One Night With My Ex's Uncle

EMILY'S POV

"Ouch!" I withdrew my hand immediately from the oven and saw my mitten had a hole in it. "This is going to sting." I remarked, looking at it in anger. Then I turned to the sink and turned on the tap.

"Did you hurt yourself, Miss?" Dahlia asked, coming into the kitchen.

"Oh, it's just a little burn." I replied, although it was obvious on my face that even as little as the burn was, it hurt badly.

Dahlia browsed through the cupboards, and in a minute, she had taken my hand and dabbed it in cool honey.

"My mum always did this. You'll heal just fine, but she never hesitated to dab honey on skin whenever it got burnt." She explained, and I watched her. It must have been nice to remember her mother. Dahlia's mother was long dead and gone, and the only family Dahlia had were her two children.

She never talked much about her children, but Dahlia had been more than a mother to me. She kept the house clean, cooked, and never hesitated to listen to me whenever I needed it.

Although she never collected anything from me besides her monthly pay, instead, being a fashion designer, I made her lots of beautiful aprons, napkins, and mittens, which she loved dearly.

"You were baking potatoes?" She asked, returning the honey.

"Yes, I was. It's John's favorite." I replied, with a blush spreading over my face.

I checked the time on my phone, and my smile grew wider as I stared at a photo of him smiling brightly. It was my wallpaper, and one I was never going to change.

"I baked chicken thighs, too. Want to have a taste?" I asked Dahlia, as she moved around the kitchen, fixing things I had put out of place.

"Don't you bother. I'm sure it'll taste great." She replied as she began to wash the dishes.

"If only omegas like me could somehow manage to get fast cooking skills, then we'd be content." I mentioned it out of the blue, and she chuckled.

"John has you thinking of the most absurd things every time, Emily." She remarked, and I seized the opportunity to talk about John. I never got tired of talking about him, no matter how I tried.

"You know, when you just love someone all your life. I mean, I was meant to love John since I was born. He's sweet, charming, handsome, a perfect gentleman, listens when I need to, and also he's romantic. Oh, Dahlia, sometimes he stares at me and says he can't get enough of my beauty!" I rattled on and on, going to stand next to Dahlia, who laughed.

"He says that?"

"He notices everything about me. If I wear a new hairpin, earring, or even a different lipstick color, he knows! And he always makes sure to compliment me." I said, then leaned against the counter, tangling my fingers together in front of my belly, as I gazed into space.

"I can't wait for us to be finally married. Having kids with John would feel... I don't know. We'd shower them with love. Oh, Dahlia, I can't wait to get married!" I squealed and began to dance without music.

"Your potatoes are getting cold." She said, with a smile, and I rushed to them, taking out my bento box to spoon everything I had made onto it.

"We have almost everything ready, although some last-minute decisions are still being made. All with my consent, of course. The dress is perfect since I designed it myself, so is John's suit, and..." I continued to ramble on and on about my wedding, which was creeping up on me faster than I imagined.

Although it wasn't as fast as I wanted it to be.

After packing up the food into my bento box, I left the house, telling Dahlia to have as much fun as she wanted since I wasn't going to be back for the night.

I stepped out, and the cool night air ruffled dark blonde strands of hair across my face. My fingers brushed them aside, and I began my brisk walk towards the roadside, underneath the dark blue sky strewn with stars.

"Taxi!" I called, flagging down a cab.

I got in and called out my destination.

In a matter of days, when John and I were married, we would be moved to the large family house.

Not that a lot of people lived there anyway. It was just a lot of buildings built closely, and a family held each building.

John and I were going to have one, and I couldn't wait.

We had a little bit of a situation on the road, as the traffic threatened to make my meal warm.

John liked his baked potatoes very hot, and I didn't want anything less than hot.

Thankfully, the traffic cleared out after a while, and we began to move again. Shortly, I received a call from the interior decorator, who was decorating the hall along with her crew.

"Hello."

"Hello, Emily. Do you want the pink ribbons or the yellow ones?"

"Both! I want it very colorful. The roses should all be white, and, uh... I want the walls to all have screens-large screens where lovely moments of me and John will be displayed. I'll send more photos in, okay? And, hmm... I'd like heart-shaped balloons hanging from the ceiling; you should know how to arrange them right. I want to look up and watch them spell me and John's name." I explained from the picture of the wedding hall I had imagined and stuck in my head.

"Okay. I'll do just that."

"Will you recall all this?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm recording the call, so I won't miss the important details." She replied.

"Alright. That's great." I said, and ended the call.

I got to John's house, got down, and paid the taxi driver.

