Contract Marriage: I’ve Always Loved You

After a few months,

Eight months and seventeen days have passed since I last saw, touched, and felt Grace’s presence. Each day, the ache of missing her has deepened, and not a single moment has gone by without longing for her.

I remain oblivious to her whereabouts and well-being because when my father informed Grace’s father about our contract marriage; he cast her out of his house.

She even stopped posting her blogs. Every day, I offer silent prayers, hoping she’s safe and that our paths will cross again.

If fate allows our paths to cross once more, I’m determined not to let her slip away and to make things work between us.

Yeah. This time, I’m willing to take a few extra steps because being apart from her for eight months made me realise where I went wrong. In a relationship, it’s not always about giving 50-50. It can be 60-40 or even 70-30. What really matters is who we are and where we both stand. That’s what counts in the end.

I have come to London for a business project, and my intuition whispers that our paths might collide here-the moment I’ve yearned for since our separation.

Lost in thoughts, I sit in the backseat of a car, staring out of the window. Suddenly, my phone rings, jolting me from my reverie. It’s my father on the line.

After taking a deep breath, I answer, “Hey, Dad.”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

He inquires about my meeting, and I reply in a detached tone because my mind has been consumed with thoughts of Grace since I arrived in London.

Suddenly, his tone changes, sensing my distraction. “I’m sorry, son, because of me, you’re suffering. I forced you into marrying Grace, and now you can’t get her out of your mind. That woman, I want to kill her,”

My heart sinks, listening to his words, and I immediately interrupt him because I can’t hear anything negative about Grace. I just can’t. “Dad, please, stop blaming yourself and her. It’s my fault because the final decision was mine to marry her. I’m suffering because of my choices.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and I can sense him processing my words. “Son, I just hate seeing you go through this. It’s hard for a father to witness his child in pain.”

“I appreciate your concern, Dad. I’m dealing with it the best I can. Blaming Grace or anyone won’t change the past. What’s done is done,” I respond, trying to reassure him. I understand his perspective completely.

He expresses regret once more, sighing. “I wish I could undo the choices that led to this mess, Steve.”

“It’s a learning experience for both of us, Dad. We’ll find a way through it,” I say, trying to uplift his spirits.

Before ending the call, he expresses a last apology. “I hope you find peace, Steve. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

My peace belongs to her, Dad. To Grace… my Grace. I want to tell him that so much, but I hold back.

When she was by my side, I felt like she was disrupting my peace. But now that she’s not with me, I realise that she was the only peace I truly yearned for.

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll figure it out. Take care.” I end the call, letting out a sigh.

Then I stare out of the car window again, wondering if fate will bring Grace back into my life.

***

Jace’s P. O. V.

After eight months, I wake up to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains. I disentangle myself from Zara’s arms after kissing her forehead.

After getting fresh, I keep a bouquet of her favourite flowers on the bedside table, a small gesture to brighten her morning.

I settle down beside her and admire her sleeping form.

As she wakes up, a small smile spreads across her face, seeing the bouquet.

“Good morning, love,” I whisper, pressing a gentle kiss on her cheek. She responds with a faint smile, but there’s a lingering sadness in her eyes.

A few months ago, something occurred that completely transformed her. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to reach the core of her emotions. It’s like she’s closed off from the world.

I hold her hand, my thumb tracing circles on it. “Hey, baby, let’s start fresh and leave the past behind us. Today is a new day.”

She looks at me, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Jace, I’m trying hard, but it’s not happening.”

I nod, keeping my gaze locked with hers. “You don’t have to face it alone, baby. We’re in this together, and I’m here to support you every step of the way.”

She takes a deep breath, her fingers gently squeezing mine. “I know, Jace. It’s just challenging to confront these emotions. But having you by my side makes it a little easier.”

I pull her into a comforting embrace, whispering words of support. “I’m always with you, baby. Just remember, the past doesn’t define us; it’s the love and strength we share that matter.”

As we pull apart, I suggest, “Let’s take a shower together.”

She looks at me with a hint of surprise, and a small smile tugs at her lips. “Sure, husband, a shower sounds nice.”

After taking out the handcuffs from the drawer, I suddenly lift her in my arms, startling her.

“Let’s go.” As I squeal in excitement, she chuckles, resting her head on my chest.

