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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Second Choice: Wife by contract: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

141 Kabanata

Chapter 31

The house feels different again. Not quieter. Just… watchful. Like the walls are listening. Like something has already happened and the space hasn’t caught up yet. Ethan sits across from me on the couch, one ankle resting on his knee, fingers laced together. He’s trying to look calm. He isn’t succeeding. His jaw is too tight. His shoulders don’t rest the way they used to. We’ve been circling the conversation for almost an hour now. “So,” I say finally, breaking it. “Do you want to talk about it, or are we going to keep pretending we’re fine until one of us snaps?” He lets out a breath. Half laugh. Half surrender. “I don’t think I’m pretending.” “That makes one of us.” His eyes flick to mine. There’s something there now. Something rawer. Less guarded. I hate how much that affects me. “I didn’t like it,” he says. “Luca,” I offer. “Everything,” he corrects. “You being gone. You not answering. The not knowing.” I nod slowly. “You didn’t like how it felt.” “No,” he says quietly

Chapter 32

— I don’t say it back. Not immediately. The words sit between us like something fragile we’re both afraid to touch. I love you. They don’t echo. They don’t demand. They just exist. Warm. Terrifying. Real in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Ethan doesn’t move away. Doesn’t rush me. His forehead rests against mine, barely there, like he’s giving me room to decide whether I’ll run or stay. My chest feels too full. Like if I inhale wrong, I’ll cry. Or laugh. Or confess something I can’t take back. “I don’t know what to do with that,” I whisper. It’s the truth. Ugly and honest. He nods once. Slow. Careful. “You don’t have to do anything.” That almost ruins me. Because that’s not pressure. That’s choice. We fall asleep tangled together, limbs familiar but hearts unsettled. Like two people hoping rest will make something clearer when it never does. — Morning comes in fragments. Light slicing through the curtains. The city humming like it doesn’t care what we did last night. The s

Chapter 33

I tell him he can go. The words surprise me as they leave my mouth. I feel them pass my tongue before I’ve fully agreed with them in my head. “You can see her,” I say, quieter than I meant to. “If you want to.” Ethan looks at me like I’ve just handed him something sharp. Something he doesn’t trust himself to hold. “Are you sure?” he asks. I nod, even though my chest feels like it’s folding inward. “I just… don’t lie to me anymore. Please.” That’s the real ask. Not permission. Honesty. He steps closer. Takes my hands. Warm. Familiar now, which still scares me sometimes. “I would never lie to you,” he says. And I believe him. That’s the worst part. I believe him so easily it feels reckless. We don’t talk much after that. Not because it’s awkward, but because it’s heavy. Like we’ve both placed something fragile on the table and agreed not to touch it too hard. Later, when he leaves, he kisses my forehead instead of my mouth. Gentle. Respectful. It shouldn’t hurt.

Chapter 34

The question just hangs there. “How long have you liked him?” It feels heavier than it should. Like it already knows the answer and is waiting for me to catch up. “I don’t,” I say. Too fast. Defensive. My voice jumps before my thoughts do. That’s how I know it’s not clean. Not a lie. Just unfinished. Ethan’s mouth tightens. He nods once, slow, like he’s bracing himself. “You don’t have to protect me,” he says. “I can handle it.” That makes something hot rise in my chest. Because I’m not protecting him. I’m trying to protect myself from saying something I don’t fully understand yet. “I don’t like him,” I repeat, softer. “Not like that. It’s not romantic.” He doesn’t respond immediately. Just stares at the floor, jaw working. “He hasn’t even said anything,” I add quickly, like that helps. “He hasn’t crossed a line. Ever.” “That’s worse,” he says. I blink. “Why?” He exhales, sharp. Like he’s been holding it in all night. “Because he didn’t need to.” That lands in my chest

Chapter 35

The call comes when I’m alone. Of course it does. Ethan has stepped out to take a meeting, something brief, something “nothing serious.” He said it like a promise. Or maybe like a warning. I don’t know anymore. I watched him grab his jacket, watched the way his eyes lingered on me like he was checking if I’d still be there when he came back. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in my hand, scrolling without reading, when it rings. Unknown number. I almost don’t answer. Something in my chest already knows. “Hello?” “Hi, Solene. This is Nadia, from Crestview Properties.” My stomach drops so fast I have to put my other hand on the mattress to steady myself. “Yes,” I say. My voice sounds normal. I hate that it does. “I’m calling to let you know the apartment you viewed is ready. If you’re still interested, we’ll send over the final paperwork today.” Ready. The word echoes. Loud. Heavy. “Oh,” I say. Brilliant. Eloquence at its peak. “Okay.” There’s a pause on her end. P