He zoomed off, and I walked towards John's front porch. He was still awake. All the lights were still on. I pressed in the combination for the door lock and walked in.

I walked briskly to his dining table and took out my bento box.

"Potatoes, thighs, fruits, veggies..." I listed out the dishes I prepared as I arranged them on the table. I went to his kitchen to check if he'd eaten, but all the dishes were clean. Well, it wasn't like he wouldn't eat them even though he had eaten dinner.

John ate lightly and did whatever he could to please me. So, he would definitely eat on a full stomach if I prepared it.

I looked at the set table and smiled to myself, correcting a few things. I'd call out to him, and the aroma would hit him before the heavenly sight.

My hands found my phone in my pocket, and I decided to phone him instead of calling out to him.

I'd phone him and tell him to check his living room for my purse. I'd claim I forgot it, then he'd see the beauty in front of him.

I was about to click on his number when I changed my mind.

"Just surprise him." I said, and bounded up his staircase.

I located his room easily, which was the last one, and pushed it open as slowly as I could. If possible, I wanted to give him the greatest scare of his life.

"Ahh." I heard and stopped. The voice was soft and sounded nothing like a sound John could make. It was way too feminine.

Was he watching a movie? No, it couldn't be. I shrugged off the thought and decided to step in.

I pushed the door gently, walked in with light steps, and raised my head with a bright smile, but it went running down as fast as lightning.

John was on the bed, with a woman atop him.

EMILY'S POV.

My heart went into a slow beat, and it seemed like everything had stopped... Maybe I was the only one who stopped.

John, who smiled like the sun...

John, who saw only me...

John, who couldn't wait for us to get married.

John, who watched old movies and made cliché statements because I knew I loved them.

John, who swore to give his everything to me...

John, who was on the bed, groaning and cloaked in the shiny fabric of perspiration, before me.

The girl's hair shielded her face as she continued to let out soft cries, and it was only when I staggered backwards that they stopped.

John pushed her off him frantically, and she rolled off the bed to the floor, grabbing the sheets and covering herself with them.

My heart seemed like it was about to explode with each beat.

I tried taking in deep breaths, but I couldn't deny the hot tears that wanted to come running down.

"Emily." He called, with a cracked voice, and I looked at their clothes on the floor, strewn in different places.

It had been a night of passion for him, while I had been thinking only about him, as I used my evening to prepare his favorite meal.

"I... I hate you." I whispered, although my voice broke.

I turned around and ran out of the room. My body buzzed with electricity, filled with shock from what I had seen.

John... John... Was it a dream? My John? My John, who was mine alone?

"Emily, Emily... Emily, I'm sorry. Wait, please." He called after me, running without clothes on.

I ran, grabbed my bag, and dashed out the door. There was no way he'd follow me while he was still naked, and before he got clothes, I'd be long gone.

I ran out onto the streets, and when I saw a taxi, I flagged it down hurriedly.

In the movies, I had always gotten irritated at girls who ran when they saw their partners cheating. I'd always shouted at them to tear the partner's hair apart and scream at them, but right there, watching John, it felt like the world had ended.

Everywhere had felt pressed in and suffocating. I had wanted to leave the place so I could gather my thoughts.

Finally, for once, I understood the women in movies, who always ran. I couldn't face that horrible sight without breaking down.

"Ma'am. Where would you like to go?" The driver asked, as I got in.

"Anywhere. Just keep driving on the streets. I'll... I'll pay you whatever you want." I said, and my tears came crashing on my laps. My tears ran as fast as a stream, as it seemed like needles pricked my heart.

How could John, who I had loved the most in the world, do that to me? Hadn't he loved me? All his promises... Since when had he been sleeping with another woman?

Before the preparations for our marriage? After? Where had it all gone wrong? Where!? The driver saw my tears and did as I asked, without saying a word.

I wiped my tears furiously, but more of them continued to crash down, filling my eyes quickly and leaving just as fast.

My throat closed up, and it took crying out loud to open it. It was embarrassing, and I didn't want to cry in the taxi, but I had invested too much of myself in John. It was just too hard to think of the innocent love I had given to him freely, being laughed at by the lady riding him.

Since when had he been cheating on me? Ever since he met me? After we made love for the first time? When we got engaged? Recently? Tonight?

I sobbed loudly and hard and choked on my own tears. A headache took over my forehead, and my face turned red, but I didn't stop. With all I did, with how I had loved him, he had repaid me with betrayal.

After being driven around for close to two hours, I had stopped crying. Instead, I leaned against the car door, with the breeze drying my tears and pushing back my hair.

Those hands... those hands that had caressed my face had held her atop him. Those eyes that gazed at me lovingly had gazed at her lustfully.

