Sins Of Her Venom
Chapter 98: Her Parents

Chapter 98: Her Parents

-Kathrine Andrews: (Song of the Chapter: Headlock by Imogenheap)

Her gaze dipped, dragging over my face, and my lips, before flicking back up to meet my eyes again. There was something dark in her expression—something hungry.

I knew, right then and there, that if I made a move, she wouldn’t stop me.

But before I could do anything—before I could act on the overwhelming urge to grab her, to kiss her until I couldn’t breathe—someone called Kat’s name from across the cafeteria.

She exhaled, slow and sharp, before rolling her eyes and leaning back.

"Looks like we’ll have to finish this later," she murmured, standing up and stretching like she hadn’t just sent my entire fucking brain into a meltdown.

I sat there, fists clenched in my lap, trying to regulate my breathing.

And as Kat walked away, I realized something.

I was so fucking screwed.

———-

Saturday morning, I was sprawled out on my bed, enjoying the rare luxury of a weekend with no school, no obligations, and no one demanding my attention.

I had barely woken up when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it lazily, expecting some random notification, but my brows lifted when I saw Glyndon’s name.

Glyndon: Can you come over?

That was it. No explanation, no extra words, just a simple request.

I stared at the message for a few seconds, debating whether I even wanted to go. After everything that happened at school yesterday—the arguing, the drama, the way she publicly sat next to me in the cafeteria as if staking her claim—I didn’t know where we stood. The idea that Glyndon was serious about me still felt surreal.

Still, I found myself getting up, pulling on some casual clothes, and heading out. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else.

When I arrived at her house, I knocked on the door, half-expecting a housekeeper to answer, but instead, Glyndon pulled the door open herself. The second I saw her, I knew something was wrong.

She looked pale—like she hadn’t slept at all. Her eyes were shadowed, and her lips were pressed together tightly like she was holding back something big.

I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. "You look like shit," I said bluntly, studying her. "What’s going on?"

She swallowed hard, leading me into the living room before finally exhaling. "I want to come out to my parents."

I blinked, caught off guard. I hadn’t expected that. "Okay..." I said slowly, crossing my arms. "And you are telling me this because...?"

She gave me a weak, humorless smile. "Because I’m scared."

That was the first time I had ever heard Glyndon admit to being scared. The girl who used to spit insults at me without hesitation, who walked through school like she owned the place, who had grabbed me by the collar and kissed me like she had nothing to lose—that girl was scared.

I sat down on the couch, gesturing for her to do the same. "Why now?"

She hesitated before sitting beside me. Her fingers twitched like she wanted to grab something—maybe my hand, maybe just something to hold on to. "Because I’m done hiding. I’m done pretending. And after yesterday..." She exhaled sharply. "Everyone at school already knows. What’s the point of keeping it from my family?"

I nodded, understanding that part. "And what do you think they are going to say?"

She let out a dry laugh. "I have no fucking idea."

That was the real problem. She didn’t know. She had spent her entire life pretending to be someone she wasn’t, and now that she was ready to stop pretending, she had no clue how her family would react.

I thought about my parents—how easy it had been for me.

The way they had simply nodded when I told them I was gay, how my dad had shrugged and said, ’Okay, cool. What do you want for dinner?’ They never made me feel like it was something to be ashamed of. But Glyndon... she wasn’t me. And her family wasn’t like mine. If anything they are the complete opposite of mine.

"Do you want me to be here when you do it?" I asked, my voice quieter now.

She looked at me then, really looked at me. Her eyes searched mine, and for a second, she seemed to be debating something. Then, she nodded. "Yeah. I do."

I sighed, leaning back on the couch. "Alright. Then I’ll stay."

Glyndon let out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping the hem of her hoodie like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. "Thanks," she muttered.

I tilted my head, smirking slightly. "You do realize you’re making this sound like you’re about to go into battle, right?"

She scoffed, shaking her head. "It kind of feels like it."

I didn’t push her. Instead, I just sat there, waiting. If she needed time to gather her courage, I would give it to her. But one thing was clear—this was a huge moment for her. And for some reason, she wanted me to be here for it.

