Sentenced to Marriage

Chapter 51

I could use her guidance. I bet that she would scold me for thinking like a child. The problem was, I considered myself an intelligent person, a genius even in my own field, but when it came to love, emotions, and man–woman relationships, I was way beyond average. Of course, I knew how the biology part worked. I could easily tell which hormones were secreted during an orgasm, but there was nothing about an emotional switch in the books I had read, and I could really use one right now.

I sat by Grandma‘s bed, struggling not to whine at my weaknesses. I needed a moment where I could be selfish and tell someone how I felt, but I didn‘t want to flood my dearest Grandma with my restless mood. As I was about to leave, my phone rang. It was Miranda.

“Hi, I‘m just calling to tell you that I‘ve got your results. I would say that you are absolutely healthy, but as your doctor, I need to show you the numbers anyway. If you could just get here for a coffee, I would explain the details.” “All right... then if you don‘t mind, I could come to your office right now,” I said, doing my best to hide the anxiety that filled every inch of me.

“Honey, are you OK?” I quickly guessed that I didn‘t sound as composed as I wanted to sound. “Aren told me that Callan attacked you. If you want to talk, then maybe we should go out and grab some dinner?”

“I slept with Aren,” I blurted out. The other side of the phone went silent for a minute. Then I heard Miranda taking a deep breath. “Drinks then?”

Hesitation

I ended up meeting with Miranda in an Italian restaurant that she suggested. I texted Aren, informing him about it just in case he decided to come home early, but I never got his reply. I assumed that he had a lot on his mind, so I ignored the silence and decided to enjoy girl–talk and drinks.

“Let me get this straight... You two cuddled while you slept and then he made you a bath?!” | guessed that Miranda had a hard time processing what I‘d told her.

I nodded, my lips forming an awkward smile. “Yes... I guess he was worried that he had hurt me or something...”

Miranda stared at me, raising one brow. “Are you sure you are still talking about Aren, the sex on–the– leg but fucking arrogant–Aren Lan?”

I released a nervous chuckle. “Well, it‘s hard to mistake him for anyone else, isn‘t it?” She grabbed her glass of wine and emptied it before violently putting it back on the table with her hand fisted on the wine glass stem. “This is crazy! Girl, I‘m telling you, this guy has never acted that way toward anyone!”

Shivers went down my spine to tickle my sensitive center. The annoying butterflies in my stomach had all woken up to tease me, speeding up my heart rate mercilessly. “Then, what can it mean? Does it mean anything at all?” I looked at her, pleading for answers.

She sighed. “I know that I should be an expert on “Arenology,” but I seriously don‘t know what to tell you.”

“He told me that we would never be in a real relationship, and I get that, but I feel as if he constantly teases me... I mean, if any other guy treated me the way he does, I would be head over heels for him already.” I let the sound of frustration leave my throat before drinking what was left in my glass.

Miranda smiled wryly. “You are fixated on naming everything, aren‘t you? Why don‘t you just enjoy whatever it is? Some situations are so unique that we don‘t even have a name for them yet. You are not friends with benefits. You don‘t meet up for casual sex. You have a solid connection. You are in his life, in its business and private part as well. You are partners, and he cares about you. I think that there are a whole lot of so–called real relationships in this world that don‘t have half of what you have.”

She was right. I grew up knowing that my Grandmother‘s and my Mother‘s relationships ended in disaster, and I quickly diagnosed the problem as a lack of love. In my mind, love was the one thing that made the relationship solid and unbreakable. Childishly, I had never even considered connecting with

someone without sharing namable emotions. But could I reject or question something I had with Aren simply because I didn’t know how to call it? I knew that he wasn‘t going to hurt me and that he was able to save my Grandma‘s life. Wouldn‘t it be greedy to ask for more?

“I know that it‘s stupid, but those things he does... make my heart race,” I admitted.

“Oh, boy...” She exhaled and smiled at me as if she felt sorry for me “Aren doesn‘t like talling about emotions. He never needed them at work, and he practically doesn‘t have a private life, so if anyone was to confess to him right now, he would consider it unwelcomed. But this situation with you is new to him, and he is not made of stone. I suggest you wait.” She shot me an evil villainess smirk and poured us another glass of wine.

I hated waiting. I wished I could have some answers here and now, but I understood that I wasn‘t left with many options. I could either destroy whatever it was with Aren and turn us into strangers living together or embrace it... and I had long passed the point where I was able to reject him.

“Oh... I almost forgot. This is for you.” Miranda handed me a file with my medical documentation as we were heading out of the restaurant. “I would say that your health condition is perfect to bear children. And speaking of which... here.” She shoved a box of pills into my purse. “Start using it as soon as you can.”

As we walked outside, I pulled out the box she had just given me. They were birth control pills. I foolishly flushed like a nervous teenager. I used them when I was with Callan all the time. It was nothing new to me. It was the thought of sleeping with Aren regularly that placed heat on my face. Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

I came back to the penthouse willing to explore my unique partnership with Aren, but he wasn‘t there. I wavered about whether or not I should text him. Would he consider asking him if he was coming home as if I was imposing myself on him?

