to you as well— I apologize for that. He can be... prideful. But I hope that someday you’ll all get along."

Ethan nodded, but his chest felt heavier by the second. "I appreciate that, Mrs. Fell. Really."

When he left a few minutes later, the sky was darkening, and the air was thick with the scent of rain. He stood by his car for a moment, staring back at the mansion’s glowing windows.

So Noah was out there somewhere, alone with Adrien, the one who had made his life miserable for years—while he was stuck here, feeling useless and miles away from him.

As he started the engine, his throat tightened, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

The drive home was quiet, his mind spinning with one relentless thought: he’s alone with him, for two weeks.

If Adrien did anything to hurt him, he’d strangle Adrien himself.