And that... that did something weird to my chest.

I followed Glyndon deeper into the house, my footsteps light against the polished wooden floor. The place smelled faintly of fresh coffee and something sweet—maybe pancakes or waffles. Despite the tension rolling off Glyndon in waves, the house itself felt warm, lived-in.

The living room was massive, the kind of space you’d expect in a magazine. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the morning light, making the cream-colored furniture look even softer. A large, L-shaped couch sat in the middle, facing a sleek, wall-mounted TV.

The coffee table in front of it was stacked with books, a few magazines, and a decorative bowl filled with polished stones.

Everything was neat but not in a staged way—more like a house that was lived in, where people sat around and spent time together.

To the right of the living room, an arched doorway led into the dining area. That’s where her parents were.

The dining room was just as impressive—high ceilings, a massive rectangular table made of dark wood, and chairs that looked like they belonged in some fancy five-star restaurant.

A chandelier hung above the table, not one of those gaudy crystal ones but something modern, with black metal framing and warm lights that cast a soft glow.

Glyndon’s parents were already seated, eating breakfast.

Her dad was the first one I noticed. He was a big man—not just tall, but broad, with a bit of a belly that pushed against his T-shirt.

He had dark brown hair that was graying at the temples and a neatly trimmed beard.

His face was kind, even though he looked like the kind of guy who could snap a person in half if he wanted to.

He gave off the vibe of a man who enjoyed life, probably cracked dad jokes, and had a laugh that filled the whole room.

Her mom, on the other hand, looked nothing like him. She was stunning—like one of those women who only got better with age.

Her honey-blonde hair was styled in effortless waves, falling just past her shoulders. She had piercing green eyes and high cheekbones, her complexion smooth and lightly tanned.

Right now, she was on the phone, her manicured fingers wrapped around a coffee mug while she spoke in a hushed voice, probably finishing up a call before giving us her full attention.

When they noticed us, her dad was the first to speak. "Glyndon, come in! Have some breakfast." His voice was warm, and welcoming, like he had no idea his daughter was on the verge of a life-changing conversation.

Then he glanced at me and smiled. "Oh, you brought your friend! Hi there. Come on in, have breakfast with us, dear."

Her mom ended her call, setting her phone down before flashing me a charming smile. "Good morning! You must be Kathrine. We’ve heard a lot about you."

I stiffened slightly, glancing at Glyndon, but she was too busy looking horrified to notice. A lot about me? What the hell had she been saying about me to her parents?

Before I could ask, Glyndon let out an awkward cough. "Uh, yeah. This is Kathrine. She’s, um..." She trailed off like she wasn’t sure what to say.

I smirked slightly and finished for her. "I’m her friend."

Her mom’s eyes sparkled with something unreadable. "Mhm. Well, it’s lovely to meet you, dear."

Glyndon’s dad gestured toward the table. "Come on, sit down. There’s plenty of food."

Glyndon hesitated, and for a second, I thought she was going to back out, say ’never mind’ and run back up to her room. But then, she squared her shoulders and nodded. "Okay."

We walked over and took our seats at the table, the smell of fresh coffee and maple syrup surrounding us.

Plates were spread out, filled with scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and a stack of golden pancakes in the center. There was fresh orange juice in a glass pitcher and a bowl of mixed fruit.

Glyndon’s mom poured herself another cup of coffee before glancing at us. "So, what’s the occasion? It’s not like you to wake up this early on a Saturday, Glyndon."

I glanced at Glyndon, waiting to see how she’d respond. Her fingers twitched against the edge of the table, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. I could tell she was nervous, but she was trying to play it off.

"Oh, you know," Glyndon said, forcing a smile. "Just... thought it was time to talk."

Her dad raised an eyebrow, chewing on a piece of bacon. "Talk about what?"

I could practically feel Glyndon’s heart pounding next to me. She took a deep breath, gripping her fork so tightly her knuckles turned white. Then, finally, she said it.

"About me."

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