All Chapters of In Bed With My Step-uncle : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

ROSE’S POVI spent the night locked in Monique's apartment. Now it’s morning and reality is waiting.The bitter coffee burns my tongue, but I accept the pain. It’s the only thing keeping me balanced. "I panicked, Mon," I whisper. Monique says nothing, she stares at with understanding. "I couldn't go through with the engagement. I couldn't continue saying 'yes ma'am' to my mom forever. I had to get out. Thanks for letting me crash at your place." My voice cracks. "I need to go home soon."Monique finally sets her coffee down. "Home? You call that home?""It’s where my mom is." "Correct."I struggle to let out a hollow laugh, but it dies in my throat. My phone vibrates for the seventh time in an hour—Mom. I don't need to check."Did you call him?" Monique asks, staring at my phone.I nod, fingers trembling around the paper cup. "Ryan picked up after two rings. I told him not to let them find me," but that's not all...He asked where I was, and I couldn't give him an answer.Monique fli

ROSE'S POVIt's Ryan. My stomach knots. I quicken my pace. I don't need comfort—especially not from him. Not tonight. My feet move faster than my thoughts, but they know where they're going. The lyrics passes from the headphones straight to my brain. You're shattered like you've never been before.Tell your heart to beat againI run past buildings surrounded by high fences, down a quiet street with only a few vehicles driving by, and no soul in sight.My legs only stop when I reach the wide, open field. I’m out of breath. The church comes into view. Holy. Untouched. My knees buckle and I drop to the ground. I try to fight it, to stop the tears from dropping but tears still come, soaking my face as I stare at the church building in the center of the cleared field. I can't explain why I’m here, why I still feel safe here. I’m not religious. I’m not anything anymore.One of the window is cracked open. The priest is likely inside, but I don't want to disturb him. I silence my sobs and

RYAN'S POVAs we step out of my car and walk towards toward the house, Rose remains silent—just like during the ride from the church. Her fingers trembles slightly. I can still taste her sweet hesitation on my lips. She stops before we reach the porch, casually brushing her fingers through her chestnut colored hair. But there's nothing casual about the way she closes her eyes and inhale slowly or the way she cleans her lips as if cleaning off my taste. Her smile, too smooth and rehearsed curves her lips as she shoves the door open and steps in. Like kissing her step-uncle never happened. Or maybe it didn't affect her.The laughter and chatter we heard from outside fades into hushed whispers as we enter the living room."Micah!" Rose calls out too brightly, leaping in excitement into the arms of one of the men on the couch. She throws her arms around his neck in a passionate hug. But her laugh sounds a little forced, I wonder if he hears it too.Micah looks like her, only older—same

RYAN'S POV It’s been five days since the kiss in the church. Since I watched my Rose run away from me. And still, I can't stop thinking about the taste of her lips, the fear in her eyes, the way she tactically avoided me afterward. Five days of burying myself in business, trying to ignore the truth but I noticed the signs. The engagement is still happening. I adjust the red bow tie around my neck and glance at the drawer where I locked Desmond’s envelope nights ago. "It’s safe there," I mutter under my breath. "I’ll never open it." I leave my room and move into the hallway. The mansion is luxuriously decorated. Downstairs, the chatters, laughter and clinking of glases overwhelm the piano melody. It's sad really because there won't be an engagement ceremony today. "Good job." I say, tapping the handyman on his back as he scrambles to finish stepup. Leaning against the railings, I watch the guests file in below. The hall glows in beautiful colors, the scent of roses from every corn

ROSE'S POV I'm sitting in the rumpled mess of my engagement gown—hair undone, heels in hand, untouched champagne by my side. The stars illuminate my tired form on the veranda. The event ended hours ago. The house is silent. Some guests returned to their homes. Others passed out in the grand hall. This engagement isn’t what I want—not to Alex, not to Desmond. Not with my heart yearning for the impossible… Ryan. I ran once. I thought I’d escaped. But mom has a way of always bringing me back here. I said yes to Desmond, to save the people I love. To keep the house from crumbling. To stop my mother from calling me an embarrassment. The cameras, Desmond's hands holding mine, the spotlight, It was so suffocating. Familiar footsteps approach. No need to turn, I recognize those footsteps anywhere. Ryan. "Why did you let him do it? You could have walked away?" He says, voice rough with the sharpness of alcohol. He’s been drinking. Just like the night we met. I was vulnera