All Chapters of FALLING FOR MY FIANĆE’S SON : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

NOAHI reached for her hand and laced our fingers together, leading her to my room. Inside my room, I shut the door gently behind us as she entered first, my gaze still staring at her as I did. She stood near the foot of the bed, her eyes on me. I walked toward her slowly, letting my fingers trail over her gown before I slipped it off her shoulders and onto the floor with barely a sound. She wasn’t wearing a bra which made her look more beautiful. I lifted my hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.“Get in,” I whispered. She sat on the bed before adjusting further in, her eyes never leaving mine. I just stood there for a second, looking at her half naked body laid out on my sheets, waiting for me. I’d imagined this a thousand times, but reality had nothing on the fantasy.When I got naked, she stared at me, letting her eyes roam across my body, but quickly looked away. It’s as much as a nervous look. I wanted to make her look at it, touch it, show her what she’s doing to

It’s been three days, and we just made love again. We’ve been doing it without misses—sometimes even four times a day. I’m still a bit sore, but it’s all been good. The wave of pleasure mixed with the soreness only aroused me more. I’d been with Noah all weekend, and we’d only bonded deeper—exploring each other in ways that never felt tiring. Maybe this could work. Maybe we really were fated to be—just the wrong timing before, and now, everything seemed to be going fine. Life felt perfect. I’d already told him everything about the deal arrangement with my dad and Richard—about our university situation—which he understood easily. He was so easy to talk to—so sweet and caring. We lay there in silence, my body nestled in his, while he rubbed my arm gently. He felt like home, and I certainly didn’t want to leave—but then everything began to seep in, and I remembered that Richard would be arriving this evening. I sighed, finally getting up and reaching for my bra, slipping it

4th of July The warm afternoon breeze brushed against my skin as I stood out in the garden, taking in all the decorations and the beauty of it all.Today was the Fourth of July, and we were preparing for lunch—a tradition we’d upheld for the past three years.Richard had planned a private lunch for the two of us beforehand… but so had Noah.And for the sake of keeping up appearances, I had to cancel Noah’s.I knew he’d be upset about it, but I hoped he’d understand.I hated missing out on moments with him—it always felt like I was missing a piece of myself.With him, I was whole.I wished things were better between him and Richard.If they were, we’d be able to see each other more often—freely, without hiding or guilt.But they weren’t. And Richard was hardly ever around.Whenever I tried to bring it up, Richard would brush it off, like none of it mattered.How could someone care so little about his own son?He claimed I was helping Noah become a better person.Maybe I was.Maybe, if

It’s Friday, and our flight to Italy takes off this evening. I’ll be leaving with Richard. But this… this was harder than I thought it would be. I really believed I could handle the breakup—that I could walk away from Noah without falling apart. But I was wrong. He was all I could think about… even when I didn’t want to. It was for the best though, right? I loved him—but he had this way of making me feel small. Like I was never enough. How do you claim to love someone and still find ways to break them down every chance you get? He hadn’t called me since. And I was tempted to go see him. But I didn’t. Because I knew what he’d say. That I only came back for sex. Why did he always go there? Was that really what he thought of me? That all I ever wanted from him was his body? My fingers hovered over his name on my call screen. Should I call him? Why couldn’t he call me for once? Maybe he’d moved on. Maybe he was already with someone else. After all, I was t

We landed in Milan about an hour ago. When I picked up my phone, I noticed 21 missed calls from Noah. I couldn’t help but smile—barely a few hours apart and he already couldn’t go a day without me. Still, 21 calls felt intense.We settled into the house, and I couldn’t ignore how restless Richard seemed. He kept checking his phone repeatedly, pacing a little more than usual.“Is everything okay?” He sighed. “A close family friend is terminally ill. It’s been weighing on me.”Before he could say more, the Wi-Fi finally connected. That’s when Noah’s texts flooded in:“Have you left?”“Have you arrived?”“Your phone is off.”“Please call me back.”I immediately tried to call him, but it didn’t go through. Anxiety twisted inside me. It had to be serious for him to try reaching me this many times.“Hey, who’s the person that’s ill?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.“Oh, Dianne,” Richard said gently, “I don't want to bother you with something so heavy. I don't want to cloud our tri