CHAPTER HUNDRED & NINETY
CHAPTER HUNDRED & NINETY
NOTE FROM AUTHOR
And just like that…
Ashley and Kyle’s story has come to an end.
Writing this book has been a journey. An emotional one. A messy one. A beautiful one.
To those of you who rooted for Ashley even when she was broken, who held Kyle accountable but still believed in second chances… thank you.
Thank you for reading. For crying. For screaming. For holding your breath. For falling in love with their chaos the same way I did.
These characters mean so much to me. And knowing you came along for the ride means even more.
Before you go, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Swipe through or scroll down and answer some of these questions (in the comments). Your answers help me grow as a writer and let me know what parts of this story lived in your heart.
And yes, I saved the most controversial one for last. 👀
1\. Who was your favorite character in the bookand why?
2\. Which scene made you laugh the most?
3\. Which scene made you cry, scream, or throw the book (or want to)?
4\. Be honest, did you forgive Kyle before Ashley did, or were you still mad? 👀
5\. What’s your favorite Kyle and Ashley moment?
6\. If you could insert yourself into one scene just to be nosy or helpful—which would it be?
7\. Which quote or line stuck with you the most?
8\. What would you say was Ashley’s biggest moment of growth?
9 And Kyle’s?
10\. Do you think they were truly ready for forever this time?
11\. Did Kyle redeem himself? Fully? Or is there still something you’d like to have seen him do?
12\. And the big one...
Would you ever go back to a man who cheated? Why or why not?
From my heart to yours,
Thank you. For every page you turned, for every emotion you felt, and for every second you gave to this story.
But this isn’t goodbye. Not really.
My next book is just around the corner, and I cannot wait to share it with you.
New characters, new chaos, new romance and all the swoony, messy, emotional moments you’ve come to expect.
And for those of you who read In Love With My Stepbrother—Violet and Ryan’s story—guess what?
I’ve got a little surprise just for you. A bonus chapter.
A small parting gift from me to you.
A thank you for loving them first—and for letting Ashley and Kyle be part of your world too.
So don’t go too far.
Check out the next book when it drops.
And above all, never stop believing that love—real, flawed, healing love—is worth the second chance.
With all my love, always,
Zainnyalpha
BONUS CHAPTER: VIOLET & RYAN
VIOLET
It started with the pitter-patter of feet and the thump of a bunny hitting the hardwood floor.
"Mamaaaa," Nina sang, dragging Mr. Waffles,her battered, half-chewed stuffed rabbit—into the bedroom with royal urgency. Her curls were a cloud of chaos, her pajamas mismatched, and her eyes sparkled like she’d personally invented the sun.
"It's Saturday," I groaned, face-first into my pillow.
"Exactly! We hafta wake up now. Daddy said pancakes!" I mimicked Nina.
From beside me, Ryan made a sound that was half a grunt, half a dying whale. "Daddy said no such thing. Daddy was sleep-talking. Daddy regrets everything."
I rolled over, laughing into the sheets. "You promised pancakes. It was in your vows."
"My vows did not include syrup," he mumbled, dragging himself upright like the weight of fatherhood was breaking his spine. "But fine. Fine. You get pancakes. Only because you’re hot and the kid is too cute to disappoint."
"Aww. Love you too."
Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen looked like a flour bomb had gone off. Nina had exactly three streaks of batter on her forehead. Ryan was shirtless, flipping pancakes like a man who’d been exiled from the gym for excessive dad jokes. And me? I was sitting on the counter with a cup of tea and a heart so full it almost hurt.
"You’re staring," Ryan said without looking up.
"You’re shirtless and making pancakes. What else am I supposed to do?"
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Marry me again."
"Tempting. Can we register for new towels?"
"I thought you liked the old ones."
"They smell like you. I’m conflicted."
He laughed, that rich, low sound that still made my knees weak after all these years. Nina clapped from her seat at the table like laughter was the best sound in the world. Maybe it was.
After breakfast (read: after cleaning up 80% of Nina’s pancake face art), we curled up on the couch. Nina was sprawled across both our laps, humming nonsense into her bunny while Ryan absently ran his fingers through her curls.
It was one of those lazy mornings that felt stolen from real life—slow, soft, and filled with the scent of syrup and baby shampoo.
“Oh…” I said suddenly. “I forgot to tell you. My mom called. She said to come over with Nina this weekend—she didn’t make it to her birthday party.”
Ryan raised a brow then poked Nina’s belly, making her giggle.. “She missed her first birthday and wants a redo?”
I shrugged, “She said she had the flu. She didn’t want to infect the cake or whatever.”
He laughed. “That cake could’ve fought off the flu. It had armor made of buttercream.”
“She also said she bought matching outfits for the two of them.”
He groaned dramatically. “Oh God. The floral ruffles are coming.”
I grinned. “Brace yourself.”
We both looked down at Nina, who had somehow twisted halfway around so her foot was in my face and her bunny was wedged between Ryan’s ribs.
“I swear,” I muttered, brushing a sticky curl off my cheek, “she gets more of your attention than I do.”
Ryan gave me a look. “Are you… are you jealous of your own daughter?”
I scowled. “No.”
“You sure?” he teased, adjusting so Nina didn’t kick him in the chin. “Because it sounds like you’re jealous.”
“I’m just saying,” I huffed, trying to sound dignified while wiping syrup off my pajama pants, “it’s been approximately six years since you touched me like that.”
“Six years?” He laughed, incredulous. “Violet. You literally tackled me in the laundry room last night.”
“Yeah, and then Nina walked in and interrupted us.”
He clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh. “I mean, she’s not wrong.”
“I’m not asking for much,” I went on, flopping dramatically onto the back cushion. “Just some adult affection. A whisper. A smolder. Maybe a rogue hand on the lower back, you know, like in the olden days.”
Ryan was full-on laughing now. “You’re actually mad because our daughter is cuddling me too much?”
I glared at him. “Your daughter is a tiny tyrant who monopolizes your snuggles.”
Nina blinked up at me, wide-eyed. Then she offered me Bun-Bun with a drooly grin and said, “Mama!”
I hesitated.
She shoved the bunny into my chest like it was a peace offering. “Buh-buh!” she declared, proud of herself.
Ryan cracked up. “She’s giving you the bunny.”
I squinted at the half-crusted, syrup-soaked thing. “Wow. How generous.”
“She’s sharing her most prized possession.”
Ryan wheezed. “You’ve been replaced.”
I stared at the bunny, its face crusted with syrup and cheerios. “This is a betrayal of the highest order.”
Ryan leaned over, kissed my forehead, and murmured, “I’ll make it up to you mouse. Tonight. After Bun-Bun is asleep.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You promise?”
He held up his hand solemnly. “On Bun-Bun’s crunchy little head.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“But you love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
He grinned.
I leaned against him anyway, stealing what little arm space I could before Nina rolled over and kicked me in the ribs.
Somewhere under a pile of baby limbs, bunny fluff, and half-finished cartoons.
this is what happy looks like.
Chaotic. Loud. Sticky.
But happy.
And mine.