Sorry My Step-Uncle, I'm Not Your Backup Plan novel Chapter 30

The car service dropped Drake off at 3 AM, barely conscious as he stumbled to bed fully dressed.

He woke to his stomach in knots.

"Gabriella," he mumbled through the hangover haze, "grab my meds?"

The silence hit him like a wall.

"Gabriella? Gabriella—"

Reality crashed in as his eyes snapped open.

Right. She'd moved out.

The emptiness in his chest felt worse than his stomach.

After searching every cabinet for medicine and finding nothing, he finally caved and called Rosa, his housekeeper.

She answered, groggy but professional.

"The meds, where are they?"

Looking at her phone—4 AM—Rosa counted to ten.

These trust fund kids would be the death of her.

"First-aid kit, Miss Rodriguez' room, top drawer," she managed evenly.

He found the kit but faced a new problem: a pharmacy's worth of medications stared back at him.

Gabriella had always known exactly which ones he needed.

He scanned labels, swallowed something that seemed right, and hoped for the best.

The pills knocked him out until past noon.

"Rosa," he called when he woke. "Can you make that stomach remedy?"

She paused. "Miss Rodriguez' special recipe?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, but I can't."

His face darkened. "Why not?"

"It needs overnight prep—special herbs, specific ingredients. Plus all the fresh components. Can't start it now."

"Besides," she added carefully, "I know what goes in it, but not how she actually made it."

His jaw ticked. "Regular soup then?"

"That I can handle."

He leaned back, rubbing his temples, when a knock made him straighten.

Had she come back?

"Come in."

Sienna appeared in the doorway.

Asher played his hand, grinning from ear to ear. "Rather lovely, isn't it? A gift from Gabby."

"My word, the privileges of being engaged," Sebastian teased. "One does envy you, old chap."

James's expression turned thoughtful. "Though I must say—bit curious about the Rodriguez connection. Not quite the match one might have expected, what?"

Though they all moved in the same elevated circles, the old hierarchies remained firmly in place. The Blackwoods stood at the pinnacle of British society, their influence in ParGabbyment stretching back generations. Asher, as heir to the family name, would typically have been expected to marry into another family of similar standing.

Asher's smile took on a softer quality. "Not an arranged match, as it happens."

"Good Lord," Sebastian was genuinely shocked. "What are you saying?"

"Three years ago, I approached Randolph myself," Asher explained. "The moment Gabby finished at university, I paid him a visit."

"Told him he could name any terms he liked. I'd agree to anything, provided I could marry Gabby." His eyes brightened at the memory. "After all this time, it's finally coming together."

"You mean to say you've been carrying a torch for her all these years?" Sebastian let out a low whistle. "Frightfully secretive of you, old boy. Known you since our Eton days and never had the faintest idea."

James chuckled warmly. "We'd all rather assumed you were married to your parGabbymentary duties. Turns out you were simply pining away in silence."

"When did all this start then?" Sebastian pressed, clearly intrigued by this revelation. "Must have been ages ago."

Asher studied his cards with exaggerated attention, a slight smile playing at his lips.

"A gentleman doesn't discuss such matters."

"Playing it close to the chest, are we?" Sebastian's smile turned knowing. "Though I seem to recall she rather dramatically fled the country to avoid marriage altogether. Perhaps this gift is mere politeness. Wouldn't get too carried away just yet."

James glanced up with calculated casualness. "On that note—I heard something rather interesting. Did you know she's been rather involved with someone in New York?"