Cold Feet

"Let go of it."

"Why should I? Maybe you should let go of it." Aaron teased, his eyes brightened with amusement.

She raised a brow, boring her eyes deeply into his. She was in no mood for his teasing.

"I will if you say the word please." Aaron had his infuriating smile on, the one that irritated her. All she wanted was silence and coffee.

She breathed out. She had no intention of saying please to a man like him.

"I'm going to count."

Aaron's smile widened even more at her stubbornness.

"Trust me, I love it when you get bossy."

Montserrat let go of the handle with an irritated huff and turned away, intent on leaving.

"Heading to bed?" he asked, pushing the coffee mug aside, having no use for it. "Need me to tuck you in bed?"

Montserrat eased into a smile. "Shouldn't you be doing that with Ms. Fairfax?"

"Nah, she doesn't need it. I can actually see her legs hanging over the bed. She doesn't need me tucking her in." He chuckled. "Why are you up, though? New house, can't sleep?"

"No." She answered sharply.

"Then what?"

"I was thirsty."

"Ah... I totally see..." He pointed repeatedly at her. "Something is bothering you."

She rolled her eyes, heading for the door before she remembered why she had come downstairs in the first place.

“Our court wedding.”

“Right... Tomorrow.” Aaron said in a bored tone.

She faced him completely. “It’s been postponed.”

Aaron’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and certainly wanted to believe she was pulling his leg.

“Why’s that?”

“Why’s that?” Montserrat repeated, utterly surprised that he’d even asked. “I thought you hated the idea of us getting married, not questioned it.”

“Oh, I love the idea, alright. I’m just shocked it happened just like that.” Aaron shrugged. “It was nice knowing you, though.”

“I’m not done. I requested for the wedding to be postponed.” She clarified.

“That means I should be grateful to you.” Aaron grinned.

“My request for the postponement comes from a place where I believe we shouldn’t rush into it. While I might not have an issue with an arranged marriage, you quite clearly seem to have a problem with the idea.”

“I’m not entirely against the idea, I just don’t see the benefit of it. I’ve stated my position clearly. It has nothing to do with you absolutely.” Aaron explained.

She took steps towards him before she was a few feet away and stopped.

Aaron's eyes roamed over her, a smirk resting at his lips before he said, “You see, I love women like you. I love to unravel them.”

“Women... like me?”

“Dark, stoic, reserved, unreadable...”

“Why? You seem like someone who is too lazy for a challenge.”

“Maybe when it comes to work, but with women...” He paused, “That is a whole different type of challenge.”

“I don't believe you.”

Aaron chuckled, flipping the mug while maintaining eye contact with her. Somehow, he enjoyed what was going on between them.

“Because I'm very lazy.”

“No, because earlier I passed by your home office and it doesn't give lazy to me. You are very much dedicated.” Montserrat countered.

“Don't let one night fool you.” He waved it off. “Father has been giving this lecture about doing my best to earn my keep in the Martinez wealth. Look at me, couldn't even bury my head into it for more than ten minutes.”

“You've been on it for just ten minutes?” She asked, shocked.

“Could be less.”

Montserrat almost had her laugh slip past in front of him. She remembered passing the office, him racking his head, looking disheveled, papers everywhere, all serious—and he was just there for ten minutes?

“That's the highest I've gone on my own.” He admitted. “But I know that's your thing. You seem to work really hard for your family.”

"If I don't, who will?"

"Maybe your employees... I mean, one thing is for sure, that restaurant, there should be a change. Start from the chef. He or she is probably the reason it's been run to the ground." Aaron remarked casually. "Food tastes horrible."

Montserrat sucked in her breath, her chest tight as she admitted, "It's not their fault."

“Clearly it is, but if you don't want to, it's fine. Your family has enough other businesses to absorb a little loss.” Aaron said dismissively.

Montserrat nodded. "We do, so stop judging."

"I was only offering advice, just like everyone else who refuses my input. You don't need it." Aaron shrugged.

"Because I didn't ask for it." Her voice raised slightly. "Ever since we've met, you've done nothing but belittle my family because I chose to marry you."

“You make it sound like marrying me is the most disgusting thing ever.”

"Is it not? I could count so many other men that would be better suited for me."

Aaron's amused expression disappeared, his jaw tightening for the briefest moment.

She breathed out, realizing she was letting her emotions get into her head.

“Don't make me the yardstick for every man you could have chosen, like you didn't already know my reputation before agreeing to put yourself in this position.” Aaron said, his voice quieter now. "You knew exactly what kind of man I was before you agreed to this arrangement."

Montserrat stared at him.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Her fingers tightened around the rope of her robe as she held his gaze, but whatever retort had been on the tip of her tongue suddenly disappeared.

Aaron didn't look amused anymore.

She turned abruptly and hurried toward the stairs.

By the time she reached her room, her heart was pounding for reasons she refused to examine. She pushed the door shut behind her and rested her back against it, squeezing her eyes closed.

Her head was knee-deep in thoughts, and only one name came to mind—the one person who could calm her down and tell her everything was going to be alright.

She crawled onto her bed and picked up her phone.

Her thumb hovered over her contacts before she found the one saved as Unknown Number.

She stared at it.

Her finger hovered over the call button.

One press, and she could hear his voice.

But she couldn't do it.

Not after everything.

She pulled back and opened their messages instead.

After a long pause, She scrolled through the conversation, past the messages she'd sent over the months. She'd stopped keeping count a long time ago.

There were questions.

Random thoughts.

Little pieces of her day.

Things she would never tell anyone else.

And in all of these, was his silence.

The last time he'd replied was three months ago when things was perfect and she knew he was the one.

Montserrat stared at his last message for several seconds before her thumb moved to the typing bar.

She typed.

"I need you tonight."

She hesitated before typing again.

"What if we just eloped?"

Her thumb froze above the screen.

The was ridiculous, Impulsive. Montserrat she knows would never think of doing something as crazy as this, even having such thought was a sin to her.

And yet, for the first time that night, the thought of escaping responsibility—and everything her family had decided for her—made her breathe a little easier.

She pressed send.

Then she placed the phone beside her and stared at the ceiling.