A CONTRACT MARRIAGE WITH MR. ADRIAN

Nadia’s POV I never thought my marriage with my best friend would turn out this bad. Five years ago, I got married to the love of my life, Damien, but few months into our marriage, he changed drastically. Today marked our fifth wedding anniversary, and despite everything—the cold shoulders, the harsh words, the way he looked at me like I was a burden—I wanted to try one more time. Maybe today we could find our way back to who we used to be. I spent the entire afternoon preparing his favorite meal, lighting candles throughout our home, and slipping into the red dress he once said made me look beautiful. That was before the compliments stopped, before he started treating me like a stranger in my own home. My hands trembled as I set the table with our wedding china, the delicate pieces we’d received as gifts but never used. Tonight felt important, like a last chance to salvage what we’d lost. I kept checking my reflection in the hallway mirror, smoothing down my hair, hoping he’d notice the effort I’d put in. When I heard his car pull into the driveway, my heart hammered against my ribs. I positioned myself by the door, ready to greet him with the smile I’d been practicing all day. “Surprise!” I called out as he walked in, gesturing toward the candlelit dining room. “Happy anniversary, Damien.” He froze in the doorway, his expression shifting from surprise to something that looked almost like guilt. “Nadia, I… I forgot.” The words hit me like a physical blow, but I forced my smile to stay in place. “It’s okay. I thought we could have a quiet dinner together, just the two of us. Like we used to.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, avoiding my eyes. “I can’t tonight. I have… work things to handle.” “On our anniversary?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. “Yes, Nadia. Some of us have important responsibilities.” His voice carried that familiar irritation that had become his default tone with me. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Of course. I understand. Maybe we could—” “I’ll be late. Don’t wait up.” He was already heading toward the stairs, dismissing me. I watched him disappear upstairs, listened to his footsteps in our bedroom, heard the shower turn on. When he came back down twenty minutes later, he was dressed in his best suit, the one he’d worn to our wedding, smelling of the cologne I’d bought him last Christmas. “You look nice,” I said softly, one last attempt at connection. He paused at the door, his hand on the handle. For a moment, I thought he might say something kind. Instead, he said, “Clean this up before I get back,” gesturing dismissively at the romantic dinner I’d prepared, and walked out. I stood there for a long time after his car pulled away, staring at the candles and the untouched meal. The silence in the house felt deafening. Five years of marriage, and this was what we’d become—strangers living under the same roof. But something inside me refused to give up completely. Maybe he really did have work obligations. Maybe if I waited up for him, we could still salvage something from this evening, he’d apologize, and we could talk about what had gone wrong between us. So I waited. I cleaned up the dining room as he’d demanded. Eleven o’clock became midnight. Midnight became one in the morning. My eyelids grew heavy, but I fought sleep, determined to be awake when he returned. I must have dozed off anyway, because the sound of his key in the lock startled me awake. I checked my phone—2:47 AM. “Damien?” I called softly, sitting up and smoothing my hair. No answer. I heard his footsteps on the stairs, slow like he was trying not to wake me. Part of me wanted to go to him, but something held me back. I stayed on the couch, listening to him move around upstairs, hearing the bedroom door close. It wasn’t until I was drifting back to sleep that I heard something that made my blood run cold. Soft, feminine laughter that definitely wasn’t coming from the television. My eyes snapped open, and I sat up, straining to listen. There it was again, a woman’s voice, followed by Damien’s low murmur. My heart started racing as I crept toward the stairs. The sounds were coming from our bedroom. I climbed the stairs slowly. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, I could see shadows from the bedside lamp. What I saw when I reached the door destroyed everything I thought I knew about my life. Damien was in our bed with another woman. Her long dark hair was spread across my pillow, her back arched as he kissed her neck. They moved together with an intimacy I hadn’t experienced with my own husband in over two years. But it was when she turned her head, when I saw her face clearly, that my world truly shattered. It was Elena. My own sister, in my bed, with my husband, on our wedding anniversary. I must have made a sound because they both froze. Damien’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting mine across the room. For a moment, nobody moved. Elena sat up slowly, pulling the sheet up to cover herself, but making no real effort to hide what they’d been doing. Her expression wasn’t shocked or guilty. It was almost like she was glad I’d finally caught them. “Nadia,” Damien said, and his voice held no surprise. I stood there, frozen in the doorway, trying to process what I was seeing. “How long?” The words came out as barely a whisper. Elena answered before Damien could. “Four years.” Four years of lies, of me trying desperately to fix a marriage that was already broken, of believing I wasn’t enough for my own husband. “Get out,” I said, my voice stronger now. “Nadia, let me explain…” Damien started to say. “GET OUT!” I screamed, my voice echoing. “Both of you, get out of my house!” Elena slipped out of bed, completely unbothered by her nakedness. “You should know,” she said as she pulled on her dress, “he never loved you the way he loves me. He told me on your wedding day that he was making a mistake, but it was too late to call it off.” The cruelty of her words hit me harder than seeing them together had. This wasn’t just about s*x. This was about my entire marriage being a lie from the very beginning. I turned and walked away before I could hear whatever Damien might say in response. I made it to the guest bathroom before I collapsed, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. Five years of my life, wasted on a man who had never wanted me. I don’t know how long I sat there on the cold tile floor. Eventually, I heard the front door slam shut, followed by the sound of Damien’s car starting up. I picked myself up and walked back to my bedroom. My phone buzzed with a text message. Damien: We need to talk tomorrow. I’ll be back in the evening. I stared at the message for a long time. No apology. No explanation. I typed back: There’s nothing to talk about. His response came immediately: There’s a lot you don’t understand. Things are complicated. Complicated? I wanted to scream. But I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned off my phone and slept off. —————— Four days passed after the incident and Damien never came home till now. “We need to talk. Elena’s here. She’s waiting in the living room.” He said it calmly, but I stood frozen for a moment before I tried to remain myself. I followed him into the living room, where Elena sat. They both sat together while I sat opposite them like the intruder. “We won’t take much of your time, as we only came here to let you know the bigger truth.” “We all know we have both been married for years now and you’ve not been able to conceive. Elena is carrying our baby. She’s pregnant.” Damien smiled, placing his hands on her stomach.