Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 55: Romance Hero

Sarah

I stab my fork into a piece of roasted potato, looking at him from under my eyelashes.

I won’t beg him to be there for his own child. If he wants to keep pushing me away, let him. I’ve spent too much time tiptoeing around his moods, too much time pretending that his words don’t cut deeper than they should. But I am not alone anymore. I am going to have a baby, and I want to be stronger.

I take a slow bite, forcing myself to chew and swallow before speaking again. "Josh has always been kind to me." I keep my tone light, casual, as if I don’t notice the way Matthew’s grip tightens around his fork. "And he doesn’t seem to mind stepping up when someone else won’t."

Matthew exhales sharply, his gaze darkening. "If you think I’m going to sit here and listen to you talk about another man, you’re sorely mistaken."

I tilt my head, feigning innocence. "Why not? You were the one who suggested I ask someone else."

His lips press into a thin line. He’s angry now, and I should stop, but something inside me won’t let me. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the months of being pushed aside, or maybe I just want to see if there’s still a part of him that gives a damn.

I set my fork down carefully. "I don’t need you to be there, Matthew," I say quietly, my voice steady. "I wanted you to be. There’s a difference."

The silence that follows feels like a physical presence between us. Matthew’s jaw flexes as he sets down his own fork loudly.

"Josh," he spits the name like it’s poison on his tongue. "He showed up at a very convenient time, didn’t he?" His laugh is hollow, scraping against the silence.

I feel heat crawl up my neck, spreading across my cheeks.

"You don’t get to do that," I whisper, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "You don’t get to treat me like you do and then act jealous when someone else shows basic human decency. You don’t get to make disgusting accusations because you can’t handle someone being nice to me."

Matthew’s eyes flash with fury. His jaw tightens, his fingers curling into fists on the table. "You think I don’t—" He cuts himself off, dragging a hand through his hair before shaking his head. "Forget it."

I let out a humorless laugh. "No. Say it. If you have something to say, say it, Matthew."

His gaze locks onto mine, intense and unyielding. "You think he will rescue you from me like some damn romance hero?"

I sigh, suddenly feeling tired. "No, Matthew. I don’t need any rescuing. You are just looking for a way to fight me now." ƒгeewebnovёl.com

His nostrils flare. "I’m not looking for a fight," he mutters.

I focus on my food. Marishka worked hard to make us this beautiful meal, and I want to enjoy it no matter what.

Matthew doesn’t say anything else, but I can feel his gaze on me, heavy and unrelenting. I refuse to look up, to give him the satisfaction of seeing whether his words rattled me. Instead, I take another slow bite, letting the flavors settle on my tongue.

The tension lingers between us, thick and suffocating. I wonder if Marishka notices—if she senses the storm brewing beneath the quiet. But when she reappears, carrying a cheesecake, her face remains warm, untouched by the hostility at the table.

"I hope you two are excited for the cheesecake," she says, setting the plates down with gentle care.

I offer her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Marishka. It looks amazing."

Matthew doesn’t respond. He just stares at his plate.

Marishka clucks her tongue, shaking her head. "No brooding at the table," she chides lightly. "Eat. Enjoy."

I pick up my fork again, cutting into the cheesecake. The rich, creamy texture melts in my mouth.

Matthew exhales sharply, picking up his fork as well. He doesn’t look at me when he finally takes a bite.

"This is delicious," I tell Marishka when she returns to check on us. Her weathered face brightens, and for a moment, I envy her simple joy in feeding others.

"Old family recipe," she says, patting my shoulder. "Good for the baby too. Calcium." She nods knowingly.

Matthew shifts in his seat. "It is very good, Marishka. You are an amazing cook."

Marishka beams at him. "Thank you!" she says before leaving the room.

I watch Matthew’s throat work as he swallows another bite of cheesecake.

"You have cheesecake crumb on your lip," he says, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

I resist the urge to lick my lips under his scrutiny. Instead, I reach for my napkin, but his grip on my wrist tightens slightly.

Before I can do anything, his free hand reaches across the table. His thumb brushes the corner of my mouth, lingering longer than necessary.

I hate how a simple touch can make my breath hitch, even when I am angry at him.

I pull back, dabbing at my mouth with my napkin instead. "Thanks," I say stiffly.

Matthew’s lips twitch, as if he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine.

My phone rings, the sudden noise slicing through the tension like a knife. I look at the screen and my heart nearly jumps.

Josh.

I hesitate for a moment, my finger hovering over the screen as Matthew watches me intently, his jaw set, his gaze darkening once more. His eyes flick to my phone, then back to me.

I could ignore it. I could turn the phone face down, pretend I didn’t hear it, and let the awkward silence return. But I don’t want to. Not tonight.

I swipe the screen, answering the call without looking away from Matthew. "Hey, Josh," I say, my voice just a little too bright.

"Hey," Josh’s voice is warm and comforting. "How’s everything going?"

"It’s... going," I reply, my words trailing off. I take a steadying breath, trying to keep the conversation light. "I’m eating, just finishing up dinner."

Matthew’s fingers drum lightly against the edge of his plate, the tension radiating from him like heat.

Josh’s voice breaks through my thoughts. "Are you okay? You seem down."

"I am fine," I say, thinking about ending the call there. But when I see Matthew glaring at me, I change my mind. "Hey, Josh. Do you mind giving me a ride somewhere tomorrow morning?" I ask.

I look at Matthew and watch him mouth the words, ’don’t you dare’ and make up my mind even more.

"Of course. Where do you need me to take you?" Josh asks, his tone kind and eager to help.

I smile slightly, despite the tension. "I have an appointment. I’ll text you the details later. Thanks, Josh."

Matthew’s eyes are burning into me now, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles have gone white. I can feel his anger rolling off of him in waves, but I refuse to back down.