Mr Noah, Our Marriage is just a contract

Chapter 6: You're not my wife!

RACHEL'S POV

Noah stepped through the front door, his sharp gaze sweeping across the spotless living room. His expression remained unreadable as he walked further inside. I braced myself, expecting at least some acknowledgment of my effort—even though I didn’t like the fact that he had put me through this—but his silence stretched on. He didn’t look pleased. If anything, he seemed almost irritated.

I swallowed my disappointment.

“The work is done,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. “I also prepared dinner. You should eat before it gets cold.”

Noah’s gaze flickered at me, cold and distant. “I’m not interested in your meals.”

His words hit like a slap. I stared at him, hoping for some sign that he was just being difficult, but he didn’t waver.

“You should quit acting like my wife,” he continued, shrugging out of his suit jacket. “There’s no need for it.”

“But I am your wife. I got married to you…”

“Is it hard for you to comprehend simple instructions?” he suddenly yelled at me, which honestly took me by surprise as I stepped back instantly.

“Just because I married you does not mean you should take it seriously or traditionally. I do not need your fake acts. You can put them on when we are in public, do you understand? Just stick to the rules and that is all.”

My fingers curled at my sides. I knew what I had signed up for, but hearing him say it so bluntly still stung. I forced a weak smile, pretending his words didn’t bother me.

“Right,” I murmured. “Of course. I’m sorry to bother you.”

Noah didn’t say anything else. He walked past me, his presence overwhelming even as he moved further away. The sound of his retreating footsteps echoed through the quiet house. When the door to his room clicked shut, I finally allowed myself to exhale.

A lump formed in my throat as I turned away.

I should’ve known better than to expect anything from him. I should’ve learned by now. What was I even thinking or expecting?

He was my boss.

I retreated to my own room, shutting the door behind me as I climbed onto the bed. Hugging the pillow close, I pressed my face against it, willing myself not to feel so miserable. But the loneliness crept in anyway. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to chase away the ache in my chest, but it lingered, heavy and suffocating.

. . .

The next morning, I woke up groggy, the lack of sleep weighing me down. My body protested as I forced myself out of bed. I went through the motions of getting ready—brushing my hair, putting on my work clothes, and applying light makeup to conceal the tired shadows beneath my eyes. I moved on autopilot, my mind still replaying last night’s events.

As I stepped out of my room, I found Noah already in the living room, fixing his cufflinks. He barely spared me a glance before speaking.

“Our relationship is meant to be a secret,” he reminded me, his voice sharp. “Do not tell anyone about it.”

I clenched my jaw but nodded. “I understand.”

“If you repeat what you did before, you’ll have yourself to blame.”

I flinched, but I didn’t let him see it. I just tightened my grip on my bag and exhaled through my nose.

“At work, you are nothing but an employee to me,” he continued. “Keep it that way.”

His words settled like a weight on my chest, but I kept my expression neutral. “Understood.”

“If I have any more instructions, I will let you know.”

“Noted.” My responses were monotonous, and I intentionally made them that way. I considered it a waste of time trying to appeal to him.

Noah studied me for a second longer before turning on his heel and heading for the door. He left without another word.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Even after he was gone, the tension lingered in the air. I ran a hand down my face, trying to shake off the frustration bubbling beneath my skin. I should have been used to this by now, but it still gnawed at me every time he talked down to me like I was nothing.

A moment later, I gathered myself. I made sure that he had left before I stepped outside. The morning air was crisp, doing little to ease the tightness in my chest.

Even though he had fancy cars for transportation, I was sure I wouldn't be privileged to enter any of them anytime soon. A cab stopped in front of the gate after I flagged it down, and I slid into the backseat, giving the driver directions to my workplace. As the car pulled into traffic, I leaned against the window, staring blankly at the passing buildings.

My phone vibrated in my lap, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen.

A message from my sister.

[Dad wants to see you. Drop by at the hospital when you’re free.]

I stared at the message, my stomach twisting. My fingers tightened around the phone as conflicting emotions flooded my mind.

What did he want now?

I had not really gone to see him after I managed to pay for his surgery. It was kind of complicated for me, knowing that he would ask how I was able to get the money.

Memories of past disappointments clouded my mind, but I shoved them away. Whatever it was, I would deal with it. Just like I always did.

I took a deep breath and typed a quick response.

[Okay. I’ll come by after work.]

As I hit send, I leaned back against the seat, exhaustion seeping into my bones. Today was already shaping up to be a long day, and it had barely even started.