His Half Brother Wants Me

Yolanda's POV "Every single picture looks nice, Yolanda. Great job." My boss, Reed Statham, praised me as we scrolled through the pictures I'd taken for a brand earlier that day on my laptop.

"Thanks, Reed." I smiled, my heart warm with mirth.

Like it always did whenever he gave me a compliment.

That, among many other reasons, was why I had secretly been in love with him for almost a decade.

Nine years ago, we met on my first day of high school, when the seniors had given us an orientation talk.

He was the president of the photography club, and the instant fifteenyearold me saw the charismatic eighteenyearold self giving a speech on the podium, I had fallen head over heels for him.

Immediately, I collected a form for the photography club, and the level of attention that Reed had given me, as I filled it, had only made me even more smitten.

When he graduated high school, I was inconsolable for days.

Eventually, I resolved to move on from my little crush.

However, the universe seemed to want us together because I met him again at a campus event in my first year.

Back then, Reed was in his final year.

It felt like a blissful occurrence of deja vu.

To get him to notice me, I learnt photography on my own, then started volunteering at his company as one.

Desperate to remain close to him, I continued to volunteer at his company, even after he graduated and his company moved locations, months later.

I didn't mind the two hour bus ride I had to take there almost everyday, provided I got to see Reed.

Fortunately, my choice paid off.

We became so close, that the other employees started spreading rumors of us being a thing.

Pleasantly enough, Reed didn't seem repulsed by any of those rumors.

I even thought he had finally fallen for me, but my expectation was crushed, when he introduced his girlfriend, Penelope, to me.

She was admittedly beautiful and based in Florida.

After graduating college on top of my class with an accounting degree, I went on to reject job offers from several multinational accounting firms.

Instead, I opted to work as a photographer at Reed's startup media firm.

Being in love with Reed made me center most of my life's decisions around him, and honestly, I didn't regret it one bit.

Especially since I absolutely loved being a photographer.

Reed later ended things with Penelope, a month after I officially became his employee.

Following their break up, he was single for over a year, and I took it as a sign from the universe to grab the bull by its horns and profess my feelings to him.

I even went as far as mapping out a plan.

First, I would ask him to hangout after work and we would go wherever he wanted.

After that, I would lay my heart out, hoping for the best.

However, on the day I chose to do it, I was utterly gutted when he broke the news of him and Penelope rekindling their relationship.

Truthfully, I wasn't even his type.

He preferred blonde girls with blue eyes.

Exactly like Penelope.

Being a brunette with hazel eyes, I was the complete opposite.

"Yolanda?" Reed's velvety voice caressed my ears, pulling me out of my mind.

"Yes?" I replied, inwardly hoping I hadn't been mindlessly gaping at him all these while that I was distorted from reality.

"A cent for your thoughts?" He asked, concern evident in his voice, "Is something going on with you?"

How was I supposed to not harbor feelings for him when he treated me like this?

I want you to love me just as much as I love you, Reed, I thought, staring at his enchanting emerald eyes.

"No," I replied instead, "It's nothing important."

"Are you sure?" He asked, seemingly unconvinced.

"One hundred percent."

"I will choose to take your word for it then," He replied, "Before I forget, there's something I want to share with you."

My heart scudded at his utterance.

In the nine years we'd known each other, he had never said something like this, with a serious expression.

"What is that?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"I am proposing to Penelope soon," He replied, and right there and then, the delusion that he perhaps wanted to confess his love for me, dissipated instantly.

My heart plunged into the deepest part of my belly, as I mulled over his utterance.

To say I never saw this coming wouldn't be far from the truth at all.

Nowadays, Reed rarely ever spoke about Penelope, and I had even thought that they were no longer dating.

Just for him to spring this sort of news on me.

At that very moment, the reality that my love for him would forever remain a secret, struck me like a wicked stepmother.

I couldn't even think straight anymore, as Reed's airconditioned office suddenly felt like a furnace.

Now I realized why some people said that being heartbroken was one of the worst calamities that could befall a person.

The fact that Reed and I hadn't even dated, and yet, it felt like my heart was about to shoot out of my chest, made me feel even more pathetic.