"Sir," I called.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'd like to get off here." I said, taking out everything I had in my wallet. It was a lot for a driver to make in a day, not to talk of two hours, but I was grateful for the ride and the fact that he let me cry without staring at me or trying to speak.

I got out of the car and handed the money to him.

"Here, sir."

"No, no... you can..."

"It's fine." I said, taking his hand and pressing the money into it. "Thank you, sir." I added and turned away, walking slowly to wherever I could get to. The streets were unfamiliar, and I knew I was far away from home, but I didn't care.

The thoughts still roamed in my head, and I longed to just thrust my hand into it and pull them out, but of course, I didn't.

I stopped and sighed, then my eyes fell on a bar, and I began to walk towards it immediately. It was exactly what I needed. After all, when people get drunk, they can't think of, or feel their pain anymore.

I got in and met the place almost empty, except for a lone figure sitting far away from the door.

The bartender looked at me, and a bright smile lit his face.

"Welcome." He greeted, and I walked towards the counter and took a seat there. "I thought we were done with customers already. Do you need a room for the night, too? We offer hotel services." He said, and I looked out the door. I hadn't noticed.

"Um..."

"What would you like to drink?"

"Any alcoholic drink will do."

"Okay... You seem a little down, but I'd advise you not to drink too much." He said cheerfully.

"If you went through what I did, you wouldn't say that." I said to him, and he smiled as he mixed drinks.

"What happened? There's no better thing than baring out your thoughts to a complete stranger, who doesn't know you or the people around you." He pointed out, while making me a cocktail.

"You're right. Even if I curse at him, you wouldn't be able to tell him, and you'll probably never see me again, so even if you think I'm pathetic, you wouldn't think too much about it."

"Of course, although I doubt you'd be pathetic. So tell me, is it a man?" He asked, sliding my cocktail to me gently.

"You seem like you know already. Of course, it's a man. A... A... jeez, it's hard to curse at him. I can't even do it." I said, and bit my lip.

"He cheated?" The bartender asked, and I looked up at him with eyes that definitely resembled a puppy's. "You don't have to say it." He added.

It was exactly what I was grateful for-that I didn't have to say it out loud that John cheated.

I opened my mouth to say something, but instead, I took the glass and downed it all.

He offered more, and I drank it, trying to get drunk and forget about it all quickly.

"He... honestly, I never thought..." I took the bottle from him and drank directly, as my tears threatened to cloud my vision once more.

"Here." He said, handing me another glass, and I drank it too. My face felt hot. Maybe it was my tears or the drinks; I didn't know.

"That should be enough." He said, leaving his position behind the counter to come to me, but I wanted to keep drinking; I didn't feel drunk.

"No! I want to kill him. I want to kill John." I sobbed and sniffed.

"You're drunk. You should sleep." He said, pushing me to my feet.

"Is this what drunk feels like? It's not enough." I said, staggering, as I tried to stand on my own.

"You can't... "He said, moving me further to the staircase, which seemed dark in the blue light.

"I..." I tried to stand again, but he came behind me and wrapped his arms around me... he was too close, too... "You're..." I was saying, but he didn't let me go; instead, his hands moved, and my drunken eyes snapped open.

He had placed his hands directly on my chest.

EMILY'S POV.

I grabbed his hands and pulled them off, throwing them away from me, and turned to him.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?" I asked, looking at him with surprise, but it felt like a drum hit my head. I staggered, and he caught me again.

"What am I doing?" He asked, and I tried to pry my hands out of his, but he held on to my wrist firmly.

"You know what you're doing. How could you approach me for the sake of doing this? You're a jerk! A traitor!" I accused him, with my words slurring.

"A traitor?"

"I thought we were comrades!" I shouted in an uneven tone and swayed on my feet once more, but he caught me by the waist.

"Comrades? You're drunk. I'm only trying to get you to your room." He said, and in pretense of brushing my hair backwards, he brushed his palm over my breasts once more, and I pushed him away.

"I asked what you think you're doing!" I shouted, but my eyes couldn't even open properly anymore.

"I'm getting you to your room."

"All men are the same. You probably have a girlfriend somewhere, don't you? You conniving cheat."

He pulled me to him once more, and I wanted to pull away but couldn't. It suddenly seemed like that move had triggered lots of things in me.

I was suddenly aware of the toughness of his body and the way my gentle hands lay on the strong muscles on his arms.

Why was I feeling that way? He smirked, and I wanted to run my lips over his. What was that feeling? Why was I feeling loose and ready to sleep with the bartender?

I tried desperately to pull away, as I couldn't understand myself, but he held me closer.

