Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 87: Work Harder

Sarah

When I heard his voice in the dark, cold fear gripped me like a vice.

My breath hitched in my throat, my heartbeat pounding in my ears louder than the music echoing from the ballroom. I knew that voice. Smooth. Charming. Familiar in the worst kind of way.

"He shouldn’t have let you leave alone," he had said.

Did he follow me to the bathroom?

I turned slowly, but I couldn’t see him. It was pitch dark.

"What...why did you follow me?" I asked.

"I wanted to speak to you alone, and now it is as good a time as any. You really don’t remember me, do you?" he said softly, tilting his head. "But I remember you."

Something in his voice had changed. It wasn’t just charm anymore. It was nostalgia twisted with something darker.

"You were always so quiet," he continued, his tone low and intimate, "always hiding behind your nanny’s skirts. But you would look at me. Do you remember that? You would watch me."

"I don’t know what you mean," I said, heart hammering now. "I need to go find Matthew."

He chuckled, and the sound sent my stomach twisting.

"You won’t find him in the dark," he murmured. "I will have to say. You’ve become quite the woman, Sarah."

I stumbled backward and pressed against the bathroom wall. I felt trapped like a cornered animal.

The darkness pressed in around me, thick and suffocating. My lungs constricted as my eyes frantically tried to adjust, searching for any hint of his outline in the blackness. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his presence—a predatory stillness that made the hair on my arms rise.

"Please," I whispered, my voice cracking. "The lights. Can we turn on the lights?"

"The power is out, my dear." His voice floated from somewhere to my left, then seemed to shift to my right. "Still afraid? You were always so scared of the dark. I remember that too. I guess something never changes."

My chest tightened painfully. I tried to slow my breathing, but panic was rising in me like a tide.

Where was Matthew? Isn’t he looking for me?

"I’m not a little girl anymore," I managed.

"No," he agreed, suddenly sounding much closer. "You are not."

I gasped, jerking sideways, away from his voice. My shoulder knocked against something hard, the sink perhaps.

Pain shot through me. The disorientation was making everything worse. In the dark, I couldn’t even trust my senses.

What did he want? Why corner me like this?

I pressed my palms flat against the wall, trying to ground myself as cold sweat beaded on my forehead. My legs felt weak, threatening to buckle beneath me.

"Matthew!" I called out, my voice breaking into a desperate sob. "Matthew, please!"

"He can’t hear you," came the soft reply. "Not with the music. Not through these walls."

I felt a brush of fabric against my arm and recoiled violently, stumbling sideways. A small whimper escaped my lips as tears began to well in my eyes.

"Don’t—don’t touch me," I gasped, turning blindly.

"I just want to talk, Sarah. I missed you."

"I don’t know you," I insisted, my voice rising with hysteria. "I don’t know you!"

He grabbed my arm again, and my knees buckled. I slid against the floor and sat on the floor, sobbing.

"Calm down. Always so dramatic. I just want to..."

And that’s when Matthew interrupted him.

~-~

Sarah!

Someone is shaking me.

I wake up with a gasp and try to slap the shadow in front of me, but it grabs my arm and pins it against the bed.

"Sarah, it’s me, Matthew. You are having a nightmare again," he says.

My chest heaves as I breathe heavily. Matthew’s voice is steady, calm, but my heart hasn’t caught up with reality yet.

I blink rapidly, trying to ground myself, his face slowly coming into focus through the haze of fear.

"Matthew," I breathe.

He loosens his grip on my arm, brushing his hand down to lace our fingers together. "I’ve got you," he murmurs, his thumb stroking gently across my skin. "You’re safe. It was just a dream."

But it doesn’t feel like just a dream.

"I heard him," I say, tears already spilling again. "I could hear him, smell the cologne he used to wear. I couldn’t move, Matthew. I thought I was back there. I thought he had me again."

My voice cracks, and the words tumble out faster, messier, like I can purge the fear if I just say it all out loud.

Matthew pulls me into his arms, wrapping them tightly around me. His warmth, his steady heartbeat is the only thing reminding me this is now. This is real. I’m not alone in the dark.