"Oh," I said, a painful tide of despair eroding my insides, "That's really huge. Congratulations."

"Thank you so much, Yolanda," He smiled, clearly oblivious to my inner turmoil, "Wait, I need to show you something."

I didn't trust myself not to burst out crying if I spoke, so I settled on nodding.

Reed then brought out a small green leathery box, and opened it.

Lo and behold, it was a gorgeous, cleancut diamond ring, that had certainly cost a fortune.

But the more I looked at it, the heavier the despondence weighing on my chest got.

"Wow, it's gorgeous," I chose to be truthful.

Had I listened to my best friend, Zoey, when she advised me to move on from Reed, a few years back, I wouldn't be in this sad situation.

However, I didn't want to listen to the harsh truth, so we got into an argument and stopped speaking for a year.

Later when we settled our differences, she never brought him up again.

Now, I couldn't even imagine telling her that Reed was proposing to Penelope.

Even if she didn't show it, she would probably make fun of me in private.

Honestly, I felt more anger than pity for myself.

I mean, why had I chosen to remain in my bubble of delusions, thinking Reed would automatically develop feelings for me someday, instead of living my own life?

The whole matter was no one's fault, but mine.

After all, Reed never gave me any signals, not to talk of mixed signals, but I had chosen to be stupid.

"Do you think she will like it?"

Despite the despair festering within me, I nodded, "Definitely. Excuse me, I have to start editing the pictures."

"Right, that's true," He replied, closing the box, "We will talk more about the proposal later because I still haven't figured out how to go about it."

Being present while the love of my life proposed to the woman he loved, would absolutely destroy me, and I knew I couldn't have that.

Regardless, I nodded, "Sure."

Immediately I got to my office, I broke down in tears, as I wept for the time and opportunity I had lost because of my idiocy.

Never in the past two years since I had gotten my own office had I been so grateful for it, until now, as I was able to freely cry, without worrying about an office mate.

When I was done weeping, I opened my laptop and  typed up a resignation letter.

I couldn't stay beside Reed anymore.

Honestly, I couldn't believe I had spent almost a decade of my life, single and fixated on a man, who would never see me as an ideal romantic partner.

Moving on from Reed, was definitely going to be the hardest thing I had ever done in my entire life.

As I slotted the printed letter into an envelope, my phone started to ring.

Checking the caller ID, I saw my mum's details displayed across the screen, so I swiped right.

Sniffling, I began, "Hel"

I wasn't allowed to complete my statement as a strange woman's frantic voice wafted into my ears, with a news that almost made my heart stop.

"Yolanda, please come to the hospital right away. Your mother collapsed."

Yolanda's POV

"Here, sir," My hand was shaky as I handed the cab driver my fare.

At that moment, the blood in my veins had been replaced by fear, as I could do nothing but fear the worst.

How could something like this happen to my mother?

"You gave me more," He said, giving me a thirty dollar bill, concern prominent in his gaze, "I hope everything turns out fine. You seemed spaced out during the entire ride."

"My," I began to say before tears clogged my throat, "TThank you."

Stepping down from the cab, I bounded past the glass doors of the hospital, my entire body awash with anxiety.

It was only then I realized I didn't even tell anyone before leaving work, as I'd been consumed by my thoughts.

But then again, was it even necessary?

Especially since my resignation letter was currently on my desk.

Pushing down every Reed related thoughts, I raked my fingers through my hair frantically, as my mind strayed to my poor mum.

She was the only family I had, and the only parent I had ever known my entire life.

According to her, her sperm donor, because I could never bring myself to call him my father, had abandoned us, a month before I was born.

My mum was the strongest woman I knew, especially since I had never once seen her cry over him.

She had only told me the story when I was eleven, as I wouldn't stop bugging her about why I was the only person in my entire class without a dad.

And ever since, I knew better than to bring up the matter again.

Now, I certainly knew that my mum and I were unlucky with love.

"Yolanda?" A middleaged woman clad in teal scrubs called me as I walked to the nurses' station, and my panic heightened.

"YYes, I'm her," I nodded fervently, "Where is my mum?"

"She is in the recovery room," The woman replied, offering me a handshake, "I'm Alice Peters, your mum's colleague and friend."

