My mum preferred my younger sister to me, because she brings money home (part 4)

“You can’t be in love with me, John. What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly.

He held my hand like he was afraid I would disappear.

“Sincerely… it is complicated, Amy.”

In my heart I said, Nah them.

I slowly withdrew my hand from his. Not angrily. Not dramatically. Just carefully.

“My life on its own is already complicated. I wouldn’t want to add more complications to it. Please leave my room.”

I said it calmly, but I meant every word.

He stuttered.

“Okay… I’m sorry. I know I should have explained better. The truth is I didn’t even ask her out. She just… loved me and wanted to be around me. We weren’t really close friends. Then all of a sudden she started telling everyone she was my girlfriend. I’ve asked her several times if I ever asked her out and she said no. Her excuse for coming around is that she wants to check up on you.”

I almost laughed at that last part.

But I didn’t.

“John,” I said gently, “I can’t put myself in a position where I have to fight to find my place in someone’s life. If I ever decide to be in your life, I won’t compete for space. For now, sort your life out before you bring drama into mine.”

He looked at me for a long moment.

Then he nodded.

“Thank you.”

He left quietly.

That night I slept with a clear conscience.

I woke up around 2am to a knock.

At first I thought I was dreaming. Then it came again.

My heart began to race.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“This is Ramsey.”

I checked my phone. 2:04am.

Ramsey?

Considering how distant he had been since I moved in, this was strange.

“Ramsey, it’s quite early. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Please… it can’t wait. If I don’t speak to you now, I don’t think I’ll sleep.”

His voice didn’t sound arrogant like usual. It sounded… unsettled.

But still.

“No,” I replied firmly. “Whatever it is can wait till morning. I’m not opening my door at this time. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

There was silence.

For a second I almost felt bad.

Then I remembered I was a young woman in a house that wasn’t originally mine.

Security first.

I covered myself again and forced myself to sleep.

I woke up very early. I wanted to get hot water from the kitchen myself. I didn’t want to wait for John to do it anymore. He had already complicated things enough by falling in love with me.

I needed distance.

As I opened my door, I almost screamed.

Ramsey was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall beside my door.

His hair was slightly rough. His eyes were red.

“Jesus!” I gasped. “Don’t tell me you slept here?”

He nodded.

For a moment, I didn’t know what to feel.

Anger?

Pity?

Guilt?

“Can I come inside?” he asked softly.

I hesitated.

I didn’t immediately step aside.

“You should have gone to your room,” I said. “That was unnecessary.”

“I know.”

There was no defense in his tone. Just acceptance.

I stepped aside slowly.

“Come in.”

He walked in quietly and sat on the chair, not on my bed.

That small detail didn’t escape me.

“Amaka,” he began, staring at his fingers, “I was stupid. Even after taking you to the hospital that day, I never truly apologized. I caused that accident. I put you through pain that could have been avoided. I’ve been acting like it wasn’t my responsibility.”

He swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”

I watched him carefully.

His shoulders were not squared like usual. They were slightly bent. His fingers were clasped tightly together, like he was holding himself in place.

I nodded slowly.

That apology… that was what I needed.

But I didn’t smile.

“I also left everything to my dad and my step brother,” he continued. “I behaved like it wasn’t my duty. From now on, I’ll take responsibility. I’ll do everything possible to make sure you walk well again.”

I studied his face.

There was no pride there.

Just tiredness.

“Thank you,” I replied quietly. “At least I’ll walk really fast and leave your house for you.”

He looked up sharply.

“Haba now. I thought I’ve apologized? You’re still planning to leave?”

“Of course I will leave. Here is not my home afterall.” I fired at him, even though a faint smile escaped me.

But it didn’t turn into laughter this time.

The atmosphere was softer. Cautious.

Then he said something that changed the air.

“You know… if you had agreed with your mum to sue us, it would have been a disaster. We just finished burying my mum. We spent so much money. I’ve not been myself since I lost her. Everything feels… misplaced.”

His voice broke slightly at the last sentence.

I watched his hands tighten.

His jaw flexed.

He blinked too fast.

And then one tear escaped before he wiped it away almost angrily, like he was embarrassed.

I didn’t rush to speak.

So this is what he has been hiding behind his arrogance.

Grief.

“I didn’t know you lost your mum,” I said gently.

He nodded.

“She was everything.”

Silence filled the room.

For the first time since I moved into Mr George’s house one month ago, I saw Ramsey not as the proud son of the house, but as someone wounded.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He inhaled deeply and stood up.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you at 2am.”

“You did disturb me,” I said honestly.

And for the first time, he smiled properly.

“I deserve that.”

He left the room shortly after.

And that was it.

No laughter.

No instant bonding.

Just something small to begin with.

Days passed.

Not dramatic days.

Normal days.

Ramsey began greeting me properly.

He would ask if I needed anything.

Sometimes he would sit briefly and leave.

Nothing forced.

Nothing rushed.

Then one morning, almost a week later, he knocked again. This time by 9am.

“Permission to enter?” he asked playfully.

I laughed.

“Enter.”

“I’m making pancakes in the kitchen. You’ve been in this house for one month and you hardly step out. Come and supervise me.”

“Supervise?”

“Yes. If it burns, you’ll testify against me.”

I followed him slowly.

His father and elder brother glanced at us from the sitting room, surprised but quiet.

In the kitchen, he moved comfortably. Cracking eggs. Mixing flour. Flipping the pan with confidence.

I sat on a stool watching.

At some point he handed me a piece to taste.

Our fingers brushed.

Just slightly.

But something shifted inside me.

I shouldn’t be feeling this.

John confessed feelings.

Ramsey is his step brother.

I’m still healing physically.

I’m living in their house.

My heart needs to behave.

But when he smiled at me, it felt warm. Not chaotic like John’s confession. Just steady.

I hated that I enjoyed it.

He didn’t act like he noticed the effect he had on me.

Or maybe he did.

Later that week, he insisted on taking me shopping for new clothes.

I refused twice.

He insisted three times.

Eventually I agreed.

As we walked through the mall, I felt… normal.

Then we saw them.

John.

And Sarah.

Sarah was holding his arm. Not tightly. But deliberately.

When she saw me, her face lit up.

“Amaka! Hi!”

She released John’s arm to hug me, but I noticed she looked back quickly at him before stepping fully toward me.

John’s body was stiff.

His jaw was tight.

He forced a small wave.

Ramsey stood beside me calmly, hands in his pockets.

Sarah’s eyes flicked between Ramsey and I.

Just for a second.

A small assessment.

“Oh… you both came together?” she asked lightly.

“Yes,” Ramsey answered before I could.

His tone was neutral, but he stepped slightly closer to me.

Subtle.

Protective.

John noticed.

His fingers curled into a fist briefly before relaxing.

“We were just leaving,” John said quickly.

Sarah smiled again, but this time it did

n’t reach her eyes.

“See you around, Amaka.”

They walked away.

But John glanced back once.

And I don’t know why, but that glance felt heavier than words.

Ramsey noticed it too.

He didn’t comment.

Neither did I.

But something had shifted again.

And this time… I wasn’t sure where it was leading.

To be continued.