"I am going to find out who he is, Sarah," he says gruffly.

My fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt. "But..."

He pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes. His jaw is clenched, his brows drawn tight. "Don’t tell me you want to argue against it."

My lips tremble. "What if I don’t want to remember?"

"So what? You are just going to live in fear of the darkness and basements for the rest of your life?" he barks.

I push him off and lie down, turning my back on him. "What do you care anyway? You wanted me to suffer, didn’t you? Well, now you have someone helping you do it for you."

Matthew is quiet for a moment.

"Is that really what you think?" he asks, voice quieter now.

"I don’t think. I know. Only because you told me yourself," I remind him.

"For a good reason and you know it," he says.

I shiver as I feel something touch my back. A fingertip?

"Yes," I whisper. "I lied to you and I didn’t try to stop my father when he forced you to marry me. I lied, lied, and lied. I even hired those men to rob me, so you’ll come save me, thinking I was the damsel in distress."

God, I was so fucking dumb back then.

"Yes. You were quite vindictive," he says, near my ear now. "What else did you lie to me about?"

I stiffen, holding my breath.

"Nothing," I whisper.

His finger traces my spine through my thin nightgown. "Sarah."

His touch burns through the fabric. I want to push him away and pull him closer all at once. The contradiction is maddening.

"Tell me what else you lied about," he asks again.

I stay silent for a moment, trying to keep my breathing steady. But his finger moves again, slowly, deliberately down my spine, and my control snaps just a little.

"Fine," I say, voice muffled by the pillow. "I also told you I made that meatloaf you liked so much."

He stills behind me.

"...What?"

"I didn’t make it. Marishka did," I say quickly, turning just enough to glare at him over my shoulder. "I was just trying to impress you."

Matthew blinks, and for a second, there’s nothing but stunned silence between us. Then, against all odds, his lips twitch.

"You lied about the meatloaf?"

I nod, burying my face into the pillow again. "She even sprinkled parsley on it. I wouldn’t know how to make meatloaf if my life depended on it."

Matthew makes a sound, part laugh, part groan, as he drapes an arm over my waist and pulls me closer. "Unbelievable. How can I trust you ever again? And to think I was starting to like you...a little."

Is he making fun of me?

Was that a joke? Or...is he being serious?

His tone is impossible to read. It is somewhere between teasing and something deeper, more vulnerable. I turn to face him, trying to gauge the expression on his face. His lips are curved into a smirk.

Oh, he is definitely messing with me. Bastard.

I narrow my eyes at him, swatting his chest with the back of my hand. "You’re such an ass."

Matthew just chuckles, catching my wrist easily and bringing it to his lips. "Maybe," he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin, "but you still owe me meatloaf. The one you will make yourself."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I will do that but don’t blame me if it’s too dry."

We stay quiet for a moment.

"I asked Marishka about Rodrigo," he says, breaking the silence.

I stiffen against him. "What did she say?"

"She didn’t see him do anything to you," Matthew says, sounding disappointed. "But said she never liked him because there was always something off about him."

"Oh," I say. I don’t know what else to say.

"She said she tried to keep you away when he visited as much as she could, and you were never alone with him," he added.

My heart is pounding again. Hearing Rodrigo’s name still makes my stomach twist.

"That’s good, right?" I whisper.

"I don’t know, Sarah. I believe her, but he must’ve done something. And I’ll find out what he did, how he got to you..." He pauses, then adds, "Even if you don’t remember, someone does."

A lump forms in my throat. I press my face against his chest, my voice small. "What if I don’t want to know? What if remembering just breaks me?"

Matthew hugs me. "You are not going to break," he says gently. "You are strong."

I shut my eyes tightly, biting back the sudden rush of emotion that threatens to spill over again. "How do you know?"

"You seem to be surviving me just fine," he says, kissing my forehead.

I scoff. "Oh, please. You are not as bad as you want to act."

Matthew chuckles softly against my skin. "Don’t ruin this for me, Sarah. I’ve worked very hard to be the emotionally unavailable villain in your story."

I close my eyes. "You need to work harder," I mumble before falling asleep.