Page 10 of Dream On, Liar

I barely had time to take another step before the sound of footsteps echoed in from the opposite corridor.

As though bracing myself for impact, I held my breath before I turned and for a second, it felt like the entire house held its breath with me.

His gaze didn’t land on me, not yet. “Dad? You’re back earlier than you said—”

And there he was.

The one person I’d never expected to find standing in this house, not like this. Not here. Not ever.

The secret that had split everything open.

My half-brother.

For a moment, neither of us moved as silence dropped the house. The distance between us wasn’t much, just a few steps across a room that had seen too many versions of my family already, but it might as well have been something else entirely.

And I realised, standing there, that whatever I’d come here for had just been swallowed whole by something far bigger than me.

“Rihaan.” My name landed like something misplaced. Ishaan stood a few feet away, gone still in that careful, measured way people get when they sense a crack in the room. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

I wish I hadn’t.

I cleared my throat, gave him a curt nod. “Wasn’t planned.” The words came easily, no longer in the mood to see my—our father. My mind jumbled with an excuse as I shifted, walking further inside the house.

“Does Dad know you’re coming?” He frowned, and it took more effort than it should have not to react to how easily he said it. Dad. It wasn’t wrong, he had every right to the word. Still, even among the rest of my siblings, it had never sounded like that. Not…full. Not the way it did when he said it.

“I was nearby,” I replied. “My head coach lives down the street,” I added, too quickly before he had a chance to catch my lie. “Just grabbing something from Dev’s room.”

“Huh.” He shifted, a frown settling on his face. “Weird. I wonder why he didn’t ask me to pick it up.”

I froze. “He knows you’re here?”

My attention that had been split between the house and him, was now focused completely on him. His expression had already started to change, like he was replaying his own words and realising he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

“I—nothing, I just—” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah. He knows I’m here. I’ve been shadowing him. Well, technically it’s a placement for my MBA...but you get it.” He trailed off at my expression.

“How long?” My voice didn’t rise.

“Ten months?”

Ten months, and this was the first time I’d learned about it.

“And he knew you’d be here today?”

“Yeah. I’m here every Monday.”

Of course you are.

I nodded once, sharp. Something tight coiled behind my ribs. “Why?”

That caught him off guard. His brows pulled together, like the question itself didn’t make sense.

“Lunch,” he said. “Dad and I always have lunch together once a week on Mondays—well, we used to do Wednesdays, but with my schedule it changed.”

Always.

The word scraped.

“Since when?”