My Mom's Ex-Husband (The Forbidden Fun)

But then, before we can get further into this conversation, the wedding march begins to play, and Faith and I hurry away to take our places at two folding chairs set up nearby.

“This is insane,” Faith whispers low enough so that only I can hear. “They’ve only known each other for four months? This is insane!”

I shrug with a smile. “You heard him. Georgie’s the scion of a rich family. Honestly, your mom was probably trying to tie the knot even faster.”

Faith rolls her eyes, but doesn’t reply because the double doors swing open majestically, revealing a woman wearing a scandalously short white dress. The décolletage is down to there, while the hem is up around her butt cheeks, and the whole thing drips with lace and crystals. Her face is obscured by a thick veil, but I shudder because my intuition is that Samantha will be caked with make-up underneath.

But instead of walking down the short aisle, the woman teeters in place. At first, I think it’s because she can’t walk in her six inch heels, but then she advances a few steps before stopping again, wobbling like a deer.

“Hunter?” comes a choked voice from beneath the veil. “Faith?”

I stare at the figure, whose face is still obscured. Why does that voice sound familiar? Then, the mystery woman tosses back her veil and stares at me with big blue eyes framed in spidery black mascara.

“Hunter? What the fuck? What the fuck are you doing at my wedding?”

I’m just as shocked, and stare back at the bride.

“Samantha?” I stammer. “What …?”

But Faith is now looking between us with a confused expression. “You know each other?” she asks. “But how? Mom, this is my boyfriend, Hunter. But how would you know each other? You’ve never met before!”

With that, the bride throws back her head to let out a long, cacaphonous peal of laughter.

“Never met? I wouldn’t say that.”

Two spots of bright red form on my girlfriend’s cheeks, and by now, Georgie has stepped forward in confusion too.

“Sammie, honey?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

The bride merely lets out another ugly peal of laughter that seems to reverberate all the way to the rafters.

“Why Faith, please don’t tell me you’re dating this man. No, not him. Anyone but him.”

My girlfriend stares at her mother.

“But I am! Why? Is there a problem?”

By now, Samantha’s thrown down her bouquet and tossed aside her veil, showing off a long cascade of flowing platinum hair. Of course, it’s dyed because there are tell-tale brown roots around her temples and ears.

“Oh, Faith, Faith, Faith. When will you ever learn? You love your mama, I know, but this is too much. You shouldn’t have.”

By now, my girlfriend has steam coming from her ears.

“What the fuck is going on?” she grits through her teeth. “Someone tell me, otherwise I’m going to scream!”

With that, Samantha finally casts a devilish look my way.

“Why, Hunter is my ex-husband of course! Don’t tell me you didn’t know, sweetie. Hunter and I were married back in the day, which means that you’re dating your own stepfather! Who does that? Faith, you’ve always been a devious one, but I had no idea you were this twisted.”

With that, my girlfriend turns to me, her brown eyes filled with horror.

“You were married to my mom?” she whispers. “Oh my God!”

“Honey, I had no idea,” I begin in a rush. “If I had known, I never would have –”

“Boinked her?” Samantha asks spitefully. “Put your dick into a mother-daughter duo? Because really, who fucks both a mother and her daughter, Hunter?”

With that, I turn to the evil woman with murder in my eyes as my world comes crashing down.

9

Faith

* * *

My head spins as the facts hit home. Hunter is my mother’s ex-husband? How is this possible? Yes, my mom has been married multiple times, but at no point did Samantha ever mention a Hunter Stockton. When did this happen? How can this be my life?

My palms sweat as my hands hang limply by my sides. I can’t move or breathe because maybe if I remain perfectly still, I’ll wake up from this nightmare. This can’t be reality. I must be dreaming.

But one look at Hunter’s stricken face tells me that my mother isn’t lying. Granted, he looks just as horrified as I feel, but it means that Samantha and Hunter really were married at some point.

“Shut the fuck up,” my boyfriend grits through his teeth, staring daggers at my mom. “Just keep your trap closed.”

But Samantha has never taken kindly to instructions. Instead, she throws her head back and lets out a loud cackle, befitting of a witch.

“Tell my daughter to keep her legs closed! You’re fucking two women who are genetically related, Hunter! Who’s the dumbass now?”

He literally growls at her, rage in those blue eyes.

“There’s no ill intent here,” he rasps. “I didn’t know!”