Falling For My Contract Husband Novels & Stories

As I made my way to my office, I could not stop thinking of what suddenly possessed Diane, Diane wasn’t one to be swayed by emotions, she was very strict and definitely my mother’s illness on a normal day wouldn’t have been enough excuse for her. Either ways, I was grateful that I didn’t have to lose my job, thank you to whatever made her that lenient with me. My phone dinged in my pocket signalling the arrival of a new message, I slowly dipped my hands in my pocket and took it out and peered in it. “Contract Husband” was written boldly on the screen specifying who the message was from, I clicked on it and opened the message as I walked into my office and slammed the door shut behind me.

“Someone with no scandalous past. So would you like to be my wife? A contract wife for just seven years to put all the rumors to rest.” I looked at him, my heart pounding. I was so happy. I saw it as an opportunity to get close to him, to see him every day, to sleep beside him. Maybe he would finally notice me. Finally see me. “Yes. I don’t mind being your wife,” I said without hesitation. I didn’t even think twice. I didn’t care if it was just a contract. I really wanted to be with him. My first love. He brought out the contract paperwork. I read through the terms and signed it joyfully.

I laughed, then suddenly her face frowned, and I took my hand away from her. “That's why you should stop yourself from falling for me because I also have no plans to love you. Remember we're just married on paper, and we're not really a couple so whatever I do in the future don't misunderstand it, that's just part of my acting, do you understand?” In response, she turned around and went out the door. I smiled and looked again at the marriage contract I was holding now, and I immediately signed it. “I just don't know. If I couldn't fall for you because right now, I can't control myself anymore.” I whispered to myself as I stared at the door.

the maid in the center confessed, falling to her knees. "Are you stupid? Can’t you keep your mouth shut? What do you mean my husband and I have a contract marriage?" I asked angrily, even though it is a contract marriage, I could not admit that. "Who gave you the information that it is a contract marriage? Or were you going into Jonathan’s office to snoop around his documents?" I asked sharply.

He looked pained, like he didn’t want to hear that. “You’re not,” he said quietly. “But I am, Jillian,” I whispered. “Because I’m falling for you. And I hate it.” His breath hitched. For once, he had no words. I turned away, but he caught my wrist again—gentler this time. “I’m falling too, Christy,” he said. “That’s why this is so messed up.” I froze. “I never wanted to feel anything for you. This marriage… it was supposed to be a contract. A means to an end. But now… I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I try. Even when Alyssa’s in front of me, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I thundered and he flinched a little because he was scared the conversation went from 0-100 almost immediately. “I’m sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean it that way. I didn’t mean to insult you or make fun of you. I just meant to inquire more about your husband and the reason why you complain about him,” he apologized and I hummed with a slight nod “Well, my husband and I are involved in a contract marriage,” I said and paused to watch his reaction. He shifted a bit on his chair and I continued. “We got into that marriage with two separate goals of course. He wanted his father’s wealth and I wanted him to love me,” I said, sadness written all over my face while he listened attentively to me.

I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. I shifted slightly “I was fulfilling my role as your wife. Everything between us—everything we’ve shared—it’s all tied to the contract. That’s all it ever was.” His brows furrowed, confusion flashing across his face. “What the hell are you talking about?” “The contract,” I repeated, hating the words as they left my lips. “You’re the one breaking it. Have you forgotten what we agreed to? If either of us develops real feelings, the contract is nullified.” I paused “We have only a few months left, Nicholas. Let’s not complicate....”

Like ask why. He kissed her. I swallowed hard, the sour taste of old wine and older disappointment rising in my throat. The internet thought I was a fool. The pitied wife who got played, discarded, forgotten. But they didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know about the contract. About the ten million dollars. About how none of it was ever supposed to feel real. And yet… it did. I fell. Not gracefully. Not logically. I fell like someone who never expected to land.

I stop, not sure how to finish that sentence. “Different how?” “She’s real. Honest. She doesn’t want anything from me except what I’ve explicitly offered.” I stare out the window at Manhattan streaming past. “And she sees me. The real me, beneath all the bullshit. And she’s not running.” “Yet.” “Yet,” I agree quietly. “So what are you going to do about it?” Good question. What am I going to do about the fact that I’m falling for my contract wife? That this arrangement has become something I don’t know how to control?

He buys me a home. He builds a business for me. He shows up every time. And I don’t know when exactly I started falling. Maybe the night he held me after the nightmare. Maybe the first time he called me “kitten” in that low, dangerous voice. Maybe when he introduced me as “my wife” like the title meant everything. But I did fall, my contract husband, my accidental heart owner. I pressed my hand to my chest, catching my breath like someone had pulled the truth out of me.