Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 106: Is This Goodbye?

Sarah

His lips capture mine in a deep, slow kiss as his body covers mine. I feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, and I part my legs instinctively, inviting him closer. Matthew moves between them, his eyes never leaving mine as he positions himself.

"Sarah," he whispers against my lips as he pushes inside me, joining us completely.

I gasp at the sensation, my hands gripping his shoulders. He stays still for a moment, then begins to move, slow and deliberate thrusts that make me moan with each one. My legs wrap around his waist, drawing him deeper. His rhythm is unhurried and passionate, like he’s savoring every second of our connection.

"Sarah," he breathes, kissing along my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. "My Sarah."

I arch beneath him, meeting his movements, my fingers tangling in his hair as pleasure builds within me. Matthew’s pace quickens slightly, his breathing growing ragged against my ear. I can feel myself approaching the edge again, my body tightening around him.

"Let go," he urges, his voice thick with desire. "Come for me."

I shatter beneath him, waves of pleasure rippling through my entire body. Matthew follows moments later, his face buried in my neck as he groans my name. We stay connected, breathing heavily, our sweat-slicked bodies pressed together.

Why did this kind of feel like he was saying goodbye to me?

Is he saying goodbye?

No, it can’t be. Everything is fine between us now. He hadn’t forgiven me entirely, but he told me he didn’t hate me anymore. I am having his baby, so he won’t leave me now. He will stay with me to work things out, won’t he?

The rush of thoughts lodges in my chest, cold and sharp. His strange behavior, the secretive phone calls, and the intensity of this moment all swirl together into something that feels dangerously like an ending.

"Matthew," I whisper against his lips as he moves inside me. "Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?"

"Nothing’s wrong," he murmurs, kissing away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. "Everything is perfect."

But I can’t shake the feeling that something is slipping away from me.

Afterward, he holds me close, my back against his chest. I should feel content, but anxiety gnaws at me.

"You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?" I ask quietly. freewēbnoveℓ.com

I feel him tense slightly behind me. "Of course," he says after a brief pause. "Stop worrying so much and go to sleep."

I close my eyes.

I must’ve been more tired than I thought because when I opened my eyes next, it was already morning.

I stretch languidly, feeling the warm Aruban sunlight streaming through the partially open curtains. Matthew isn’t beside me, but I hear him moving around in the suite. The digital clock reads 9:30 AM.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Matthew says, appearing in the doorway with a cup of steaming coffee. His smile seems more relaxed today, the strange tension from yesterday gone.

"Hi," I say, sitting up and adjusting the sheet around me. "You let me sleep in."

"You needed it." He hands me the coffee and sits on the edge of the bed. "I’ve made some plans for you today."

I take a sip, eyeing him over the rim of the cup. "What kind of plans?"

"Well," he says, running his hand through his hair, "I made you a special appointment at the resort spa. Hair, makeup, the works. I thought you might enjoy being pampered."

I raise an eyebrow. "Hair and makeup? Are we going somewhere fancy?"

He shrugs, trying to look casual but failing miserably. "Something like that."

"Matthew," I say slowly, "what are you up to?"

"Nothing," he insists, but his eyes gleam with something secretive. "Your appointment is at eleven. That gives you time for breakfast and a walk on the beach if you want."

I narrow my eyes at him, but he just leans forward to kiss my forehead before standing up.

"I have a few things to take care of this morning," he says. "But I’ll meet you after your spa treatment, around two o’clock."

"Things to take care of? On vacation?" I question.

"Just some... arrangements." He smiles mysteriously. "Trust me, okay?"

I sigh, nodding. "Okay."

At eleven, I make my way to the resort spa, where I’m greeted by a smiling attendant.

"Ms. Wilson! We’ve been expecting you," she chirps.

I raise my eyebrow. "It’s Mrs. Jameson now. Wilson is my maiden name. Isn’t that what my name listed as Sarah Jameson for the appointment?"

She shakes her head. "Well, Mr. Jameson made the appointment for you as Sarah Wilson. But please, follow me."

Oh, god. What does this mean? Is this Matthew’s way of telling me he wants a divorce!?

But why now?

I shake my head. No, I am being silly. Why would he bring me all the way to Aruba to tell me he wants to leave me?

I’m led through the luxurious spa to a private suite where three staff members wait.

The next three hours go by in a blur of relaxation and beauty treatments.

The stylist works magic with my long hair, creating soft waves that frame my face perfectly. Then comes the makeup.

"You are a very lucky woman. Your husband must love you so much," the makeup artist says as she adds the final touches to my blush.

I freeze.

Love...it’s hard to tell. I can feel love through his actions these past few days, but he hadn’t exactly uttered those words to me, so I didn’t exactly feel reassured.

"I guess he does," I respond with a small smile, my mind still racing with uncertainty.

When the treatments are complete, I barely recognize the woman in the mirror. My skin glows, my hair falls in perfect waves, and my makeup is flawless yet natural. I look like I’m ready for something important, much more than a casual dinner at the resort.

"One more thing," the makeup artist says, handing me a small envelope. "Mr. Jameson asked us to give you this when you’re done."

I open it with slightly trembling fingers and find a handwritten note inside:

*Go back to our suite. Something’s waiting for you. - Matthew*

My heart pounds as I make my way back through the resort. What could he possibly be planning? The walk feels endless, my mind spinning scenarios ranging from wonderful to heartbreaking.

I slide the keycard into our suite door and push it open slowly. The room is empty, but there’s soft music playing. I step further inside and that’s when I see it.

I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.

My wedding dress, the one I wore when I married Matthew is hanging on the wardrobe door.

"What is this?" I whisper to the empty room, moving closer.

I touch the smooth satin fabric with my fingers. How is this even possible? Matthew destroyed this dress on our wedding night when he angrily tore it off my body. This must be a duplicate.

With shaking hands, I open the second envelope:

*Put it on. Meet me at the beach gazebo at 4:00. - Your husband*

Tears spring to my eyes as understanding begins to dawn. This isn’t an ending. It’s a beginning.