All Chapters of Marriage Contract: the Billionaire and I: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

It feels like somebody is holding a hammer and banging it against my head. I rub my temples as I slowly flutter my eyes open. I don’t remember coming home last night. I did have a fight with Linnea and I was planning on getting back home once I had had enough of drinking. A woman came over to me when it was starting to be difficult for me to distinguish where I was, but I refused her offer. I didn’t go to her room with her. I told her I’m married. I specifically remember that. I would never cheat on Linnea. As my vision starts getting clearer, I immediately jolt. This isn’t my room. I’m not at home. Where am I? Horror fills me when I realise that I’m naked and covered in nothing but the bed sheets. I look everywhere and upon spotting my boxers, I put them on. I check the room and find no one. I’m all alone. I notice a note on the nightstand, so I quickly unfold it. Last night was fun. Don’t worry, I don’t kiss and tell! xx I’m doomed. I remem

“Wake up,” Nathan comes and I moan, snuggling more into him. I didn’t sleep well last night. I don’t feel like waking up. His hold is comfy and relaxing. “We should get ready, Len.” His hot breath brushes my skin, causing a tingling sensation to rush through my body. I must have turned in my sleep because my face is currently facing his chest. “Don’t you get cold?” I sleepily ask, noticing his bare chest. It takes me a couple of moments to open my eyes and when I do, I find a smiling Nathan looking at me. “Why are you staring at me like that?” I wonder, drawing invisible patterns on his chest with the tip of my finger. “To answer your first question, I don’t get cold easily. The house is also heated. As for your second question, I love looking at your eyes when you first wake up,” he replies, turning to lie down on his back and pulling me on top of him. “What’s so special about them when I first wake up?” I ask, sleepily pulling myself up only to realise that

“Len, listen to me, please. I swear I didn’t mean to sleep with her! I don’t even remember seeing her!” His excuses are pathetic. Didn’t mean to sleep with her? Why is he acting like he broke my favourite cup? Did he stumble and fell onto the bed with her? So what if he can’t remember her? Is this supposed to make things better between us?   “Go away! I don’t want to hear you!” I scream at him. I want to scream out loud. Perhaps screaming may help me with relieving the pressure that is weighing me down. There’s a fire inside of me that won’t cool and it’s hurting me. It’s killing me. He is killing me. Tears stream down my face as I hide my face in my hands. I’m drained out of energy that I can’t seem to pull myself up. I’m sprawled on the floor of my bedroom, heavily crying. My eyes are burning, but tears refuse to stop falling. When I hear his footsteps getting further, I allow myself to sob. Maybe if I sob, I will feel better. I force myself up and rea

Three days have passed, and I don’t know if Nathan called that sketchy bitch or not. I’m dying to know, but I can’t break the silent treatment I’m giving him. I’m doing my best to avoid him, but it’s hard when he’s always at the same place where I am; I’m certain he does that deliberately. The only place I get to be away from him is my bedroom. I miss sleeping next to him. I miss the way he would hold me at night. I miss how his hand always used to be placed at the back of my head and the way my arm would be draped over his torso. I miss how we used to leave no space between us whenever we would cuddle. Carole isn’t home today because she’s been quite sick and honestly, I’m glad I’m alone. Nathan is probably at work. I want to ask him about his whereabouts, but my ego and pride won’t let me do that. I place my headphones as I head to the kitchen and play some music. I love listening to music whenever I’m cooking.    I stir the sauce in the p

I didn’t expect this day to turn out to be like this. When I walked inside the house today, an ache took over my heart the moment I saw her singing while she was in the kitchen. I desperately wanted to hold her and kiss her, but I was also aware that she deprived me of that and I would never disrespect her wishes. When I gave her the letter, I was petrified that she would consider it a form of communication— which in fact it is— and leave, but thankfully, she didn’t leave. I don’t even know if she read it or not, but I didn’t find it on the kitchen counter after coming back downstairs. I didn’t find her either. I didn’t expect her to get me a plate when she went to the kitchen. I didn’t feel like eating, but I couldn’t turn her down. Not when I was desperate for any gesture from her. Fear wrapped its fingers around my heart and tightened its hold around it when she asked to meet with my lawyers. Linnea’s silence is usually scary because it’s hard to know what