365 Days As My Stepdad's Surrogate Luna-Bride
Fuck! Why can’t she stop asking me these hard questions? God knows if I’ll even pass. I silently cursed, my eyes flicking to the clearance sheet clutched in her hand.
“Lilith Ashford,” Professor Keller yelled, her voice slicing through the room as she slammed a stamp onto my form. “Your record shows you’ve passed this semester with an A. That qualifies you to choose the city for your internship. Don’t waste my time—where’s it going to be?”
“Uhmm… L.A.,” I managed, my throat suddenly dry.
“Excellent choice, and consider it done,” she said briskly, sliding the paper toward me. “I’ll be expecting your commencement sheet by next week.”
I took the paper and stepped out, leaving behind rows of anxious students whose futures still trembled in the iron grip of the strictest professor on campus.
After two grueling weeks of sleepless nights and endless projects, I finally secured my clearance. All that remained was to bid my boyfriend goodbye and head to the airport. Time to abandon this college that had drained me dry.
Physically. Emotionally. Mentally.
Imagine being forced to sit through lectures while cramping just to get a “C.” It was pure torture. And emotionally? Don’t get me started on my three failed relationships on this campus, each within eight months.
Sometimes it felt inherited. Ever since my mum’s first divorce, all five of her boyfriends had cheated on her. But I never asked questions. I didn’t need to because, unlike her, I had found my forever.
Nathan.
I already knew he was the one the day he thanked me for paying his food delivery bill right before he moved in with me.
He had even hinted at proposing, since we’d lasted longer than three months. Our one-year anniversary was supposed to fall on my birthday. Today.
I got out of the Uber, entering the compound of my off-campus lodge, my chest fluttering with excitement. For a moment, I imagined him inside, fumbling with a cake, maybe holding the ring on one knee, the saxophonist playing "All of You" while his best friend took videos.
But my grin froze the second I neared the door. No music. No laughter. No “She’s here, quick, hide!”
Instead of being welcomed with a birthday cake package or better still, a marriage proposal, I was greeted by moans. Deep, throaty, masculine ones.
My stomach clenched, bile rising to my throat. No. Not him. Not today.
I stood frozen, listening. Maybe it was the neighbors. Maybe the TV. I just didn’t want to believe it was coming from my apartment.
The moans grew louder as I forced myself forward, each step heavier than the last. My tote bag rattled behind me, aligning with the wet, obscene sounds leaking from my bedroom.
Stepping inside, shorts trailed across the living-room floor, faintly reeking of cigarettes.
I gasped, unable to believe those shorts were similar to the ones I bought for Nathan. Heart pounding heavily, I ran and shoved the bedroom door open, only to be shattered seeing Nathan completely naked, his ass bent over, while his so-called “buddy” fucked him from behind.
The same guy he swore was just a friend and music producer.
Worse, rainbow-colored condoms littered the floor like mocking confetti. I watched as James shouted, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” while Nathan kept releasing feminine moans.
“What the hell?” My voice cracked, heat surging up my veins.
“Babe, you’re back. I can explain! It’s not what you think.” Nathan scrambled for his boxers, his body immersed in baby oil.
“It just happened. I didn’t mean…” he stuttered, his dick still swinging as he nearly toppled.
“No! This can’t be happening.” My voice rose. “Where are the balloons? The confetti? The saxophonist? Where’s the fucking diamond ring I saw in your wardrobe?”
“Lilith, don’t jump to conclusions. It’s not as it seems.”
“Shut the fuck up. You were moaning, and why the hell does James have my ring on?”
He froze, face draining of color. Then he collapsed to his knees, crawling forward.
“Please, Lilith, I’m sorry. Don’t abandon me. You’ve always been there when no one else believed in me. If you leave, where will I go?”
His words blurred into static. All I saw were the nights I stayed up for him. The money I poured into his studio rental. The way I believed in his dead-end music dreams when no one else would.
And yet here he was, giving himself to James in ways he never gave me since he swore he was “celibate” till marriage.
His begging wasn’t even about losing true love. It was about losing his helper.
“You want help?” My voice was flat, fist clenched in anger. “Here’s my help: the rent runs out in six months. Help yourself and your boyfriend.”
He blinked, stunned. Probably expected me to cry, scream, maybe throw something. But I didn’t. My suitcase handle dug into my palm as I rolled it away, wiping the salty tears from my eyes.
Three years of heartbreak had taught me that screaming, crying, or reacting never changed a thing. And I’d be damned to look weak in front of him.
I booked a nearby hotel and made the only call I could, to my twin friends, Kira and Kate.
“Waddup, Diva, you’re never going to believe…” Kira trailed off when she picked up.
“Let’s meet up. I can’t continue like this,” I broke down, sobbing, words choking up my throat.
“Why are you crying? Forget it. Where are you? Decathlon, right? Wait for us. We’ll be there.”
By the time they arrived, I was a mess — robe tied loosely, heartbreak songs blasting from the speakers, flip-flops on the wrong feet. They burst in like the chaos I needed, arguing.
Kate hugged me tight, instantly sensing my hurt. “Girl, you’re a mess. Look at you.” She snatched the half-melted ice cream bowl from my hand. “This will make you add ten pounds. What even happened?”
“Kate, he dared. Nathan cheated on me. After everything… Am I not pretty enough that he had to cheat on me with a guy? Or am I cursed?” I sobbed harder against her shoulder, mucus and tears spilling onto her.
“It’s not your fault,” she said, wiping my tears. “And don’t you dare call yourself cursed again.”
“It’s just… I’m fucking fed up. This is my fourth relationship, and I’m not even close to being called a girlfriend, let alone a wife.”
“That doesn’t make you cursed. He’s the one who’s cursed. He lost a gem. Any girl willing to pay a guy’s tuition is a damn artifact,” Kira joined in, leaning against the door, trying in vain to hide her glassy eyes. “Forget that bastard. Let’s talk about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. What’s the plan, or have you forgotten your special date, birthday girl?”
“You guys remembered?” My throat tightened, eyes threatening to release tears.
“Of course we did.” Kira placed her hands on my shoulders. “We’re family. When your mom went through the divorce, you lived with us for two years. That makes us almost sisters.”
“Don’t say almost,” Kate corrected softly. “That makes us sisters.”
Their words hit like a balm as we shared a tight hug.
“Enough tears.” Kira clapped her hands. “Let’s go somewhere you’d never dare. Let’s hit the club unless someone’s about to chicken out.”
Kate rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re impossible. But fine. If it will make Lilith happy, I won’t tell Mom.”
“Yes. I wanna go with you guys.” I wiped my face.
Kira gave me a once-over and cackled. “Looking like that? We’re going to the hottest club in town, not checking you into a psych ward.”
“Shut up, Kira. Just get her dressed decently,” Kate instructed.
But Kira had never been a fan of Kate’s instructions. Why start now? She tore through my suitcase like a stylist on a mission. Finally, she held up a sequined mini-skirt with a push-up bralet.
Kate sighed, hands on her head. “God help us all.”
And just like that, with Kate’s mothering and Kira’s madness, I was no longer the robe-wearing, ice-cream-eating girl Nathan had broken. I was Lilith Ashford — hair sleek, heels sharp, lips glossed.
“Now you look like clubbing material,” Kira smiled, handing me a denim bag.
“Can we go now? The cab’s here,” Kate called from the window.
“Yes, let’s go party.”
For the first time in months, I felt alive. Maybe tonight I’d claim something for myself — no apologies, only regrets.
