My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 199: The Look Of Love

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She rubbed her tired eyes. "I know Joanne kept in touch with him. She’d mention it here and there...’talked to the lawyer today’, but she kept the details close to her chest. Said it was safer that way. And then... weeks later, she was gone. Her car wrapped around a tree on a night she was supposedly just running errands in the city."

Rachel’s voice cracked again. "It was the worst news I ever got. Called me at the diner, right in the middle of my shift. I dropped a whole tray of plates. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt, dear."

Adrien went completely silent next to me, his gaze fixed on the worn carpet, something dark and heavy settling over his features. I could feel the weight of it coming from him...confirming that his mother had been scared, that she’d been planning, that her death might not have been the random tragedy everyone assumed.

Without thinking too much about it, I reached over and took his hand. His fingers were cold from the walk, but they wrapped around mine instantly, tight, like I was the only steady thing in the room. I made slow, soothing circles on his knuckles with my thumb, hoping it conveyed what words couldn’t at that moment: I’m here. We’ll get through this together.

Rachel watched us with a sad, tired smile. "A few days after the funeral, I got let go from my second job at the vineyard. No warning, just a polite letter about ’restructuring.’ I never heard from Logan again after that. His number went dead, and my emails bounced back. It was like he disappeared."

She lifted a shoulder in a weary shrug. "I told myself it was a coincidence. Just bad luck on top of grief. Easier to think that way, I guess I never even liked him that much, I suppose."

The radiator clanked again, breaking the silence that followed. Outside, snow kept falling in thick, silent sheets, hiding the streetlights until the window glowed with nothing but white.

Adrien’s grip on my hand tightened for a moment, then relaxed, but he didn’t let go. And honestly, neither did I.

The silence that hung in the air after Rachel’s last words felt almost tangible, heavy with all the hopes we had and the truths we hadn’t yet uncovered. The radiator had finally quieted down, leaving just the soft sound of snow tapping against the window and the occasional creak of the old house settling in the chilly night. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Adrien’s hand was still in mine, but his fingers had gone limp, as if all his fight had slowly drained away. I could practically feel the disappointment radiating from him, sharp and familiar, echoing in my own chest.

I couldn’t bear the quiet anymore. "Rachel," I leaned in a bit and asked, "is there anything else that comes to mind? Even something minor? A weird conversation, another name Joanne might have mentioned...anything that could help us figure this out?"

She shook her head slowly, a hint of regret tugging at her lips. "I wish I had more for you, honey. I really do. But I learned a long time ago to stay out of wealthy folks’ affairs. It never turned out well for someone like me."

With a tired, almost wry smile, she continued, "Joanne and I were friends—best friends, but there were always things in her life that felt off-limits. She’d drop hints and talk around stuff, but then she’d change the subject. I never pushed too hard. Maybe I should have, but... I didn’t."

Adrien’s voice came out rough, barely above a whisper. "But... there has to be something else. Just one detail. One name. Anything."

Rachel looked down at her worn slippers, toes curling slightly, and the way she held herself seemed almost painful to witness.

"I’m truly sorry, sweetheart. I really don’t know anything more. Joanne lived in a different world from mine...private schools, charity events, family money older than this town. I grew up in trailers and worked double shifts and kept two jobs since I was a teen. We met at the diner where I was a waitress when we were nineteen and she’d stop by for coffee after vineyard meetings. We hit it off, but there were always barriers. I never tried to cross them."

Adrien let out a long sigh that felt like it was coming from deep within him. Outside, the last light of day had faded, turning the window into a black mirror that reflected our dimly lit room. The night had fully arrived during our conversation, and with it, the fragile hope we’d carried from that long, cold walk faded as well.

Our big lead, Rachel had led us to a dead end. All we had now was a full name: Logan Seymour. A lawyer who’d disappeared six years ago. A ghost.

Watching Adrien’s shoulders slump, I felt helpless. The defeat settled over him like the snow piling up outside. I squeezed his hand tighter, wishing I could somehow send him strength through my grip, but all I could offer was the warmth of my palm and the promise that I wasn’t going anywhere.

We lingered in that heavy silence for a moment longer, the radiator giving one last half-hearted clank, as though it too had given up.

Then, unexpectedly, Rachel’s lips curled into a soft, gentle smile...the kind that lit up her eyes and eased the tired lines on her face.

"It’s funny," she said, her voice lighter than it had been all night, "you two keep calling me Rachel."

Adrien and I exchanged confused glances, eyebrows furrowing. "Isn’t... that your name?"

She let out a soft laugh, warm and nostalgic. "No, sweetheart. My name’s Christiana, always has been. Rachel was just a goofy nickname Joanne came up with the first week we met."

Shaking her head, her eyes seemed to drift off into memories. "Joanne looked at me...hair in a messy ponytail, apron stained with coffee and said I looked just like Jennifer Aniston from that show Friends. And since my last name’s Greene with an e, just like the character... well, Rachel Greene just stuck. She thought it was the funniest thing ever, insisted on calling me that every day."

Adrien let out a surprised chuckle, the first real laugh I’d heard from him in ages. "Sounds like her...always had a strange sense of humor."

He nudged me with his shoulder while giving me that smirk that meant he was about to say or do something that would piss me off. "Like you do."

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my smile.

"I’m sorry," he said to Rachel, rubbing the back of his neck. "We didn’t know."

Christiana or rather...Rachel, dismissed it with a wave, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Don’t be. I still love it. Haven’t heard anyone call me that since..."

Her voice caught for a moment, then steadied. "Well, since her. It’s kind of nice, actually. Makes it feel like she’s still here a little."

An ache blossomed in my chest, bittersweet. "She must have really cared about you," I said softly.

Rachel’s smile faltered, but stayed. "And I loved her. Still do.

I struggled to tell if the love Rachel had felt for Joanne was platonic...on the outside, it seemed like it was.

But the look on Rachel’s eyes said otherwise.

Well, what do I know about love? I fell helplessly for my ex-bully slash stepbrother without even realizing it.

In that small shared moment, the room felt warmer, even if the answers we came looking for still eluded us. Outside, the snow continued to fall, silent and endless, blanketing the world in a thick white hush. Inside, we sat with a nickname that had outlived its creator and a name...Logan Seymour that might lead us somewhere, or nowhere at all.

At least, we weren’t leaving completely empty-handed. We were leaving with Rachel.