Hating You Was My Full Time Job

CHAPTER 12: 6 MONTHS LATER

6 months.

180 days.

4320 hours.

25,920 minutes.

That’s how long it took for a fake marriage to feel real.

The penthouse didn’t feel like a hotel anymore. It felt like home.

My clothes were in Adrian’s closet. His suits on one side, my dresses on the other.

My coffee mug was in his cabinet. The one that said "World’s Okayest Wife" that I bought as a joke in month 3.

My toothbrush was next to his. Two shades of blue.

There was a photo of us on the fridge. From the hospital charity gala last month. We weren’t posing. I was laughing at something he said. He was looking at me, not the camera.

We stopped pretending around month 2.

We stopped fighting around month 3.

We started falling around month 4.

And by month 5, we weren’t acting for cameras anymore. We forgot the cameras were there.

"Morning, Mrs. Blackwood." Adrian’s voice from the kitchen. Warm. Teasing.

I walked in barefoot. Wearing his t-shirt. No bra. Hair a mess. No makeup.

"Morning, Mr. Blackwood."

He was making coffee. Our coffee. The one he taught me to make that first week when I almost blew up the $20,000 machine.

He handed me the mug. His fingers lingered on mine.

*Rule #1: We rewrote it.* _Touching is mandatory._

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"With you? Always."

The words came out easy. Too easy. 6 months ago I would’ve choked on them.

Adrian leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee. Gray sweatpants. Black t-shirt. Hair still wet.

He looked at me like I was the only thing in the room. Like he had since month 4.

"Board meeting today," Adrian said. "You ready?"

"To tell 12 old men we’re happy? Yes."

"Are we?"

I smiled. "Yes."

We were. God help me, we were.

*9:30 AM: Getting Ready*

The stylist team came at 9. As always.

"Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood," the head stylist said. "For today we were thinking power couple. Navy for him, blush for you."

I let them do my hair. Let them do my makeup.

6 months ago I felt like a doll. Today I felt like a partner.

Adrian came in while they were finishing my lipstick.

He stopped in the doorway. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you."

"Not because you have to say it," I added.

"I know," Adrian said. "Because I mean it."

The stylists all pretended not to hear. But I saw them smile.

*10 AM: BlackCorp Headquarters*

The headlines now:

*POWER COUPLE OF THE YEAR*

*ADRIAN AND AVA BLACKWOOD DONATE $50M TO CHILDREN’S HOSPITAL*

*ARE THEY EXPECTING? SOURCES SAY MRS. B WAS SEEN AT OBGYN*

That last one made Adrian’s jaw tick in the car.

"We’re not," he said to me. "Expecting. Unless you want to."

I looked at him. Really looked. The man who hated me 6 months ago. The man who signed a contract to buy me.

"I do," I whispered. "Want to. With you. Someday."

Adrian didn’t answer. He just took my hand and squeezed. His thumb rubbed over my wedding ring. The real one. We got it 3 months ago. Threw the contract ring in the ocean off the coast.

The boardroom was full when we walked in. 12 suits. 12 faces.

"Mr. Blackwood. Mrs. Blackwood," Whitmore said. He didn’t call me Mrs. Blackwood 6 months ago.

"Good morning," Adrian said. "What’s the agenda?"

For an hour they talked about mergers and stocks and Q4.

Through it all, Adrian’s knee was touching mine under the table. Not an accident.

"Final item," Whitmore said. "The 1 year contract is up in 6 months. The board wants to know... what’s the plan?"

The room went quiet.

Adrian looked at me. Then at them.

"The plan is we’re not going anywhere," he said. "This is my wife. We’re real. The contract is irrelevant now."

I felt tears. I blinked them back.

*3 PM: Hospital*

Mom was healthy. Thriving. She had dinner with us every Sunday now. She taught Adrian how to make jollof rice. He burned it twice.

"Ava," Mom said today as we sat in the garden. "Are you happy?"

"Yes, Mom."

"And him?"

"He’s trying," I smiled. "Every day. For me. For us."

Mom squeezed my hand. "Your father would be proud. Of you. Of the woman you became."

That made me cry. For real.

*7 PM: Charity Event*

Another gala. Another red carpet.

But this time when Adrian’s hand went to my back, it wasn’t for show.

This time when I leaned into him, it wasn’t acting.

"Adrian! Ava! Over here!"

Cameras flashed.

Vanessa was there. As always.

She walked up to us with wine in her hand.

"So," she said. "Still playing house?"

"Still married," Adrian said, arm tightening around me. "Still happy."

Vanessa’s smile dropped. "We’ll see."

She walked away.

"You okay?" Adrian asked me.

"Yeah," I said. "I’m not scared of her anymore."

*11 PM: Penthouse*

We were on the couch. Movie. Blanket. His head in my lap.

"Do you regret it?" Adrian asked. "Signing the contract?"

"Not anymore," I said, running my fingers through his hair. "I got you. And I got my mom. And I got a life I never thought I’d have."

Adrian sat up. Looked at me. Gray eyes soft. No walls.

"I got you too," he said. "And I got a second chance."

Then he kissed me. Slow. Deep. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he wasn’t afraid anymore.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

_Check the news. You’re welcome. V_

I ignored it.

But Adrian saw.

"Who is it?"

"No one. Just Vanessa being petty."

Adrian took my phone. Read the text. His face went cold.

"What did Vanessa want?"

"Nothing. Probably another fake headline."

Adrian stood up. Paced. "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About the fact that in 6 months, this contract ends. And I don’t want it to."

My heart stopped.

"What?"

"I don’t want the $5 million severance," Adrian said. "I don’t want the year to end. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want... I want to try. For real. No contract. No rules. Just us."

Tears. Real ones this time.

"Adrian"

"Say something."

"I want that too." I stood up. "I want you. The contract or no contract."

He pulled me up. Kissed my forehead. My nose. My lips.

"Then it’s settled," he whispered. "We burn the contract."

*12:01 AM: The Fireplace*

We went to his office. Adrian pulled out the original contract. 50 pages. Bound. Legal.

"This bought you," he said. "I’m sorry."

"It saved my mom," I said. "Don’t be sorry."

We put it in the fireplace. Watched it burn.

Page by page. Clause by clause.

All the rules. All the money. All the pain.

"So what are we now?" I asked as the last page turned to ash.

"Married," Adrian said. "For real this time. Not because of money. Not because of a deal. Because I choose you."

He got down on one knee. Not to propose. Just to hold my hands.

"I choose you, Ava Carter Blackwood. Every day. For the rest of my life."

I was crying too hard to answer. I just nodded.

*2 AM*

We didn’t sleep. We talked.

About the future. About kids. About the hospital. About his childhood. About my dad.

About everything we’d been avoiding for 6 months.

At some point Adrian fell asleep with his head on my shoulder.

I watched him. The billionaire. The man everyone feared.

And he looked peaceful.

My phone buzzed again. Vanessa.

_Enjoy it while it lasts. He’ll get bored. V_

I blocked her.

*7 AM: The Morning After*

I woke up to Adrian making breakfast. Pancakes. He was terrible at it.

"Morning, wife," he said.

"Morning, husband."

He walked over and kissed me. Flour on his cheek.

"So," he said. "What do we do now that we’re not contract married anymore?"

"We live," I said. "We love. We figure it out."

Adrian smiled. A real smile. Not the CEO one.

"I like that plan."

END OF CHAPTER 12