It had barely been a year since my mum started working as a cleaner at the hospital, and now, this was happening.

"Oh," I replied, as we shook hands, "It's sad we are meeting this way. What happened to her?"

"I have no idea myself," She replied, "I found Giselle lying lifelessly on the floor of the storage room an hour ago."

While I was having a mental breakdown about the news of Reed proposing to Penelope, my poor mother had been close to death.

At times, I couldn't help but wonder if her sperm donor leaving us, and subsequently, my birth, had derailed my mother from pursuing her life's goal.

In the past when I had asked if she had a dream career, she had somehow managed to change the subject, instead of answering the question.

"Thanks for finding her," I said.

Giving my hand a firm but reassuring squeeze, Miss Alice said, "There is no need for that, dear. Also, the doctor wants to see you."

My heart plunged as goosebumps enveloped my entire being, "It's serious, isn't it? Is she in a coma? Is she bleeding from her brain?"

"I honestly don't know anything because she has refused to speak to anyone who isn't Giselle's family," Miss Alice replied, and I nodded, my mind plunging deep into an abysmal pit of dread.

"You are coming with me, right?" I asked, when Miss Alice stopped at the door.

"No, the doctor wants to see you alone," The older woman divulged, and I felt chills race down my spine.

"I see," I muttered, absentmindedly fiddling with my fingers.

Sensing my distress, Miss Alice took my hands in hers, "But don't you think worry, I will wait outside."

"Okay, Miss Alice," I croaked, swallowing the lump of tears clogging my throat.

"Just knock and go in. I wish you the best." She replied, before giving me a gentle shoulder pat.

Thereafter, she left.

Inhaling sharply, I followed Miss Alice's advice and gave the door a light knock before turning the doorknob open.

Walking into the office filled me with a dreadful sense of apprehension, that sent chills racing down my spine.

I did my best to remain calm as I came face to face with the doctor, who looked like she was in her late twenties.

"Hello, doctor," I stopped to read the name tag pinned to her coat, "Jones. I'm Yolanda, Giselle Monroe's daughter."

"Hello, Miss Monroe," She said, then motioned to the chair opposite her, "Please sit down."

"Thank you," I replied, inwardly hoping that I appeared as calm as I thought I was, at that moment, "So, what exactly happened to my mum? Will she be okay? She's not in a coma, right?"

At that moment, my mind was bombarded with several questions.

"Please calm down and take a deep breath, Miss Yolanda," The doctor said, her eyes brimming with concern, "I'm your mum's oncologist, so I'll explain everything to you, okay?"

"OOkay," I nodded, my voice a shaky rasp, as I inhaled shakily.

After a moment, my chest felt less tight, however, panic still thrummed through my veins.

"Good. To answer your questions, your mother has metastatic liver cancer, and according to the biopsy that was conducted a week ago, we found out that it has now metastasized to her stomach, lungs, and uterus." She paused, allowing the devastating statement to sink in.

And that exactly it did.

"Oh, god," I whispered, my hands flying over my mouth.

"Miss Giselle has known about her condition for the past three months," The doctor landed another crushing blow, "Judging from your reaction, she must have kept it a secret from you."

I could only nod in response, as the ability to form a statement suddenly seemed to evade me at that moment.

Chills raced down my spine, as I pondered how I couldn't have possibly noticed that something was wrong with her.

But then again, my mum had never been one to share her worries.

Not even with me, her daughter.

She would argue that since she was my mother, it would be shameless of her to burden me with her issues.

As though she had family somewhere else.

From what she told me when I was younger, her family weren't in good terms with each other, and she didn't want to ever reunite with them.

I figured it was probably because she had me out of wedlock, but I'd decided to spare her the heartbreak by not asking any questions.

To think we lived in the same house and saw each other everyday, and yet mum had pretended everything was fine for three good months.

Had she planned on hiding her condition from me forever, only to leave with the shock of losing her one day?

"WWhat next now?" I finally managed after a while.

"Miss Giselle was supposed to get surgery followed by chemotherapy after she found out, but due to lack of financial constraints, she couldn't," The doctor divulged, and my heart sank, "Now, the cancer has progressed drastically, so she needs surgery immediately. After that, chemotherapy will follow."

