Step aside, Uncle Pride：Your Nephew is My Next Man - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading Step aside, Uncle Pride：Your Nephew is My Next Man, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of Step aside, Uncle Pride：Your Nephew is My Next Man.
After a few days of recovery, I packed my bags and left the country with Waylon.
From the moment we stepped out of my parents' house, Waylon got super anxious. The hand holding mine was actually sweating.
He kept pulling me forward, never stopping, until we were finally seated on the plane. Only then did he completely relax.
I knew what he was worried about, but he didn't need to be.
I wasn't going back. I had zero regrets.
The plane broke through the dark clouds, and brilliant light hit Waylon's profile, highlighting every perfect angle.
We'd been childhood friends forever. I always thought we were just best friends, like family.
It wasn't until Wyatt showed up that I realized—maybe Waylon had feelings for me all along.
It's not like I felt nothing for him, but by then it was too late. I was already drowning in Wyatt's swamp.
Waylon suddenly turned to look at me.
"Way..."
That was my nickname for him—mine and mine alone.
"Is it awful that I used you as my backup plan?"
Waylon smiled, and his eyes sparkled like stars.
He reached out, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it.
"I've been waiting in the wings this whole time, ready for my moment."
"From now on, you're stuck with me. This is our story now, and I'm writing us a happy ending."
My eyes welled up as I placed my right hand over his left, our fingers intertwining.
Maybe it was selfish, but he was willing to put up with my selfishness.
Living with Waylon abroad, we didn't really act that different from before.
Except our hearts kept getting closer as time went on.
That whole thing with Wyatt felt like some random detour you take on vacation—eventually, you still come home.
A year later, Waylon proposed.
I said yes.
When we were writing out wedding invitations, that name I hadn't mentioned in a whole year suddenly had to appear.
"Ugh... I really don't want to send him one..."
Waylon's head was on my shoulder, looking totally bummed out.
Wyatt was his uncle—family protocol meant we had to invite him to the wedding.
I cupped his face in my hands and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
"Am I not giving you enough security?"
He pouted. "Just a little more."
So I kissed him again.
After some playful wrestling, we finally wrote on the wedding invitation:
Mr. Wyatt Marchand
Waylon and Sadie Marchand cordially invite you...
On our wedding day, when Waylon slipped the ring onto my finger, tears started streaming down his face. He was crying so hard he couldn't even speak.
I was the first to say "I love you"—sorry for making him wait so long, this time I wanted to take that first step.
Waylon wiped his tears. "I love you too."
Wyatt didn't show up to our wedding.
No idea why, but it didn't matter to me anymore.
Right after the ceremony, Waylon and I rushed to the airport to start our honeymoon.
We rode hot air balloons in Turkey, ate chocolate in Austria, and made out in lavender fields in Provence.
On our last night of the honeymoon, we were going at it by the window—he had me pressed against the glass while we fucked.
Fireworks were exploding outside, drowning out the vibration of the phone on the table.
It wasn't until the next day that Waylon saw the 99 missed calls on his phone.
From the moment we stepped out of my parents' house, Waylon got super anxious. The hand holding mine was actually sweating.
He kept pulling me forward, never stopping, until we were finally seated on the plane. Only then did he completely relax.
I knew what he was worried about, but he didn't need to be.
I wasn't going back. I had zero regrets.
The plane broke through the dark clouds, and brilliant light hit Waylon's profile, highlighting every perfect angle.
We'd been childhood friends forever. I always thought we were just best friends, like family.
It wasn't until Wyatt showed up that I realized—maybe Waylon had feelings for me all along.
It's not like I felt nothing for him, but by then it was too late. I was already drowning in Wyatt's swamp.
Waylon suddenly turned to look at me.
"Way..."
That was my nickname for him—mine and mine alone.
"Is it awful that I used you as my backup plan?"
Waylon smiled, and his eyes sparkled like stars.
He reached out, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it.
"I've been waiting in the wings this whole time, ready for my moment."
"From now on, you're stuck with me. This is our story now, and I'm writing us a happy ending."
My eyes welled up as I placed my right hand over his left, our fingers intertwining.
Maybe it was selfish, but he was willing to put up with my selfishness.
Living with Waylon abroad, we didn't really act that different from before.
Except our hearts kept getting closer as time went on.
That whole thing with Wyatt felt like some random detour you take on vacation—eventually, you still come home.
A year later, Waylon proposed.
I said yes.
When we were writing out wedding invitations, that name I hadn't mentioned in a whole year suddenly had to appear.
"Ugh... I really don't want to send him one..."
Waylon's head was on my shoulder, looking totally bummed out.
Wyatt was his uncle—family protocol meant we had to invite him to the wedding.
I cupped his face in my hands and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
"Am I not giving you enough security?"
He pouted. "Just a little more."
So I kissed him again.
After some playful wrestling, we finally wrote on the wedding invitation:
Mr. Wyatt Marchand
Waylon and Sadie Marchand cordially invite you...
On our wedding day, when Waylon slipped the ring onto my finger, tears started streaming down his face. He was crying so hard he couldn't even speak.
I was the first to say "I love you"—sorry for making him wait so long, this time I wanted to take that first step.
Waylon wiped his tears. "I love you too."
Wyatt didn't show up to our wedding.
No idea why, but it didn't matter to me anymore.
Right after the ceremony, Waylon and I rushed to the airport to start our honeymoon.
We rode hot air balloons in Turkey, ate chocolate in Austria, and made out in lavender fields in Provence.
On our last night of the honeymoon, we were going at it by the window—he had me pressed against the glass while we fucked.
Fireworks were exploding outside, drowning out the vibration of the phone on the table.
It wasn't until the next day that Waylon saw the 99 missed calls on his phone.
End of Step aside, Uncle Pride：Your Nephew is My Next Man Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to Step aside, Uncle Pride：Your Nephew is My Next Man book page.