Chapter 36

“I need to tell you something.” The words come out wrong. Too formal. Too late. I’m already sitting across from him, already here, already feeling like I crossed a line just by showing up. Luca looks up from his cup. Waits. He’s good at that. Waiting without pushing. “I’m married,” I say. There. Out in the open. Heavy and undeniable. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t look shocked. That almost hurts more. “I know,” he says gently. Then, after a beat, “No offense, but the terms of your marriage are… very public.” I flinch. Not because he’s rude. Because he’s right. “I don’t mean to intrude,” he adds quickly, reading my face. “Or disrespect it.” I nod, my fingers tightening around my bag strap. “I just didn’t want you thinking—” “That I didn’t know?” he finishes. “Or that I expected something?” I look down. The table has a small crack running through it. I trace it with my eyes like it might save me. “I don’t expect anything from you,” Luca continues. His voice is steady, careful. Li

Chapter 37

I notice the room change before I see her. It’s subtle. A shift. Like when air pressure drops and your ears don’t pop, but your body still knows something is coming. People straighten. Voices lower. Laughter thins out, like someone turned the volume knob just a little to the left. I’m holding a glass I’ve already forgotten to drink from. My fingers are cold. Or numb. Hard to tell. Ethan’s hand is at the small of my back. Familiar. Anchoring. And then it stills. That’s when I know. I look up. Celeste doesn’t announce herself. She doesn’t need to. She steps into the space like it was always hers and everyone else is just borrowing it for the evening. She looks exactly how I remember her. Which is annoying. Which feels unfair. Like time didn’t dare to touch her without permission. Elegant. Composed. Soft smile that doesn’t reach too far, like she’s careful not to give more than necessary. Her eyes find Ethan first. Of course they do. Something passes between them. It’s fast. O

Chapter 38

It doesn’t come from her. That’s the worst part. I find out the way people always do now. Through a screen. Through someone else’s voice. Through a headline that pretends it isn’t about me. Mara sends the link first. No caption. Just the link. That’s how I know it’s bad. I’m standing in the kitchen, barefoot, half-awake, holding a mug I’ve already forgotten about. I open it without thinking. Celeste Laurent makes rare public appearance at the Harrington Foundation Gala. Opens up about love, loss, and learning to let go. Rare. Public. Harrington. My chest tightens before I even scroll. There’s a photo. She’s wearing white. Of course she is. Soft makeup. Hair pulled back in that effortless way that screams discipline and money and self-control. She looks untouched by time. By consequences. By Ethan. I scroll. “She was my family before she was my partner,” Celeste says in the interview. “Some bonds don’t disappear just because circumstances change.” Circumstances. I swal

Chapter 39

I almost don’t go. That’s the truth I don’t tell Ethan when I’m standing in front of the mirror, earrings half on, dress zipped but not settled on my body yet. I keep adjusting it like if I get it right enough, the night will behave. The invitation has been sitting on the counter all day. Heavy paper. Embossed letters. The kind of event where people remember what you wore and forget what you said. The Harrington Foundation Gala. His family. Their world. Cameras that pretend not to look directly at you. Ethan watches me from the doorway. Already dressed. Already composed. He looks like himself again, the version the world knows. It makes my chest tighten. “We can leave early,” he says. He’s been saying that a lot lately. As if everything is survivable as long as there’s an exit. I nod. I don’t say what I’m thinking, which is that leaving early doesn’t undo being seen. The car ride is quiet. Not tense exactly. Just full. His hand finds my thigh at a red light. Grounds me. Claim

Chapter 40

The apartment door closes behind us with a sound that feels too final for a Tuesday night.Not a slam. Ethan doesn’t do that. Just a soft click. Controlled. Careful. Like if he’s gentle enough, nothing else will break.I kick off my heels by the door. One lands upright. The other tips over. That feels symbolic somehow, but I don’t have the energy to chase the thought. My feet ache. My jaw aches from smiling too long. My chest aches from holding things in.The gala is still clinging to me. Perfume. Camera flashes. Polite laughter that never quite reaches the eyes. The way people kept looking at Ethan like they were waiting for him to explode again. Or apologise. Or explain.I hated that part most.Being looked at like context.Ethan shrugs off his jacket and hangs it neatly, even though his shoulders are tight and his movements are sharp. He runs a hand through his hair, then stills, like he’s remembered something mid-thought.“You want water?” he asks.I nod. Or maybe I don’t. I’m not

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