Vow of Convenience

Ch. 6

LEVI DEL CAMPA

When I woke up, my skull throbbed as if I'd been hit with a bat. The hangover was bad enough, but what really made me feel sick was the sight of Zesa lying beside me. I stared at her, trying to piece together why she was there. And then it hit me, the memory crashing in. I came home drunk, ran my mouth like an i***t, and somehow ended up kissing her. I could still feel the heat of her body against mine, her breasts pressed into my chest, my hands gripping her waist, almost losing control. She told me she loved me, kissed me again, and then... darkness. I must’ve blacked out. She probably put me on the couch after.

But that wasn’t the issue. The kiss was. It lingered like a bad decision, making me rush through getting dressed for work, hoping to avoid her. How was I supposed to look her in the eye after last night? I didn’t love her—not even close. The thought made my chest tighten in a way that wasn’t love, more like panic. Yet, of course, the universe wasn’t on my side. She woke up.

When she looked at me, I knew she was waiting to see if I remembered. I pretended I didn’t. Better for her to think it was just a drunken blur. It wasn’t that I wanted to hurt her; I just didn’t want her to cling to something that wasn’t real. The last thing I needed was her getting the wrong idea.

My plans for the day went sideways when the guy I was supposed to meet canceled. So, I asked her what she wanted to do. Shopping, of all things. I hated shopping. Nina had made it unbearable, dragging me through endless aisles, never satisfied. But Zesa, surprisingly, wasn’t like that. She knew what she wanted. She’d pick a dress, and I’d give my honest opinion—playing the part of a couple like we’d agreed. And each time I told her what I thought, I could see the small, secret pleasure it gave her, though she did her best to hide it. It was easier this way, pretending her feelings didn’t matter.

Sitting at the café later, something felt off. I noticed she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. She always wore it, despite the fact our marriage was fake.

“Your ring,” I said, pointing to her bare finger. “Why aren’t you wearing it?”

She pressed her lips together, a tension building in the air. “Because I realized I’ve been deluding myself.”

Deluding herself? “What do you mean?”

“You don’t love me, Levi. And we’re not really married. So I decided, unless we’re playing nice for the press, I’m done wearing it.”

I took a slow sip of coffee. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

The businesswoman in her was gone, replaced by someone more vulnerable. She fumbled with her fingers, not looking at me. “If we’d met under different circumstances, do you think... you would’ve liked me?”

I checked my watch, already over this conversation. “Maybe.”

I stood, signaling it was time to go. As we walked toward the car, she suddenly stopped. I followed her gaze and saw a homeless woman cradling a child. Before I could say anything, Zesa had already made her way over, crouching in front of the woman.

“Hi,” she said gently, like this was the most normal thing in the world. “What’s your name?”

“Louryn,” the woman answered, clutching her child closer.

“I’m Zesa. How long have you been out here?”

“Seven months.”

Seven months, with a baby. I watched as Zesa reached into her bag and handed over her card. “I can’t just leave you out here. If you’re willing, I can help you and your child.”

Louryn hesitated. “I don’t know you. How can I trust you?”

“You can trust me. I’m not a bad person.” Zesa pulled out her phone, scrolling through something before showing it to the woman. “I own Techya. I know that probably doesn’t mean much to you, but if you change your mind, you can call me.”

Louryn’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “I can call you?”

“Yes.” Then she pulled out some cash, pressing it into the woman’s hand. “For now, get something for you and your baby. I hope to hear from you soon.”

“Thank you... so much,” Louryn whispered, tears spilling over. “You don’t know how much this means. God bless you.”

Zesa walked back to me, practically glowing with happiness, her arm looping through mine as if we were a real couple. “I feel so good right now,” she said, resting her head on my arm. “Helping people like that... it makes me feel alive.”

She was a puzzle. One minute, selfish to the core; the next, acting like some kind of saint.

“By the way, we need to visit Hope World Orphanage soon,” she added, her eyes lighting up as she changed the subject.

On the drive home, she wouldn’t stop talking about Louryn, about rules she thought everyone should follow.

“One rule,” she said, turning toward me in the passenger seat, “if you see a woman stealing baby formula or sanitary products, you pretend you didn’t see it.”

“Stealing is still a crime,” I pointed out.

“Saving a baby’s life shouldn’t be. And no one should have to steal sanitary products. Those should be free. I’m going to do something about it.”

I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person she really was.

Back home, she threw herself on the couch, phone ringing. The moment she saw the name, her smile vanished. “What do you want, Finn?”

Finn Giovanni. Her only real friend, as far as I knew. Their conversation was clipped, and I didn’t care to listen to the details. I headed upstairs with the shopping bags, stripping off my shirt and looking for ibuprofen to kill the lingering headache. But instead of pills, I found pictures—me and Nina, together, at the restaurant, walking down the street, holding hands.

“Levi?” I turned to see Zesa standing in the doorway.

“Why do you have these?” I demanded, holding up the photos.

She averted her eyes. “I forgot to throw them away.”

“Forgot? Or are you stalking me now?”

Her gaze darkened. “I had to know what my husband was doing, making out with another woman while we’re still married. Is it so wrong to want to know what you’ve been up to?”

“You had no right—”

“You gave me no choice!” she snapped, stepping closer. “I didn’t ask for this marriage either. But you’re the one who made me feel like I had to watch your every move.”

I threw the pictures down, the tension crackling between us. “I never wanted to be your husband.”

“Then divorce me!” Her voice was raw, inches from me now, anger flaring in her eyes. “Why are you still here? You’re only staying for the money, aren’t you?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“So are you,” she whispered bitterly. She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her, her parting words echoing up the stairs.

I exhaled sharply, the water from the shower doing nothing to cool the burn of her accusations. She had a way of getting under my skin like no one else. But when I stepped out, dripping and ready to leave the mess of her behind, there she was again, standing at the foot of the bed, keys clenched in her hand, panting like she’d run a marathon.

“Why?” she demanded.

“Why what?”

“Why can’t you love me?”

I stared at her, exasperated. “I don’t know.”

“No,” she stepped closer, refusing to back down. “There has to be a reason. Tell me why.”

I sighed, eyes locking with hers. “Because you’re you, Zesa. You’re clingy, obsessive, and selfish. You act like the world revolves around you. You want everyone to think you’re so selfless, but you’re the most selfish person I know.”

“Are you any different?” she shot back, her voice trembling with barely concealed rage. “For months, it’s been all about you. Even after we got married, it was still all about you. You went out with Nina, while I waited up, knowing you wouldn’t come back until the next day. Did you ever think about me, even once?”

I had no answer.

“So don’t you dare call me selfish.” Her voice broke, but she stood her ground. “I’ll keep my distance from you. You don’t have to pretend to be nice anymore. We’ll live together until the contract’s done, but that’s it. Think of it as my last kindness to you.”

And with that, she left. Again. This time, the door didn’t just slam shut behind her. It left a hollow ache in its wake, one I couldn’t explain.

Why the hell did it hurt?