Monday arrived faster than I expected. The weekend's unexpected encounter at the coffee shop left me restless. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still feel Ethan Rivera near me, the subtle warmth of his presence, his faint smile that made my heart skip.
Back at the apartment, I was unpacking groceries when I heard the door click. He was home early—earlier than usual. My stomach sank.
"Lara," he greeted calmly, shedding his coat and tie. "I thought I'd get home before the rush of emails and calls."
"Uh… hi," I said nervously, holding a bag of vegetables like it was a shield.
He placed his briefcase down and glanced around. "Everything in order?" His eyes lingered on the apartment, and I realized he was noticing my space—my little world.
"Yeah… everything's fine," I muttered, placing the groceries on the counter. My hands trembled slightly.
For a few minutes, we worked in silence—me chopping vegetables, him scrolling through emails on his phone. But the quiet felt… heavy. Charged.
Then, he spoke softly. "Lara… can we talk?"
I froze, the knife hovering mid-air. "Uh… sure," I whispered.
He walked closer, and suddenly the distance between us felt smaller than it ever should. "About last week… the office, Mark, everything. I just want to make sure we're… aligned. Boundaries, expectations… the contract."
"Yes," I said quickly, eager to reassure him. "Everything's clear. I—"
Before I could finish, he leaned slightly, and I could see his eyes—intense, unwavering. "Good. I just… don't want anything to blur lines. Between us."
My chest tightened. Lines… between us. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
He moved a fraction closer, and suddenly, it was too close. My back hit the counter, the knife forgotten. "E-Ethan…" I stammered, heart racing.
"Lara," he said, voice low, serious. "I don't want to pressure you. But… being this close… it's inevitable that we'll feel things. And I need you to promise me something."
I swallowed hard. "W-What?"
"Promise me… we'll respect the contract. The rules. No crossing lines that can hurt either of us."
"I… I promise," I whispered, aware of how hard it was to keep my voice steady.
For a moment, we just stood there, inches apart, the air between us thick with tension. I could feel his breath, the warmth of his body, the unspoken words hovering dangerously close.
Then, as if sensing my nerves, he stepped back, giving me space. "Good. That's all I need for now."
I exhaled shakily, my heart still racing. Contract marriage. Rules. Boundaries. Pero somehow, the closer he got, the harder it became to remember the rules.
As he moved to the kitchen to make coffee, I realized something: pretending was no longer simple. And one year… one contract… wasn't enough to contain the storm of emotions building between us.