Stealing Her (Covet 1)

Today I looked like him more than I looked like me.

Chest tight, I stared at myself and wondered if Julian would have done this. Would he have gone this far?

Would he have put on this suit, kissed her mouth, fallen in love?

I didn’t know the man he was now, all I knew was the boys we had been together, and all I remembered was trying to protect him and then him stealing my shit on a daily basis.

I sighed and looked away.

His Rolex was heavy on my arm.

This was his money.

His wedding day.

I dialed my mom using FaceTime and squeezed my eyes shut. The phone rang, and rang, but finally Mom picked it up. “HONEY!”

“Mom.” My voice cracked. “I wish you were here.” I needed her there, but it was dangerous traveling in her condition. The feeding tube was doing its job and she looked healthier than I’d seen her in the last two years. She even had color in her cheeks.

I could at least thank my dad for that.

Julian too.

“I wish I was there too, baby.” She sniffled. “You look so handsome, so much like your brother and yet so much uniquely you.”

Tears welled in my own eyes. “I hate that I miss him in moments like this. I hate that I still resent him too. I don’t know how to feel, Mom. I’m marrying—”

“Sweetie.” She held the phone close to her face. “Just answer me this. If the situations were reversed, do you have any doubt in your mind he would be doing the exact same thing?”

I was ready to say yes.

And then I really thought about it.

How he sent money and then set up a separate fund for me and Mom, but also how he never visited, never once reached out to me once we were out of college, the emails just dwindled and disappeared.

“Yeah, Mom, I think he probably would, though I highly doubt he would have lost his grip with reality and started believing it was real, that Izzy loved the stand-in rather than the real one.”

“Honey . . .” She used her mom voice, the one that had me standing a little straighter, listening a little better. “You can’t help who you love, or who you fall for, that’s just life. It’s not something that you can control. Worry about today, there’s only enough energy for today. Stop worrying about tomorrow, live, honey, just live your best life in these next few hours and be the boy I raised into this spectacular man I see in front of me. I’m so proud.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded. “You made me who I am.”

“Damn right I did,” she teased. “You’re what makes the Tennyson name worth having, son. Never forget that. And call me when you can. I want an update. I’m feeling . . . restless about all of this. You guys have been on the news every single night I’ve watched. People keep saying that this is the start of a dynasty for this family, they’re comparing you to royalty.”

I winced. It wasn’t just a lot of pressure.

It was the fact that the world thought I was someone else when I wanted them to know . . . that it was me.

Ten years from now, they’d still think that Julian Tennyson was alive, and nobody would ask about the other brother who changed his name.

I looked in the mirror again and realized.

My father had done it.

He’d actually done it.

He’d killed Bridge.

And resurrected what he saw was a better version of Julian.

Son of a bitch.

I paced in front of the mirror.

“You still there, honey?”

“Yeah,” I croaked, feeling more panicked than I had in years. “Same here.”

“But . . .” Her smile was back. “You’re my Bridge. You’ll figure it out, and I will never”—tears streamed down her face—“forget the sacrifice you made so that I could talk to you like this on your wedding day without blacking out.”

“Mom.”

“Go.” Her smile was watery. “Tell that lovely girl to take care of you.”

“She has been,” I said, and then heat crept up my neck into my face, and I knew I was blushing like an immature kid.

Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh, so it’s like that?”

“It just happened.” I looked away.

“Oh, you fell on each other while naked? What, you slip on a banana peel?”

“Oh hell, I’m hanging up now.” I laughed, loving that she could cheer me up when I was ready to have a panic attack over the stark realization that I was him now.

Truly him.

She winked. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hung up and stared down at the phone in my hands, no texts saying Julian had suddenly woken up.

I had two groomsmen who were friends with Julian, friends I knew shit about. One was named Oz and the other douche was Rhett, who, upon seeing me, handed me a shot of tequila and said, “To getting laid by one chick for the rest of your life.”