I didn‘t want to sound desperate. As an outcome, I slowly started to go insane. I missed him. I missed his touch, his scent, his voice... his everything! Then I began to wonder if he thought about me even once

during the day he spent at the office. Probably not. I bet he shifted into being a workaholic and blocked everything unnecessary for him to make new lucrative business deals. I bet he shoved the memories of last night deep into the furthest comers of his mind, whereas I shuddered and throbbed at the mere thought of him. Why did I even take those birth control pills from Miranda? Perhaps that was it for him–I let him taste what he wanted. What if he didn‘t enjoy the flavor? God! It was so frustrating! I kept sitting in the kitchen like an idiot just so I could look him in the eyes, searching for one magical spark that could prove that he still wanted me. Unfortunately, he didn‘t come back to the penthouse the whole night...

A little after five in the morning, I found myself sleeping with my face glued to the kitchen table with a wet spot caused by my drooling. That was when I realized I was still alone in this huge apartment. Grumping under my breath, I went upstairs to my bedroom to toss and turn in bed for another two hours. I nearly screamed when I noticed a text message from Aren.

It said, “Come to my office, as soon as you can.” Certainly, my stupid hormones took it as a reason to celebrate, but my brain showered my heated body in cold water, telling me that the message was a hundred percent business related. Forty–five minutes later, I confirmed that my brain was right.

“There is a contract issue we need to discuss,” Aren announced, closing his office door behind

1. us.

I looked at him, trying to find a single hint of desire in his expression. I found nothing.

Heaving an irritated sigh, 1 sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

“What is it you want to talk about?” I asked, not caring if my annoyance leaked into the tone of my voice

Aren sat down behind his desk. It surely didn‘t help that he was wearing his perfectly tailored dark grey suit with an unbuttoned jacket and a shirt that only emphasized his chiseled chest Luckily, I was too

upset to fully appreciate how good he looked. He put his elbows on the desk for support and put one hand on top of the other while observing me with a poker–face expression.

“Augustus Winton called me,” he finally said.

“And?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“He has a proposition for us.” Aren leaned back in his chair, his eyes still roaming around to read my face.

“For us?” I raised my eyebrows. “He suggested that our wedding ceremony should be held in the Wintons‘ mansion,” he explained.

Chills ran down my spine. I knew that it could be a perfect opportunity for Aren to get the proof he couldn‘t get last time, but the thought of meeting Callan there again felt like a kick in the stomach.

“I had one condition,” Aren continued. “I told him that I would talk to you, and we would make that decision together, but we want Callan out of the mansion for at least a week before and after the ceremony. Augustus agreed right away.”

“He did?” My eyes widened in surprise. Aren smirked. “He would send him to the Northern Pool for a year just to get what I offered in return.”

I swallowed. “And... what did you offer him?”

Aren sighed, a faint smile twisting his lips. “An investment in the hotel he‘s trying to build in Connecticut.” I exhaled nervously. “How much?” “Eighty.” He shrugged. I nearly choked on air. “Eighty… m–million dollars?!”

He nodded.

I restlessly shifted in my seat. “Is the investment even worth that much?!” “No... but yes,” he said as the corner of his mouth curled into a wicked smirk

I gasped, realizing what he meant. He wasn‘t willing to pay money so that Augustus could start an investment. He was going to pay him so that he would lower his guard. I guess, according to Aren, eighty million dollars was worth it. I cleared my throat. “If Callan is not going to be there, and you will get another shot to find

the evidence you wanted, then I agree.” He grinned. “Thank you.”

I nodded, a wry smile glued to my face, and stood up. “If that‘s all, then I will go back to my work.”

“Cora, wait,” he said, scanning my expression. “Something is bothering you. What is it?” I sighed, desperately trying to find the right words. “I just... Have I crossed your mind even once while you were at work?” I muttered hesitantly.

“What?” He glanced at me, raising his eyebrows as if I had said something amusing.

I

My smile turned into a bitter grimace. “Never mind.” I shifted on my heels and headed toward the door.

“Cora!” He rushed to grab my hand, pulling me to a halt. “Talk to me, beautiful.” I took a deep breath but still couldn‘t find the courage to look into his eyes. “It‘s just that... after that night... I can‘t stop thinking about you.” “I‘m at work, Cora. I‘m dealing with a crisis here,” he claimed curtly. No matter how rational his words sounded, my chest squeezed painfully. “I shouldn‘t have mentioned it. I‘m sorry.” I jerked my hand away from him and grabbed the door handle, ready to leave. “Close the door.” His sudden command made me flinch. Nonetheless, I decided to ignore him and pulled the door open. “Close the fucking door!”

He didn‘t wait until I obeyed him. A second later, he slammed the door shut and claimed my lips in a passionate kiss.