"Don't you think you want to share a room with me?" He asked, in a low, husky voice, and panic mingled with desire in me. I wanted to thread my fingers in his hair, press my lips to his, and wrap my legs around him, but at the same time, I knew it was wrong. I was getting married in a few days to an Alpha...wait.

Was I still getting married? I didn't think so.

But even though I wasn't getting married, I could never do such a thing as sleeping with a random man.

"Let go of me." I said, angrily, but he didn't let go.

"In minutes, you'll be the one unable to let go of me." He said softly, and I gasped.

"Did you put something in my drink?" I asked, and the smile on his face said it all, but his words were the opposite.

"Why would I? Are you suggesting I put something in the drinks of all my customers? I simply gave you what you wanted."

"You! You idiot! How could you spike my drink!?" I shouted, pushing against him, but he simply gave a little laugh.

"I didn't. Why would I spike your drink? Do I look like some horny idiot to you? You're the horny one here." He said, and I almost scratched his face, trying to break free from him.

He tried to hold me to himself but was unsuccessful, and then we heard the harsh scraping of a chair, and he left me abruptly. I rubbed my wrists angrily, leaning against a wall, and just then, someone showed up. It was another man.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and looked like if he wanted, he could drag the bartender and throw him outside the bar.

"What's the fuss all about?" He asked, in a deep voice, and the bartender seemed like his plans were ruined.

"I came to have a drink, but this man here... this man here tried to take advantage of me. He... he spiked my drink with something! Ask him. He was touching me inappropriately and refused to leave me. I..."

"Wow! How can you spew such lies comfortably? You were obviously forcing yourself on me just now." He lied, and my eyes widened.

"Ha! Why are you this despicable? You touched my chest and... and said all manner of nasty things!" I shouted, with my voice swaying a bit.

Already, everything seemed to split in two, and I wanted to wrap my arms around something, to kiss someone, and John's image kept on replaying in my mind.

"She's drunk. She can't even open her eyes properly." The bartender said, and I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist.

"Give me the keys." The deep voice said.

"You'll... You'll take her to her room? I can... I can do that. I'll..."

"The keys." He repeated, and I heard a jangling sound. The next moment, I was swept off my feet.

"He... he touched me. He touched me and put something in my drink, so I'll sleep with him. Now I'm thinking of my fiancé again!" I shouted dramatically, with my tone rising and crashing recklessly.

"Jerks like him, you have to punish them! You have to take them to court, and... wait, where are you taking me to? A room?" I continued babbling and talking about different things.

The man didn't even reply. He inserted the keys into a door and carried me inside.

My feet found the floor, and he tried to leave, but I held on to his arm.

"Isn't it absurd? He just came out of nowhere and began to..." I continued drunkenly.

"Ma'am, you should forget about the bartender and have some rest. Is there anything you forgot downstairs?" He asked, but my hands found his chest, feeling his muscles beneath the slim fabric of his chest. He tried to take my hand off, and I looked into his eyes.

"Worst day ever. Why do I... feel this way?" I asked, and he placed his hands around my shoulders, trying to push me away, but by then, all morality had been cleared from my head.

Whatever the bartender had spiked my drink with was working. I needed someone badly, and he was the right person. Him and no one else.

He opened his mouth to speak once more, but I placed a finger on his lips, and with my other hand, began to unbutton my shirt. His eyes widened, and he tried to leave; I dragged him back, stood on tiptoes, and pressed my lips to his, and wrapped my legs around his waist, with my arms around his neck, just like I had wanted to do with the bartender.

He tried to push me away, but I was intent on kissing him with all I had. All the pain of the day, and the loss, I transferred it onto the kiss and kissed him like I didn't have anything else to do other than to kiss a man.

He staggered backwards, as he tried to support my weight. I looked into his eyes, and saw my desire reflected in his. I had managed to arouse my desire in him, but he was still baffled. Of course, it was wrong to feel things for a woman you met minutes ago.

It was even more wrong to sleep with her.

"Did he really spike your drink? We can go down and report him to the station. It's not too late to go, and..."

I flashed a beautiful smile at him, interrupting his words; he stared at me with an expression that seemed to suggest he had seen something he hadn't seen before. I kept the smile up, telling him he had no worries without words, and when I kissed him again-at first he was unresponsive-but eventually, he returned it, slowly.

If I were to go crazy, then I'd rather be with the unknown stranger than with the bartender who had thought he could outsmart and take advantage of me.

We found our way back to the bed, and clothes flew to the ground in different directions; his kisses were everywhere on my skin.

At that moment, I was willing to forget everything and everyone. I only wanted to focus on the man before me.

After all, we were complete strangers, with nothing to do with each other.