Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Abby stared at the ceiling of her hospital room, counting the beeps of the monitor to distract herself from the constant throbbing pain. It had been four days since the first surgery, and while the doctors said she was recovering well, her body still felt like it had been through a war.

The door opened quietly. Luke stepped inside carrying a small bag. He had been coming every day now — sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the evening. He claimed it was for appearances, but Abby was starting to doubt that excuse.

“You’re awake,” he said, placing the bag on the side table. “I brought some soup from that place your mother mentioned. She said you like it.”

Abby turned her head slowly, surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Luke shrugged, pulling the chair closer to the bed like he had done every visit. “You need to eat something decent. Hospital food is terrible.”

He helped her sit up slightly, adjusting the pillows behind her back with careful hands, avoiding the areas that were still sore. His touch was gentle — almost too gentle for a man who once insisted their marriage was purely business.

Abby took small spoonfuls of the warm soup while Luke sat watching her in silence. The quiet between them felt different now. Not as cold. Not as heavy.

“How’s your company?” she asked, trying to fill the silence.

“Still a mess,” Luke replied honestly. “But the first payment helped stabilize some debts. I have meetings tomorrow.”

Abby nodded. “You don’t have to come here every day, Luke. I know you’re busy.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his gray eyes unreadable. “The program requires a spouse to be present during recovery. Random checks can happen. It’s better if I’m documented here.”

Abby gave a small, tired smile. “Is that really the only reason?”

Luke didn’t answer. Instead, he took the empty bowl from her hands and set it aside. When she winced while trying to shift position, he immediately moved closer.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked, voice lower than usual.

“Everywhere,” she admitted with a weak laugh. “But especially my shoulders and back.”

Without a word, Luke reached behind her and gently adjusted the pillows again, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. The touch lingered a second longer than necessary. Abby’s heart skipped.

For several minutes, neither of them spoke. Luke stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, closer than he had ever been before.

“You’re stronger than I thought,” he said suddenly, almost to himself. “Most people would have broken down by now.”

Abby looked up at him. “I don’t have a choice. I have to be strong for my mom and Mia… and now for this contract too.”

Luke’s jaw tightened. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Instead, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face — a small, surprisingly tender gesture.

“Get some rest,” he murmured. “The second surgery is in three days. You need to be ready.”

That night, the pain returned with a vengeance. Abby woke up gasping, tears streaming down her face. The medication wasn’t enough. She tried to reach for the call button but her hands were shaking too badly.

Luke, who had fallen asleep in the chair beside her bed, woke up instantly. He was at her side in a heartbeat.

“Abby,” he said sharply, concern clear in his voice. “Talk to me. Where is the pain?”

“Everywhere…” she whimpered. “It feels like fire in my joints.”

Luke pressed the emergency call button, then sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her gently against his chest, careful not to hurt her. One arm wrapped around her shoulders while his other hand rubbed slow circles on her back.

“Breathe,” he whispered against her hair. “Just breathe. The nurse is coming.”

Abby clung to his shirt, burying her face in his chest. His scent — clean and masculine — surrounded her. For the first time, she felt truly safe in his arms, even though she knew it was dangerous to think that way.

The nurse arrived and increased the pain relief. As the medication started working, the pain slowly eased. Luke didn’t pull away immediately. He kept holding her, his chin resting lightly on top of her head.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said softly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Abby’s heart clenched at his words. She wanted to ask if he meant it — if he was starting to care beyond the contract. But she was too tired and too afraid of the answer.

When she finally drifted back to sleep, Luke was still sitting on the bed, his arm around her.

The next morning, Abby woke up alone in the bed but with a blanket tucked carefully around her. Luke was standing by the window, looking out at the sunrise, his back tense.

He turned when he heard her stir. For a moment, something raw flashed across his face before the cold mask returned.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Better,” she whispered. “Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to stay.”

Luke walked over and poured her a glass of water. “I told you — I’m staying until the second surgery is done. It’s part of the deal.”

Abby took the glass, her fingers brushing against his. Neither of them pulled away immediately.

The ice was cracking faster now.

And Abby wasn’t sure if she wanted to stop it anymore.

As the second surgery approached, the lines between their fake marriage and real emotions were becoming dangerously blurred.Abby sat on the hospital bed as Dr. Patel reviewed the latest test results. Six days had passed since the first surgery. The doctor smiled as she delivered the news.

“Good news, Abby. The inflammation has reduced significantly. With consistent medication and physical therapy, the second surgery may not be necessary. We can manage it with treatment for now. You’re stable enough to be discharged today.”

Abby felt a huge wave of relief wash over her. “Really? No second surgery?”

“Not at the moment,” Dr. Patel confirmed. “We’ll monitor you with weekly check-ups. Rest well and avoid heavy activities for the next few weeks.”

Her mother and Mia hugged her tightly, crying tears of joy. Luke stood near the window, arms crossed, his expression cold and detached as usual. He had stayed at the hospital as required by the program, but he barely spoke unless necessary.

The discharge papers were signed quickly. Luke handled most of the administrative details without complaint, signing wherever required as her legal husband. He remained silent during the process, his face showing no emotion.

On the drive back to the apartment, the car was quiet. Abby’s mother and Mia chatted happily in the back seat, but Luke kept his eyes on the road, offering no conversation.

When they arrived, Luke helped carry Abby’s hospital bag inside, but his touch was purely practical — no lingering, no extra concern.

“You should rest in your room,” he said flatly once her mother and Mia had left. “The program requires you to recover properly so we don’t risk any complications during future inspections. I’ll order dinner. Eat, then sleep. Nothing more.”

Abby nodded, feeling the familiar wall between them. As she watched him move around the kitchen with his usual cold efficiency, a quiet doubt crept into her mind.

Was everything he did at the hospital just an act?

The way he had held her shoulder, the quiet words of reassurance, the nights he stayed by her bed… Were they only for the contract? For the government records and public appearances? Or had there been a small glimpse of something real?

She quickly pushed the thought away. Hoping for more would only lead to heartbreak. This was still strictly business.

“I understand,” she replied quietly. “This is still just business.”

Luke gave a short nod, satisfied. “Good. Keep it that way. The second payment depends on us appearing stable. Don’t complicate things.”

He turned and continued preparing dinner without another word.

Over the next few days, their routine remained strictly contractual. Luke continued working from the living room but kept clear distance. He reminded Abby about her medication times and physical therapy appointments only when necessary, his tone always cool and professional.

One afternoon, while Abby was trying to walk around the living room for light exercise, she stumbled slightly. Luke caught her arm to steady her, but released it immediately once she regained balance.

“Be careful,” he said coldly. “If you get injured again, it could delay the contract terms or trigger more inspections. I won’t allow that to happen.”

Abby felt a small sting at his words but reminded herself this was what they had agreed to. Still, the memory of his hand on her shoulder in the hospital kept replaying in her mind. Had it all been calculated?

“I understand,” she replied softly. “I won’t complicate the contract.”

Luke nodded and walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts once again.

That evening, after Abby had taken her medication and gone to her room, Luke sat alone in the living room. He remained cold and distant, focused only on fulfilling the contract requirements.

No emotions.

No attachments.

Just one year.

And both of them were determined to stick to the rules.

For now.