Contract Marriage: I’ve Always Loved You

I wake up the next morning with the pain in my back because of sleeping in an uncomfortable position last night. It was harder than I thought to sleep without Grace by my side.

I sit up on the sofa, stretching my body, and then lock my gaze on Grace’s sleeping form.

As our separation time is coming closer, something is breaking inside me. No matter how much I dislike her behaviour, I still have developed feelings for her in these months.

However, I know it’s good for both of us to get separated because we’re not each other’s type. Therefore, for the remaining one week of our contract marriage, I’ll try to maintain my distance from her.

Grace’s P. O. V.

I wake up, rubbing my eyes and find the sofa empty. I think Steve has already left for the office.

Sleeping alone on the bed last night was indeed a struggle. Steve said right, we’ve grown accustomed to each other, and it’s best for us to stay away from each other from now onwards.

Then my attention diverts as my phone rings. It’s a call from Elsa.

I talk to her and quickly get ready to meet her. After a long time, she came to meet me from London.

I reach the cosy cafe, where she is already waiting for me, seated at the corner.

As I rush towards her, she rises from the chair and pulls me into a hug.

“So how’s your contract married life going?” She enquires as we settle down.

“It’s fine. But the good thing is that our contract will end next week, and I’ll be free.” As I tell her, I feel a sharp pain in my heart, which I ignore.

“You were the only one who put yourself in this, Grace.”

I explain to her, “You know I did this for my father. He wanted me to get married as soon as possible. I hope after my divorce with Steve, he will let me live in peace. You tell, how’s your life going at Landon?”

“Nothing much, just busy with family business there. I miss our old days.”

As we continue talking, I can’t help but talk about Steve. “Oh, God! Steve gives me a headache. Whenever he starts his lectures, I feel like banging either my head or his against the wall.”

Elsa chuckles. “But you’re constantly talking about him, Grace. Perhaps you’ve developed a liking for him.” She winks at me.

“I’ve been living with him for almost three months, Elsa. It’s obvious he’ll be a significant part of my conversations. Don’t read too much into it.” I give her a slight slap on the head.

***

After three days,

It has been three days since I last saw Steve. He leaves for the office early in the morning and returns late at night. I don’t know why, but there’s an inexplicable yearning to catch a glimpse of him. Last night, I stayed awake until late, hoping for his arrival, but he didn’t show up.

In the evening, I’m spending time with Steve’s father in the hall. A strong bond has developed between us.

“Are you alright, Dad?” I ask, concerned, as he shifts uncomfortably.

“My back has been hurting since morning.” As he tells me, I become worried about him.

“Why didn’t you tell me before? Let me give you a massage. You’ll feel much better.” I stand up behind him.

“No, you don’t have to,” he denies, and I frown at him.

“Why not? I’ll give you a massage and make you feel better.”

As my hands gently work on his tense shoulders, he lets out a sigh of relief. The atmosphere in the room becomes more relaxed, and we start chatting about random things. It feels surprisingly comforting to share these moments with him.

He turns to me with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Grace. You have a magical touch; my back feels much better now.”

I just pass him a smile.

As I continue to massage his back, engrossed in our conversation, the door creaks open, and to my astonishment, Steve walks in. I freeze for a moment after seeing him after three long days. I feel something in my heart.

“Steve, you’re back early.” I stammer, withdrawing my hands from his father’s shoulders.

“I called him.” As Dad interjects, I look at him, and he continues, looking at Steve, “Steve, you need to spend more time with your wife. Take her out for dinner tonight. It’s been so many days and I see you’re spending most of the time in the office.”

Steve glances at me before answering him, “Sure, Dad. I’ll take her out.”

He goes inside.

“Now you go get ready.” As Dad says, I also leave after nodding my head.

***

Steve’s P. O. V.

It’s been three days since we interacted. I did everything in my power to keep my distance, leaving for the office early and coming home late, all in an effort to avoid any chance encounter. But if I’m being completely honest, it was incredibly difficult for me to resist stealing a glance at her while she peacefully slept.

I know I have to maintain control over my emotions. It’s crucial for me to stay composed and not let her affect me. I can’t allow myself to be swayed by her presence.

Wherever I become weak, I remind myself that after a few days, our contract will end, and we’ll part ways, so making a habit of living without each other is the best.

However, today Dad asked me to go for dinner with her.

Also, I don’t like the way Grace is getting close to him. He’ll be so hurt when she leaves.

I step out of the bathroom and find her getting ready for dinner, standing in front of the mirror.

“Grace, stay away from Dad.” I approach her, locking my gaze with her through the mirror.

She turns towards me. “I was just giving him a massage, Steve. His back was-”

“Now what’s the need to show your fake concerns, Grace? We’re going to get divorced in a few days.”

“Steve, I’m not showing fake-”

Without letting her complete the sentence, I ask, “Or do you want to put all the blame on me for our separation?”

“Steve, I was really concerned for him.” As she justifies herself, I roll my eyes.

“Grace, I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t even want you to trust me, Steve. And I don’t give a damn what you think about me.”

I know I have developed feelings for her, but these fights are the reason I want us to get separated.

***

As we settle inside the car, I share my plan. “We won’t be dining together. After dropping you off, I’ll go somewhere else. So, tell me where you want to go.”

“Drop me wherever you want.” She folds her arms across her chest and answers, looking outside in anger.

“Grace, stop behaving like a typical angry wife. I won’t apologise to you because I spoke the truth inside.” Her angry eyes swiftly turn towards me as she listens to my words.

“Just drop me at any nightclub.” She finally answers before redirecting her angry gaze outside the window.

I drive in silence. The city lights flicker outside the car window as we head towards the nightclub.

As we arrive, I pull over and Grace unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the door without a word.

“Enjoy your night,” I utter in a curt tone, frustrated with myself because I’m developing feelings for her.

She steps out, giving me a disdainful glance before shutting the door. I watch her disappear into the lights of the nightlife.

I drive away, a mix of emotions swirling within me. The nearing end of our contract marriage brings relief, but also an unexpected ache that I can’t quite comprehend.