"How much would that be?" I was near tears as I asked.

"This is a breakdown of the fees," Doctor Jones replied, before sliding a piece of paperwork toward me.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I beheld the magnanimous amount.

Five million, three hundred and seventy thousand dollars with nine cents.

This had to be a nightmare.

Even if I worked everyday for the next ten years, I wouldn't be able to save up to a quarter of that amount.

How and where was I supposed to even get a huge amount of money like that from?

At that moment, I felt a sudden need to get out of her office, as I felt suffocated.

I wanted to go for a walk to lessen the torrent of thoughts ravaging my mind at that moment.

Standing up, I said, "II will be right back."

Before the doctor could respond, I exited her office in a rush.

"We will talk later please," I told Miss Alice when I saw her.

"Alright." She nodded, her gaze sympathetic yet motherly, which reminded me of my mum.

It felt like my heart was about to shoot out of my chest, as I walked out of the hospital, completely annihilated by the new development.

As I walked down a quiet alleyway, a large colorful poster caught my attention, pulling me out of my discomfiting mind bubble.

"Need a loan? Look no further. Just ring us at +1 (212) 5550199. At Stanford loaning services, we offer financial help, without asking you for a collateral or a guarantor."

There was absolutely no way that this was real.

Who lent someone money without asking for anything?

Nowadays, human trafficking rings would masquerade as shady businesses like this one, and people who were desperate and unfortunate enough, would end up falling into their trap.

Without sparing the poster another glance, I continued walking

Yolanda's POV

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of shuffling nearby.

Blinking my eyes open, I saw that the waiting room, where I'd spent the night, was now packed.

For a split second, I felt a twinge of embarrassment.

But, when I remembered the reason why I was in the hospital, my shame vanished completely.

Last night, I had emptied out my savings of sixteen thousand dollars which unfortunately didn't even amount to one fifth of the medical bill.

Checking my mother's bank account had brought tears to my eyes, as she had just three dollars in her name.

According to her transaction history, she made generous donations to orphanages monthly.

Even though she earned peanuts.

My mum's heart was just too pure.

"Good morning, Miss Monroe," A nurse greeted me as she came up to me.

"Good morning," I replied, my heart flying to my throat, as I tried but failed not to think of the worst.

"Your mother is awake and has been moved to the female ward. Would you like to see her?" She asked, and I instantly shot up from my seat, causing the nurse to regard me strangely.

But, I didn't care because I would finally get to see my mother.

"Yes, please." I replied.

A moment later as I followed the nurse into the ward, my chest tightened as I beheld different patients, with various levels of illness.

My heart sank when we finally reached my mum's bed.

Within a single day, my mum had become a complete shadow of herself.

How was this even possible?

I had seen her yesterday before heading to work, and she'd seemed full of life.

Now, she laid gaunt and deathly pallor on the bed, with three machines beeping beside her, and a tube in her throat.

Stifling the urge to burst into tears, I gently placed my hand on her shoulder, and she slowly blinked her eyes open.

I sniffled, and she shakily reached out to cradle my face.

"Hi, mum," I whispered, my breath hitching my throat.

Since she was constrained by the tube, mum couldn't open her mouth to speak to me, which made my stomach curl up in despondent knots.

A lone tear streamed down her left cheek then, filling me with despair.

She was clearly beating herself up for her situation.

Wiping off her tears with my hands, I said, "Please don't cry, mum. This is not your fault."

As badly as I wanted to break down in tears right there and then, I pulled myself together because I didn't want her to cry anymore.

Smoothening down her flyaways, I pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"I will make sure you get better, okay?" I said, and she shook her head languidly, as though she was telling me not to do it.

A classic selfless move from her

"Bye, mum." I whispered, tenderly stroking her shoulder.

As I walked out of the ward, I finally turned on the waterworks, my heart clenching with despair.

Never in my life had I felt so helpless.

I had made an empty promise to my mum, that I wasn't even sure about how or if I was ever going to make it happen.

So, I had basically lied to her.

Exhaling heavily, I wiped off my tears and returned to the waiting room.

