The Contract That Became Forever

DINNER

CHAPTER 7

A week passed.

Ethan and Sophia fell into a routine. Hospital in the morning. Home by 6. Dinner at 7. Silence.

But tonight was different.

Sophia came downstairs and the dining room smelled like food. Real food. Not the chef.

Ethan was at the stove. In sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hair was damp like he’d just showered.

Sophia stopped in the doorway. "What are you doing?"

Ethan didn’t turn around. "Cooking."

"You cook?"

"I lived alone for 10 years," Ethan said. He plated pasta. "Before the chef."

He set two plates on the table. Closer together than usual. Only one chair between them.

"Sit," he said.

Sophia sat. The pasta was good. Better than good.

"Did you learn this for someone?" Sophia asked before she could stop herself.

Ethan paused. "My mom. She was sick when I was in college. I cooked for her."

Sophia’s chest hurt. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t be," Ethan said. "She’d like you."

The words hung there.

Sophia looked up. "What?"

Ethan was staring at his plate. "Nothing. Eat."

After dinner, they didn’t go to separate rooms.

Ethan went to the living room and turned on the TV. Not the news. A movie.

He patted the seat next to him. "Come on."

Sophia hesitated. Then sat. Two cushions between them.

Halfway through the movie, Sophia fell asleep.

She woke up to a blanket over her and Ethan carrying her upstairs.

"Put me down," she mumbled.

"I’ve got you," Ethan murmured.

He laid her in bed and pulled the blanket up.

Sophia caught his wrist before he could leave. "Ethan?"

He stopped. "Yeah?"

"Why are you being nice to me?"

Ethan looked at her hand on his wrist. Then at her face.

"Because," he said quietly. "Maybe I’m tired of pretending I don’t care."

Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Sophia stared at the ceiling, heart pounding.

Six months.

No feelings.

That was the deal.

But deals were made to be broken.