When My Contract Husband Falls For Me Mga Nobela at Kwento

Lock myself in my bedroom and lean against the door, breathing carefully through the sharp ache beneath my ribs. Performed adequately. I slid down to sit on the floor, knees pulled to my chest, and finally let myself acknowledge the truth Diana saw so clearly over lunch. I'm falling for a man who sees me as a business arrangement. A convenient solution to a public relations problem. A wife who performs adequately when required. And the worst part—the part that makes me want to scream or cry or both—is that I walked into this with eyes wide open. Signed the contract. Took his money. Agreed to every term.

"But you were wrong. I never loved you. My feelings for you were nothing more than a debt to repay. From the very beginning, there was no affection beyond that. "I didn't love you then. And now, I can barely stand the sight of you." Five years ago, the moment I signed that contract with his mother, I printed a divorce agreement. Every night, I would take it out and look at it, reminding myself that everything I endured was nothing more than part of a transaction. And over these five years, Randy trampled my heart again and again for Jeanne's sake. If I could manage not to hate him, that was already the limit of my benevolence—loving him was out of the question.

I gesticulated in the air in grand style and chuckled sadly but he didn't find it funny. “Hopefully her husband will work at being a better spouse then.” He said gently stroking the side of my face while holding my gaze. “Doesn't matter. It's a contract marriage. We don't need to like ourselves.” “Liking ourselves will make it bearable though, won't it?” He said gently and I nodded. “Okay then, deal.” I got up and stretched my hands to his to shake on it. But he also got up towering over me as he did. “Nah. After waking up the way we did, I think we are way past shaking in this relationship” followed with a wink, and I felt myself turn red in shame.

It was sending signals to her. “Commissioner, do you want to tell me something?” She said, hesitant. “How did you know?” He whispered, seizing the opportunity. His hands was crisscross at his back; above his waistline. He grimaced and furrowed his brows. She became alert. What does he want to say to her? Did he have a change of mind and want to cancel the contract? Her heart began to beat fast before he said, “You have to be vibrant. I keep seeing your husband showing up in meetings with another woman when he has you. Don't let another woman enjoy what you suffered to build.” His last words was followed by the beeping sound of his car.

I said. "I understand. Then you need to find a husband". She suggested. "I don't need a husband". I said. "Huh? you don't need a husband? So how can you do it?" She asked. "I just need a man who will act like my husband, and am willing to pay for it". I said. "Wait, like a contract?". She asked. "Exactly, you get it. Like a contract." I replied. "But.but. that will be difficult. Getting a husband, I mean hiring a husband". She said.

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.

She laughs. “What do you want with my husband?” I finally ask, the one question I've been asking myself when I'm alone at night. “I don't believe that bullshit you out up.” “Nothing, you should ask him instead. He's the one that trapped me in a contract.” “Look he does this, it's an open marriage and you're just another fuck. And if I'm being honestly I don't know why he chose you, you're the least attractive of them all.”

“Holy shit, I got so distracted. I forgot to check my phone.” “I figured. Anyway, I moved out this evening. I won’t be coming back.” “Wait… does that mean you’re with your new husband?” “Something like that.” “Girl, I’m so happy for you!” “Don’t be. It’s just a contract marriage. Everything will be over in a year, and I don’t want to get attached.” Mira scoffed. “If that guy could make you blush the other day, I doubt it’ll take long before you fall for him.”

She wrote: _Giulia Romano Bianchi. The room went silent. Contessa smiled. Signore Bianchi nodded once, satisfied. The lawyer stamped the page. Marco didn’t breathe. Giulia set the pen down and met his eyes. Her voice was steady. “There. Now I’m your wife on paper. Marco. Let’s see if you still want me when the contract ends.” She stood, legs shaking, and walked out of the room before he could answer. Outside, the Roman sky was too bright. Too blue. Giulia pressed her back against the stone wall and slid to the ground.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s not that simple anymore?” After serving my food, he sat down and looked at me. “I’m willing to accept your child, Neah. I don’t care who his father is. You’re the only one I want to be with. You’re the only woman I’ll ever marry.” He said it so directly that I found myself swallowing hard. Three years had already passed. Cassandra was the one who spent every day with him now. Hadn’t he fallen for her? I looked away and started eating. I didn’t want to look into his eyes because I was afraid I’d become weak for him again.