Page 61 of The Stepbrother 2: Noah
The house was a large, two-story structure with blacked-out windows, giving no hint of what lay inside. As we approached the front door, the bodyguards fanned out, creating a protectivebarrier around us. Everything felt surreal—like a scene from a movie, except there were no cameras, no director, and no script.
Noah pressed the doorbell, and we waited in silence, listening to the faint chime echo beyond the door.
Seconds ticked by, each one feeling longer than the last. I glanced at Noah and saw the slight clench in his jaw, the only sign of his own tension. Finally, we heard footsteps approaching from inside the house…
Troy-
"What’s wrong, Troy? You've barely spoken to me in days, and you're in bed at noon." Scarlett's concerned voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I looked up to find her, head cocked, eyes narrowed, watching me from the doorway of our bedroom.
I ran my hand down my face before answering. “I was just thinking… Where would we be if I hadn’t forced you into my room that night?” I had been high as hell and angry, not thinking straight.
“Sometimes I feel like I forced you to love me, to have children, to do everything—and that’s why it’s all a clusterfuck now.” Icould feel tears prickling in my eyes. Maine was dead, Creed barely spoke to me, and I found out my bandmate was having an affair with my son when I had to send an investigator looking for him after he didn't show up to his sister’s funeral. My life was spiraling.
Scarlett walked into the room, her bare feet silent on the rug. She looked so beautiful to me in her Erykah Badu T-shirt and big panties. We’d changed a lot over the years, gained weight, our hair was turning gray, but her beauty never changed for me. The bed shifted when she sat, then lay down next to me on her back, looking up at the ceiling fan. I was on my side, just staring at her cheek.
“Do you really think you could have forced me to spend nearly thirty years with you? I didn’t need you for money or fame—I had my own."
“No, But—” I started, but she cut me off
"I love you, Troy. I love the life we built. That’s why I didn’t actually sign the divorce papers. I thought about what life would be without you, and my chest got tight. I know what happened to Maine has you feeling like you failed. But you didn’t. Life is just fucking chaotic. Did we get lost in our own little bubble and miss things we shouldn’t have? Yes. But that’s just life."
My throat clog up at hearing Maine’s name. Burying my daughter had felt like burying a piece of my soul, and the pain felt like it would never go away. I reached out and took Scarlett's hand, wishing I could feel the softness again, but my burns had messed up the nerves in my hand. I was still healing.
She turned her head to look into my eyes, her own filled with tears.
"I'm sorry, Scarlett. We’re supposed to be working on our marriage, and I can’t even get out of bed.” I sighed, feeling defeated. "I just... I miss Maine so much, and everything seems so messed up right now." I kept thinking about how I could have saved her if I’d done this or that. “I didn’t know what to do with the guilt.” I felt like I was drowning in it.
Scarlett reached up and brushed a tear from my cheek, her touch soft. "I miss her too, Troy, every single fucking day. But we can't blame ourselves for everything that's happened."
I nodded, trying to regain my composure, but a sob slipped out. I felt so weak, crying like this.
Scarlett crawled on top of me, blanketing me with her body. She held me tight, her mouth close to my ear as she began to sing softly, "I gotta find peace of mind, I gotta find peace of mind... I know it's possible."
Her voice and the words calmed my racing heart.
It took me a while to compose myself. Evening had turned to night, and the only light came from the tiny slivers peeking through the slats on the window. Scarlett had long ago stopped singing, but she remained by my side, lying next to me.
“I think we need to separate,” she finally said.
I opened my mouth to object, but she cut me off.
“Just for a few weeks. You need to go to Creed, visit DJ while you’re there, and I’ll go to Jason. Dr. Avery said they need time, but she doesn’t know our family like we do. If we give Creed or Jason too much time, it’s not going to get better. When my granddaughter comes, I want our family healing. I want DJ to be able to visit and not see us sad.”
She was right. We needed to find a way to heal our fractured family, and maybe some time apart was the first step toward that goal. With a heavy heart, I nodded in agreement, willing to do whatever it took to mend what I knew I had a hand in breaking.
Creed-
Noah’s restless pacing outside in the snow was both distracting and worrying. He’d just learned that the father he thought was dead was actually alive, right here in this house. And instead of speaking to the man, Noah had just looked at him, said, “I’ll be back,” and walked outside. I don’t know if he’d expected to find his father here, but he definitely hadn’t prepared himself for it.
Noah had sent the bodyguards away, but in their absence, a massive husky from somewhere nearby had taken on the role of protector, standing watch over him as he walked in tight circles. Inside, I turned to our now-host—what else could I call him? I needed answers.
“Why did you do it?” I asked, my voice low but firm.
He sat across from me on a brown leather sofa while I curled up in his recliner, the fire crackling behind us. He looked so much like Noah—just older, more worn, his frame lean beneath his sweater and jeans.
He ran a hand through his hair, eyes heavy with regret. “I did it because I was losing my mind,” he said. “The fame, the pressure, my parents... every day I thought about closing my eyes and never waking up. I’d been that way since my parents found out I could sing when I was eight. We lived in the foothills of Kentucky, in a double-wide, and they saw me as their way out. They took me to every audition they could find, trying to get me into every boy band. I finally hit big at eighteen, first with modeling, then as a singer in my first band. I felt obligated to do it for them, even though I wanted to be anything else.”
