บททั้งหมดของ You’re supposed to be my Brother Inlaw: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Felicia’s POV“Two days!” Anna shrieks, bursting into my room at seven in the morning with two cups of coffee and enough energy to power a small city. “Two days until we’re officially done with grad school and can stop eating ramen for dinner!”I groan and pull the pillow over my head. “It’s seven AM on a Saturday, Anna. This enthusiasm is criminal.”“Get up, get up, get up!” She yanks the pillow away and shoves a coffee cup into my hands. “We have so much to do. Dresses to buy, nails to get done, celebration brunch to eat—”“We could also sleep.”“Sleep is for people who aren’t about to get their degrees.” She’s already pulling clothes from my closet, tossing them on the bed. “Come on. I made a whole itinerary. We’re going to make this day perfect.”Despite myself, I smile. This is exactly what I needed—Anna’s relentless optimism, her refusal to let me wallow. It’s been two weeks since that night at the ice rink with Jake, two weeks since I blocked Ian’s number, two weeks since I’ve

Felicia’s POVI stare at the unsent message for the tenth time this morning, my thumb hovering over the send button. The words have been rewritten so many times I’ve lost count, but they still feel inadequate.“Ian, I need you to stop. No more texts from new numbers. No more showing up at the gallery. No more asking mutual friends about me. I’ve moved on, and you need to do the same. Please respect my decision and let me heal. This is goodbye.”Three weeks ago, he started. Messages from numbers I don’t recognize, always the same desperate tone. “We need to talk. I made a mistake. Eva and I are over. Please, just hear me out.”I blocked each number, but they kept coming. Then he showed up at the gallery last Tuesday, waiting outside when my shift ended. Jake had been there to pick me up, and the look on Ian’s face when he saw us together—hurt and rage and something that looked like ownership made my skin crawl.“Just send it,” Anna’s voice comes through my phone speaker. She’s on FaceT

Felicia’s POVSunday morning arrives too quickly, bringing with it the harsh reality that we have to leave paradise and return to real life. I wake up wrapped in Jake’s arms, his steady breathing telling me he’s still asleep. The curtains are open, letting in the early morning light that paints everything in soft gold.I don’t want to move. Don’t want this weekend to end.“I can feel you thinking,” Jake mumbles against my hair, his arms tightening around me. “Stop it.”“We have to check out by eleven.”“That’s two hours away. We have time.” He nuzzles into my neck. “Let’s just stay here. We can live in this room. I’ll get a job as a beach volleyball instructor. You can sell art to tourists.”“Very practical.”“I’m a practical guy.” His hand slides up my side. “We’d be happy. Broke and sandy, but happy.”I turn in his arms to face him. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, there’s a pillow crease on his cheek, and he’s never looked more perfect.“I don’t want to go back,” I admit quie

Ian’s POVThe vodka burns going down, but I pour another glass anyway. It’s my third. Or fourth. I’ve lost count somewhere between opening the bottle and pulling up Felicia’s Facebook profile for the hundredth time today.She blocked me on everything—phone, Instagram, even LinkedIn for fuck’s sake. But she forgot about Facebook. Or maybe she didn’t think I’d stoop to checking her there like some obsessed ex.Joke’s on her. I absolutely would.The photo is still there, mocking me from the screen of my laptop. Except she’s not my Felicia anymore. She made that abundantly clear.I take another drink, the vodka making everything blur slightly at the edges. The house is too quiet. Eva moved out a week ago—took her stuff in the afternoon while I was at the studio, left the divorce papers on the kitchen counter like a fucking Dear John letter.Irreconcilable differences, the papers said. Irretrievable breakdown of the marriage.No mention of her fucking my father. No mention of the affair th

Jake’s POV I’m five minutes away from Felicia’s apartment when I see him. A man stumbling out of her building, clearly drunk. I know that car. I’ve seen it before. It’s Ian’s car. Her brother-in-law. I suspected something could be going on between them while we were still in school, were they still together? My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I watch him pull away. He came from her building. From her apartment. At 8 PM on a Wednesday night, looking drunk. My mind races through possibilities. Maybe it was innocent. Maybe he was visiting Anna, not Felicia. Maybe there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. I should go up. Should knock on her door and ask what happened. Communication, right? That’s what healthy relationships do. Instead, I put my car in drive and head home. I don’t want to know. Don’t want to hear whatever explanation she’ll give. Don’t want to see the guilt or defensiveness or whatever emotion will be written across her face. Because if Ian was in h