His Contract Wife: I Want Divorce, He Wants Me Back

Sophia ~

The scotch trembled in my hands as I stood frozen outside Alexander's study.

"She knew what this marriage was from the beginning." My husband's voice drifted through the half-open door, cold and matter-of-fact.

"It's an arrangement that benefits both families. I've given Sophia everything she could want, why should it matter if I don't love her the way she apparently loves me?"

The crystal tumbler slipped from my fingers. I caught it just before it crashed, but the damage was already done. Two years of loving a man who saw me as nothing more than a convenient obligation.

"Elena, you're the only one who understands," Alexander continued, his voice softening in a way it never did for me. "I'll see you at the usual place tomorrow. Yes, of course. You too."

I backed away slowly, my heart splintering with each step. The expensive scotch, his favorite, aged thirty years, the one I'd hunted through three specialty stores to find, suddenly felt like a mockery in my hands.

How pathetic was I? Playing the devoted wife to a man who called another woman at eleven PM.

I made it to our bedroom, no, his bedroom; I was just a temporary resident—before the tears came. Silent, bitter tears that I'd held back for months, maybe years. I pressed my face into the pillow, muffling the sound of my breaking heart.

The door opened.

"Sophia?"

I shot up, hastily wiping my face. Alexander stood in the doorway, his tie loosened, looking as devastatingly handsome as the night we'd met. Dark hair slightly disheveled, steel-gray eyes assessing me with that calculating gaze he used in boardrooms.

"Are you crying?" He frowned, stepping closer. "What's wrong?"

Everything. Nothing. How could I explain that I was dying inside while he remained perfectly content?

"I'm fine." I turned away, my voice hoarse. "Just tired."

"You don't look fine." His hand touched my shoulder, and I flinched. He noticed. Of course he noticed, Alexander Wyndham noticed everything except the woman desperate for his love. "Sophia, talk to me."

Talk to him? About what? About how I'd fallen in love with my own husband while he kept his heart locked away for someone else?

"I brought you scotch," I said instead, gesturing to the tumbler I'd set on the nightstand. "The thirty-year-old blend you mentioned wanting to try."

He glanced at it, then back at me. "That's thoughtful, but…."

"But you're not thirsty. Of course." I laughed, and it sounded broken even to my ears. "You're never thirsty for anything I offer"

His eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." I stood, needing distance. "Absolutely nothing."

"Sophia." His voice took on that commanding edge, the one that made corporate executives tremble. "I don't appreciate cryptic accusations. If you have something to say, say it."

The audacity. The sheer audacity of this man to demand honesty when he'd been emotionally unfaithful for our entire marriage.

"Do you love me?" The question escaped before I could stop it.

Silence. Heavy, suffocating silence.

Alexander's expression shifted, surprise, then something like discomfort. "That's not a fair question."

"It's the simplest question in the world." My hands clenched into fists. "Do. You. Love. Me?"

"I respect you," he said carefully. "I provide for you. I've given you everything a wife could want"

"Everything but yourself." The words tasted like ash. "You gave me your name, your money, your protection. Everything except the one thing that matters."

"Sophia, you're being emotional"

"Don't." I held up my hand, something inside me finally snapping. "Don't you dare dismiss my feelings as 'emotional.' I've been emotional for two years, Alexander. I've been emotional every time you worked late to avoid coming home. Every time you took Elena's calls and left the room. Every time you looked at me like I was a stranger wearing your ring."

His jaw tightened. "Elena is my friend. We've known each other since…."

"Since before me. I know." God, I was so tired. "I know everything, Alexander. I know she's the one you wish you'd married. I know I'm just the convenient solution to a scandal that forced your hand."

"That's not…." He stepped forward, and I stepped back.

"I want a divorce."

The words hung in the air like shattered glass.

Alexander froze, his expression shifting from surprise to something darker. Dangerous. "What did you just say?"

"I want a divorce," I repeated, my voice stronger now. "I'm done, Alexander. I'm done pretending this marriage is something it's not. I'm done loving someone who'll never love me back."

"No." One word. Flat. Absolute.

"Excuse me?"

"No," he repeated, moving closer. His hand caught my wrist, not painful, but unyielding. "You're my wife, Sophia. You're not leaving."

I stared at him, at the possessive fire in his eyes, and realized with horror that Alexander Wyndham had no intention of letting me go.

Even if staying destroyed me completely.