The Billionaire's Contract Bride

Chapter 17

Sarah's POV

I had changed into my nightgown early and was already under the covers when Adrian finally entered. He moved with his usual quiet mood, unbuttoning his shirt without looking at me at first.

I waited until he climbed into bed before speaking, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Adrian,” I said softly, sitting up against the pillows. “Can we talk? Please.”

He paused, adjusting his pillow. “Talk? What should we talk about?”

I turned toward him, pulling the duvet closer to my chest like a shield. “It's about mother,” I said. My eyes were still swollen from the tears I had shed earlier in the sitting room. “The way she treats me. It’s getting harder to bear. Every day, it feels like I'm living miserably. I'm tired. Please… help me talk to her. I beg you.”

Adrian sighed softly. “Sarah, she’s only trying to help you adjust. You know that.”

“Help?” My voice cracked. “She speaks to me like I’m a child who keeps embarrassing the family. Always say all types of words to me. Today, she removed me from the project without even discussing it with me first. It would have been better if I had someone by my side. But there's nobody to help me here. So please help me tell her to at least reduce the way she treats me.”

Adrian turned onto his side to face me. “Sarah. I don't like the way you see my mom as someone who has you in mind. She's trying to teach you. She’s protective of the family name. You have to understand her perspective. She’s guided this household for decades. Her standards are high and that's why it's looking like she is treating you badly. Just calm down, you will come over it one day.”

I felt fresh tears rising. “Her standards are hurting me, can't you see? Are you happy to see me complaining everyday? At least try and do something. Do you want me to continue like this? I'm losing my mind! Even when I try to be perfect, listen to her, act the way she wants, do everything she wants, it's never enough. There’s always another correction. Another mistake!”

He reached over and rested a hand on my arm. “You’re being sensitive, Sarah. Mother doesn’t dislike you. She’s invested in your success here. Remember how she helped with the gala seating? The gala wouldn't have been successful without her. The way you dressed was because of her. She wants you to stand out!”

“Stand out?” I whispered, a tear slipping down my cheek. “She wants me to stand out. To become a polished version of myself with no opinions, no dreams, no voice? She treats me like a project that keeps failing inspection. And you... you always defend her. ‘Mother means well.’ ‘She’s trying to help.’ What about what I need? What about how it feels to live under constant judgment?”

Adrian’s jaw tightened slightly. “I do defend her because she’s usually right about these things. The transition hasn’t been easy for you, I know. But fighting her will only make it harder. She wants what’s best for our family. For us.”

I sat up slowly, hugging my knees to my chest. The silk nightgown felt cold against my skin. “Best for the family or best for controlling me? She's always controlling me. She questions every friend I try to see, even my family. She makes me feel ashamed for wanting to grieve or create or simply breathe outside these walls. Today, when Carla was leaving and Eleanor told me I was removed... The look on her face wasn’t disappointing. It was satisfying. Like she’d been waiting for a reason to put me back in my place.”

Adrian exhaled, rubbing his forehead. “You’re reading too much into it. She’s like that because she has to be. The world watches us. One misstep reflects on all of us. You knew life would be different when you married me.”

“I knew it would be different,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “But I never knew it would be this worse. From one issue to another. The way I dress, act, walk. Everything is a problem to her. I’m not allowed to be the person I want to be. I’m not allowed to meet old friends or families. I’m only allowed to be what she molds me into. And you let her.”

The silence stretched between us. Adrian stared at the ceiling for a long moment before replying.

“Mother has her ways, yes. She can be sharp. But she’s family. She helped raise me. Her methods may feel harsh, but they come from experience. You need to trust the process, Sarah. Lean into the role instead of resisting it. That’s how you’ll find peace here.”

I looked at him, searching for any real warmth or understanding. There was concern in his eyes, but it was distant. Detached. Like he was managing an employee’s complaint rather than comforting his wife.

“I’m trying, Adrian,” I whispered. “But every time I try, she reminds me I’m not enough. And you stand beside her. What does that say about how you see me? Well… I'm not supposed to complain. You married me for a contract anyway.”

He reached over again, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I see you as my wife. The woman I chose. But this marriage requires compromise. Mother’s guidance is part of that. Give it time. You’ll adjust.”

I turned away from him, curling onto my side. Tears soaked silently into the pillow as his breathing gradually deepened into sleep. The conversation had gone exactly as I imagined. Eleanor is always right. I'm the one overreacting.

I lay awake long after Adrian had fallen asleep, the double-minded ache returning. Part of me wanted to keep trying, to be the perfect wife, to earn Eleanor’s approval and find safety in the cage. Another part whispered that I couldn’t keep shrinking forever without losing myself completely.