บททั้งหมดของ contractually yours : บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Ethan had been home for nearly an hour, but the silence in his apartment felt heavy, like it knew something was off with him. He dropped his keys on the counter, shrugged off his blazer, and poured himself a glass of water, but nothing could wash down the knot in his chest.Layla’s voice kept replaying in his head. “I don’t have siblings anymore. My younger brother passed away.”The way she’d said it...not with drama, not for pity, but with that quiet ache, had knocked the air out of him.He sat on the edge of his couch, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. He hadn’t even known she had a brother. He didn’t know how she’d lost him. And yet, somehow, that one fact made her feel more real to him than all the fake handholding and practiced smiles they’d shared so far.It scared him. Because he wasn’t supposed to care this much. He tried distracting himself by checking emails, flipping through channels, scrolling his phone, but his brain kept circling back.The way Layla had straighten

Ethan woke up earlier than usual, but it didn’t feel like his usual mornings. Normally, he’d drag himself out of bed, throw on his running shoes, jog a few miles, shower, and head to the office with his head already full of tasks, deadlines, and numbers. He liked routine. Routine kept him steady. But that morning? His mind wasn’t on the reports waiting for him at his desk or the meeting he had to lead by noon. It was on her. Layla. Her laugh kept echoing in his head. That soft, low laugh that had slipped out when she teased him about being “too serious for his own good.” The way her lips curved when she’d smiled at him. The way she’d looked at him in the car before she got out, her face half in the glow of the streetlight, half in the shadows. And then that last moment. “Goodnight, fake boyfriend,” she’d said, with a little smirk, but her eyes… they’d lingered on his. Too long. Too much. And Ethan, against all better judgment, had found himself wanting to lean in just a littl

Ethan stayed leaned back against the couch, eyes on the ceiling like he didn’t have a care in the world. But Layla could see the way his jaw worked, the little tic that always showed when he was holding something in. Her apartment was still, except for the faint hum of the fridge and the muffled noise of cars outside. After hours of moving things around, the silence felt heavier than it should. Layla hugged the pillow tighter to her chest. She tried to look relaxed, but her body buzzed like she’d had too much coffee. Every detail of the last hour kept replaying in her mind....his hand on her waist, his eyes catching hers, the way their fingers had locked too long over the box. She couldn’t stop feeling the ghost of his touch on her skin. “You’re quiet,” Ethan said finally, turning his head toward her. His voice was calm, but softer than usual. Layla shrugged. “Just… tired, I guess.” “Tired?” He smirked. “You made me do all the work.” That pulled a laugh out of her, and the ten

Ethan wasn’t supposed to care this much.That’s what he kept telling himself the whole way home after leaving Layla’s apartment.She had looked at him with those wide eyes, asking why he cared. He’d nearly told her the truth right there, that she mattered more than he wanted to admit. But then he’d cracked a joke instead, because jokes were safe.Safe was easier.But the truth was, the second he’d seen her story yesterday, that blurry glass across the table, the ache in his chest had been real. Stupidly real.He hated Derek on principle. Hated the way the guy had hurt her before. Hated that Layla had agreed to see him again at all. But what burned the most was knowing Derek had still been sitting across from her, smiling at her, talking to her. And Ethan hadn’t.By evening, Ethan was pacing his living room, restless. He’d tried working out, but even the punching bag hadn’t helped.His phone buzzed on the counter. A message from Layla."Got the photos sent off. Deadline met. I’m offici

Layla almost talked herself out of going. She wasn’t in the mood for a party, not really. Not after last night, not after tossing and turning until dawn with thoughts of Ethan and that gym story. But her best friend Nora had texted her three times, insisting she show up to the party. Ethan had called too, saying he’d swing by her place so they could go together. And still, Layla sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the shoes in her hand, wondering if it was worth it.She preferred quiet nights, a blanket, a good book or a messy project to edit. But Ciara had begged, and Ethan… well, Ethan had said it would be “fun.”Fun. With him, that word carried danger. She sighed and slipped on the shoes, grabbing her bag before she could change her mind.When Ethan knocked, she opened the door and found him leaning in the frame like he always did...too casual, too confident. His hair was still damp from a shower, and his shirt fit just right across his shoulders.“Wow,” he said, giving her a sl