Chapter 6: The Rules You Didn't Agree To
895 Words
I didn’t stay in the dining room.
I couldn’t.
The silence was too heavy, and his presence even after he left lingered like something I couldn’t shake.
So I walked.
Through hallways that didn’t feel like mine.
Past rooms I didn’t belong in.
Through a house that felt more like a statement than a home.
Everything was perfect.
Too perfect.
Like nothing here was allowed to be out of place.
Unlike me.
I slowed near a large window, staring out at the perfectly kept gardens.
Even the outside felt controlled.
Planned.
Designed.
Just like him.
“Enjoying the view?”
I froze.
His voice came from behind me.
Low.
Calm.
Too close.
I turned slowly.
Sebastian stood a few steps away, his phone no longer in his hand, his attention fully on me.
“I was just looking,” I said.
“You were thinking.”
It wasn’t a question.
I exhaled softly. “Is that a problem?”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“Just don’t lie about it.”
My chest tightened slightly.
“I wasn’t lying.”
“You were avoiding.”
His words landed too easily.
Too accurately.
I crossed my arms lightly, more for comfort than defense.
“And what if I was?”
His gaze held mine.
“Then you’re already adapting.”
The word again.
Adapt.
Like this was something I was expected to learn quickly.
“I don’t like that word,” I said.
“I didn’t expect you to.”
Of course he didn’t.
Nothing about this felt like something I was expected to like.
“You said this was an arrangement,” I continued, forcing myself to stay steady. “But it doesn’t feel like one.”
His expression didn’t change.
“What does it feel like?”
I hesitated.
Then said it anyway.
“Like I’m stepping into something I don’t understand.”
A quiet pause.
Then
“You are.”
The honesty caught me off guard.
I frowned slightly. “That doesn’t concern you?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Too easily.
“You agreed,” he continued. “Understanding isn’t required.”
Something about that made my chest tighten again.
“You’re very comfortable with control,” I said.
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“Yes.”
No denial.
No hesitation.
No apology.
I let out a breath, shaking my head slightly.
“This isn’t normal.”
“Nothing about this is.”
At least he wasn’t pretending.
I turned back toward the window, needing a second to breathe.
“To finalize the contract,” I said after a moment. “What exactly does that involve?”
Footsteps.
Closer.
Then his voice, right behind me.
“Terms. Conditions. Boundaries.”
I didn’t turn.
“And what kind of boundaries?”
A pause.
Then,
“The kind you don’t cross.”
A chill ran down my spine.
I turned slowly, meeting his eyes again.
“And if I do?”
For the first time,
There was a shift.
Subtle.
But there.
“Then we have a problem.”
The words weren’t loud.
They didn’t need to be.
I held his gaze, refusing to look away.
“You’re not exactly making this easy.”
“I’m not trying to.”
Of course he wasn’t.
Because for him
This wasn’t difficult.
This wasn’t emotional.
This wasn’t complicated.
This was… decision.
And everything after that simply followed.
“I need to know something,” I said.
He didn’t move.
“Ask.”
“Why now?”
The question hung between us.
“He’s been with me for three years,” I continued. “You said you’ve known about me for a long time.”
His eyes didn’t waver.
“So why now?”
A pause.
Longer this time.
Something unreadable passed through his expression.
Then,
“Because now it matters.”
That was it.
No explanation.
No detail.
Just enough to make my chest tighten.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t need to.”
Frustration flickered through me again.
“You expect me to just accept that?”
“Yes.”
Of course he did.
I let out a small, disbelieving breath.
“You’re impossible.”
“And you said yes.”
That stopped me.
Because he was right.
Again.
I had said yes.
I had stepped into this.
Whatever this was.
“I can still walk away,” I said quietly.
His gaze held mine.
“Yes.”
A beat.
“But you won’t.”
My heart skipped.
The certainty in his voice.
The confidence
It unsettled me more than anything else.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Silence stretched between us.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
And somewhere in that silence
I realized something I didn’t want to admit.
He wasn’t guessing.
He wasn’t hoping.
He knew.
Because deep down,
He understood something I was still trying to deny.
I didn’t have a better option.
My throat tightened slightly.
“This isn’t freedom,” I said quietly.
“No.”
The honesty came too easily.
“It’s not.”
My chest rose slowly with a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Then what is it?”
This time
He didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes held mine.
Steady.
Unmoving.
Then
“It’s a choice,” he said quietly.
A pause.
“One you already made.”
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