Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed novel Chapter 820

“My feelings are honest and out in the open—there’s nothing shameful about them. Why shouldn’t I admit it?” Owen Reynolds’s gaze was clear and unwavering, his words simple and direct.

Corley stared at him, hands clenched tight. For the first time, he felt the sting of defeat.

“Does Roseanne know?” he asked quietly.

Owen didn’t bother to hide anything. “I tried to tell her. Tested the waters, you could say. She told me she’s not interested in relationships right now—her studies come first.”

Corley let out a short laugh. “So she turned you down?”

“Not exactly.” Owen caught sight of the smirk on Corley’s lips but remained calm. “I never actually confessed. Not officially.”

Corley’s smile grew broader, almost mocking.

Owen frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“You. You’re hilarious.”

“Is that so?” Owen’s tone was cool and matter-of-fact. “Just because I don’t have a chance now doesn’t mean I won’t later. You, on the other hand—now or in the future—won’t ever have a chance again.”

So, really, who’s the joke on?

Corley froze, the words hitting home.

“Dinner’s ready!” Roseanne called as she returned, arms loaded with plates and silverware.

The two men fell instantly silent, a rare moment of unspoken agreement passing between them.

Roseanne’s grandmother had cooked enough for everyone; even with Owen at the table, there was more than enough to go around.

As they settled in, Roseanne smiled and gestured toward the dishes. “Professor, please, help yourself! My grandma made everything from scratch. You have to try the roast pork with honey glaze, and these sweet-and-sour ribs…”

“Oh, and the meatballs are delicious—they’re stuffed with mushrooms and minced meat!”

Owen listened as she introduced each dish, taking a bit of everything she mentioned. He sampled every offering with such enthusiasm, he could’ve been crowned the “king of good manners.”

When the cleanup was done, Roseanne brewed two cups of lemon tea. She carried them out, meaning to hand one to Owen, but found the living area empty.

She set the cups down and walked toward the lab.

Sure enough, after just a few steps, she saw him standing at the workbench, flipping through the experiment data she’d organized that morning.

“Professor?” Roseanne called softly.

Owen glanced over his shoulder, holding up the printouts with a smile. “Your accuracy rate is impressive.”

Roseanne’s lips curled upward. “So, does that mean we can skip the recheck this time?”

“In theory, no. But in practice, considering the time constraints, it’s not impossible.”

After all, he’d just reviewed everything himself and found no issues.

“Still not a good idea,” Roseanne said, shaking her head with a smile. “Even with your guarantee—and I’m sure there’s a 99% chance everything’s fine—I should set a good example and stick to proper procedure.”