Then, I retracted my phone from my bag for the first time that morning, to check for missed calls and unread messages.

I wasn't at all surprised to see that I had missed a string of Reed's calls, and he had also sent me loads of messages.

Some of my colleagues had also texted me, regarding my sudden resignation.

I chose to send them all a broadcast message, informing them that I'd resigned for personal reasons.

My heart almost flew out of my throat as I clicked Reed's text thread open.

"Are you doing fine, Yolanda? I saw the resignation letter. Why are you quitting all of a sudden? Also, please pick up. Let's talk things out." His first message read.

Without giving it a thought, I deleted all the messages and proceeded to block him as well.

Although, doing it made me feel like a bad person, I knew I had to do it, because I just couldn't deal with anything related to him right now.

I had bigger fish to fry.

Scrolling down my inbox, I saw a message from Zoey.

"I am tired of law school. Come rescue me please." Her message read, causing me to smile for the first time since yesterday.

Her bar finals were in a week, and my best friend was actively and understandably losing her marbles.

Telling her about my own issues would only cause her to worry, which was the last thing she needed right now.

Her college was six hours away, but we often got together at least once in a month, whenever she came around to visit her family.

"I'm rooting for you, my future lawyer." I typed and sent to her, just as my stomach started rumbling.

Right.

The last time I ate was yesterday morning.

Digging into my bag, I found the fifty dollars that Miss Alice gave me last night, after I recounted everything the doctor told me to her, albeit I had avoided telling her the amount needed.

I really didn't need her worrying about it.

My phone dinged with a message then, "Thanks, babes. I'm off to study. Take care of yourself and extend my regards to your mum."

"Okay. You too." I replied, my heart breaking for the umpteenth time that afternoon as I thought about my mum's predicament.

I stared into the voidness in front of me for a moment, before standing up and going out to the main road, where I took a cab home.

There, I freshened up, packed some clothes for my mum, and also had a packet of instant noodles, as I didn't feel inclined to have a proper meal.

Hours later, as I reentered the visiting room after dropping off my mum's hospital bag in her corner, a wild thought flashed through my mind.

I could give Stanford loaning services a trial.

Truthfully, even if I managed to get a new job, I could never get the money needed for my mum's medical bills.

Also, delaying payment could be extreme dangerous, especially as my mum's condition had deteriorated drastically.

Before I could think too much of it, I searched them up, but was surprised to see that they had no address listed on the internet.

Just their phone number.

Instead of being suspicious, I copied the number and called it.

My heart pounded against my ribs in a manic mix of dread tinged with anticipation, as I waited for someone to pick up.

On the third ring, the line clicked.

"Hello, this is Stanford loaning services. How may we be of service to you?" A man's voice came from the other end, causing an unsettling feeling to hang over me like a cloak, but I chose to pay it no mind.

Scanning around the waiting room, I saw that I was thankfully the only person there.

"I need a loan. I saw on the poster that I don't need collateral or a guarantor. Is that true?"

"Yes, ma'am," He replied, to my utter relief.

"So, how do I go about it?"

"Kindly send us your location and someone will there to pick you up shortly." The man responded, and my brows furrowed in confusion.

"Why can't I come there by myself?"

"Our policy doesn't enable us to share our location with potential clients. I hope you understand." He said.

At that point, I should have taken that as a warning sign and hung up, but I didn't.

Instead, I went on to give him the hospital's address.

Being desperate and at a dead end had me disregarding my safety completely.

Exactly thirty minutes later, the same number called to inform me that one of their representatives had gotten to the hospital.

Stepping out, I saw a black, sleek Mercedes Benz parked out front, with a suitclad man standing beside it.

Immediately our eyes met, I knew he was here for me.

What kind of a loaning service used a luxurious car like this to pick up their client? The question remained unanswered in my mind.

"Hi, are you with Stanford?" I asked to make sure, as I walked to the car.

"Yes, ma'am," He responded, before opening the back door for me to enter.

Looking in, I saw an opulent interior that made chills race down my spine, but I chose to be brave and got into the car.

Moments later as he drove onto the highway, I could only hope that I hadn't foolishly fallen into a human trafficking trap.