Old Enough For The Truth

Four of them piled back into the beach house after a killer day at the park. Laura and Eric slipped off to toss together dinner, leaving Jordan and Oliver planted on the couch, staring at the ceiling fan like it owed them answers. They knew something was up—the fancy trip, the sudden generosity. After the table was cleared, the parents just kept smiling too hard, pouring more wine, dropping weird compliments. Jordan finally cracked and called it: what the hell were they working toward? Laura and Eric fidgeted, then spat it out. They weren’t even a couple when they met; they were stepsiblings themselves, fresh out of high school, balls-deep in a secret, sweaty affair until the family busted them and kicked them both out. They’d tried marrying “normal” people after that—Laura became Jordan’s stepmom, Eric became Oliver’s stepdad—but their old itch never left. Once the ink dried on the divorces, they crawled back to each other and stayed hidden. Now they wanted to come clean and “bring the family together,” which meant one collective fuckfest: Laura and Eric laid it on the table like it was the most natural thing in the world. Jordan and Oliver sat frozen, mouths open, too stunned to bolt.