***

Steve’s P. O. V.

As the driver opens my car’s door, I step out, closing the button of my blazer. I don’t know why, but I feel something in my heart.

This feeling is so different. What’s happening to me?

Taking a deep breath, I make my way towards the cafe.

As I step inside, the world pauses around me. I feel like my breath gets caught in my throat when I see Grace after eight long months, standing behind the counter. Seeing her after such a long time feels like a dream, and my heart skips a beat. All those memories of our time together come flooding back, like a movie playing in my mind.

My eyes become moist as I gaze at her. She is busy attending to customers, and I observe her with keenness. The usual spark in her eyes has disappeared, and her face has become a bit rounder.

As the customer leaves, she looks up from the counter, her eyes meeting mine. There’s a mixture of surprise and something unspoken in her gaze. Time seems to freeze for a moment as we look at each other with longing and so many emotions in our eyes.

Deep down, my inner happiness just bubbles up when I see those same emotions reflected in her eyes. It’s like a little spark of joy ignites within me.

Perhaps… perhaps she has also experienced something during these eight months.

I take a hesitant step forward, my mind racing with a flurry of emotions. The cafe’s ambience fades away as my focus narrows to the person who has occupied my thoughts for the past eight months.

As I approach her, she comes out from behind the counter. My gaze moves down, and I freeze, seeing the baby bump.

Baby bump?

She-she is she’s pregnant?

Oh Fuck! She’s seriously pregnant!

A wave of mixed emotions crashes over me. Is this baby mine? Could it be the result of our time together? My mind races with questions.

It never occurred to me I would meet her again on this path.

As I stand there, frozen in disbelief, she takes a nervous step towards me. Her eyes are filled with a mixture of fear and deep longing.

“Grace. Is this-this my baby?” As I ask, placing my hand on her baby bump, she closes her eyes, losing herself in my touch, while I feel my heartbeat quickening even more.

I hope with all my heart that this baby is mine. I can’t bear the thought of her carrying someone else’s child. She’s meant to be mine, and mine alone.

“Grace, say something.” My words bring her back to the earth, and she opens her eyes.

I find myself unable to look away, waiting anxiously for her response. Every second that goes by feels like I can’t even breathe properly. This overwhelming feeling is hard to shake off.

“Yes, Steve. It’s yours.” She nods, tears glistening in her eyes, while my heart almost skips a beat. In that moment, I find myself breathless, caught in the intensity of the revelation.

I feel a wave of relief washing over me, knowing that she’s carrying my baby. Thank God! I can’t even imagine what I would have done if the baby wasn’t mine.

“Steve.” She places her hand softly on my cheek, bringing me out of the trance. As I look at her, she returns the gaze with a small, painful smile.

I slightly move my head, causing her hand to drop. She looks at me with a hint of hurt, and a rush of emotions floods over me. Joy, relief, confusion, and anger because how could she hide our baby from me? Why did she keep this truth hidden? I’m so angry with her.

But before I can say anything, she starts screaming in pain. She clutches her abdomen, her face contorted in pain. Panic surges through me as I hold her to steady her.

“What’s happening? Grace, are you okay?” I ask, my voice filled with concern.

God, what is happening to her? Please keep her safe.

She winces, struggling to speak through the pain. “Steve, I think, I’m having labour pain.”

As soon as I understand her words, without wasting a single second, I lift her in my arms and carry her outside. As my driver sees me, he immediately opens the door of my car.

I gently place her in the car backseat, instructing the driver to take us to the nearest hospital. The panic and fear in my heart are overwhelming, but I try to remain calm for her sake.

During the drive, I clasp her hand, giving her reassurance and comfort. “Grace, just hang in there. We’ll reach the hospital soon. Everything will be fine.”

She looks at me with tear-filled eyes, a mix of pain and gratitude. “Steve, I didn’t plan for you to find out like this. I’m sorry.”

I squeeze her hand, trying to convey my understanding amidst the chaos. “Right now, all that matters is you.” Placing my hand on her growing baby bump, I add, “and our little one. We can talk about everything else later.”

As we navigate through the busy streets of London, I just pray to keep her and our baby fine. Why she kept the pregnancy a secret is a secondary thing. Right now, my focus is on ensuring she gets the care she needs.