Bound To The Man I Hated

Denial

I avoided him the next morning.

Not intentionally.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

I stayed in my room longer than necessary. Took my time getting dressed. When I finally stepped out, the house was empty.

Good.

I didn’t want to talk about last night.

Didn’t want to analyze why my heart had raced when he said my wife.

Didn’t want to admit that his presence had felt… safe.

I was pouring coffee when he walked in.

Suit. Calm expression. Same controlled Ethan.

“You’re up early,” he said.

“So are you,” I replied, not looking at him.

Silence.

Then, “About last night—”

“It meant nothing,” I cut in quickly.

He paused.

“I didn’t ask what it meant.”

I finally met his eyes. “You showed up. You stepped in. That’s it. Let’s not turn it into something it’s not.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “And what is it not?”

I set the mug down. “Anything personal.”

For a moment, I thought he might argue.

Instead, he nodded once. “Fine.”

Relief washed through me. Too much relief.

“We stick to the rules,” he continued. “No confusion.”

“Yes,” I said. “Exactly.”

He picked up his keys. “Good. Because this marriage only works if we don’t pretend it’s something else.”

The door closed behind him.

I stood there, staring at nothing.

Only then did I realize my hands were shaking.

Because I wasn’t afraid of breaking the rules anymore.

I was afraid they already were.