The Annoying Stepmom

Scarlett’s lips curled slightly, and it made her bright red lipstick look even more noticeable.

And just like that, she moved into our house without any fuss.

A new towel appeared on the bathroom rack, and a new cup with her toothbrush showed up on the sink.

But she did not just want to add her things to the house. She wanted to erase everything that reminded us of my mom and replace it with her own stuff.

She made huge changes.

She replaced the couch, threw out the cabinets, and even removed the kitchen hood. The house looked completely different.

She even wanted to take down my mom’s wedding photo that hung in my room.

When my mom left, she took everything she could.

The heavy wedding photo no longer held much meaning for her, so she left it behind. In the end, it became the only thing I had to remember her by.

Sometimes, when I looked at the photo, at my mom’s face that felt both familiar and distant, it almost felt like she was looking back at me.

Today, my dad was at work, and Scarlett had the day off.

I was in my room doing homework when she walked in with a plate of sliced fruit. She knocked lightly on the door and said in a fake, friendly tone, “Are you tired? Have some fruit and take a break.”

I glanced at her and quietly slid my phone, which was still on, under a book.

She noticed what I did but did not say anything. Instead, she turned to look at the wedding photo and started studying it.

She stared at the photo of my mom and said, “You’re as pretty as your mom. But a big photo like this doesn’t look good on the wall. I’m planning to renovate your room and put a cabinet here. You should take the photo down.”

Her tone was polite, and it sounded like she was doing it for me.

But I could see the malice and dislike in her eyes as she looked at my mom’s face in the photo.

I simply said, “No.”

She did not expect me to refuse so directly. The speech she had prepared was useless. After a moment, she tried again and talked at length to convince me.

But I kept saying no. I was cold and distant each time.

After getting rejected repeatedly, her face darkened, and she left my room.

When she called me for lunch, she was cold. She stopped pretending to be warm or trying to get my approval like before.

But as soon as my dad came home that evening, she ran to complain to him.

Of course, she did not mention the wedding photo.

Instead, she put on a guilty look and said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have bought her that phone. It’s my fault. I thought it would help her study or relax a bit.

“But today, she said she was doing homework, yet she stayed in her room all day playing on it. When I brought her some fruit, she quickly hid it under a book. I wonder what she’s using her phone for.”

I never thought she would complain to my dad so directly.

Before this, anyone who saw me using my phone, whether relatives or family friends, would either say nothing or remind me to stop in private.

None of them told my dad about it like she did.

That night, my dad had been drinking. After hearing her, he got furious. With a cigarette in his mouth, he kicked my door open.