When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 61

Amelia

I dragged my suitcase across the threshold of Julian's riverside apartment, my arms heavy with the weight of more than just luggage. The door clicked shut behind me with a sound of finality that echoed through my chest. This was it. I'd actually left.

The apartment was immaculate—all clean lines, modern furnishings, and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing Manhattan's glittering skyline across the Hudson. It was beautiful. Expensive. Empty. Just like my heart.

I abandoned my suitcase in the entryway, not bothering to unpack. What was the point? My entire life felt temporary right now. I stumbled toward what I assumed was the guest room, pushed open the door, and fell face-first onto the perfectly made bed. The sheets smelled like lavender and something unidentifiably expensive.

"From now on, it's just me," I whispered into the pristine pillowcase, feeling a tear slide across the bridge of my nose.

My phone buzzed somewhere in my purse. With tremendous effort, I fished it out and squinted at the screen. Dr. Matthews, following up about the Boston training program.

[You in?] her text read simply.

I typed back immediately: [Yes. I accept.]

Then I let the phone fall from my fingers and surrendered to exhaustion.

---

Sunlight stabbed through the massive windows, slicing across my face. I groaned and rolled over, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn't my room. This wasn't our apartment.

'Our' apartment. No, Ethan's apartment.

I checked my phone—1:14 PM. Jesus Christ, I'd slept for fifteen hours straight. The silence in the apartment was oppressive, broken only by the sound of my own breathing. No Mrs. Hopkins bustling around. No possibility of Ethan walking through the door. Just... nothing.

My stomach growled angrily, reminding me I hadn't eaten since yesterday's lunch. I padded into the kitchen, the cool hardwood beneath my bare feet. The refrigerator hummed quietly, and when I opened it, I found it fully stocked with fresh produce, prepared meals, and a bottle of my favorite rosé.

A yellow Post-it note was stuck to the freezer door:

[Kitchen's got plenty of food, fridge is full. Just eat what you want before it goes bad! And if you need anything, just ask. — Julian]

Something warm unfurled in my chest. Julian had always been thoughtful like that, anticipating needs before they were expressed. For a moment, the crushing loneliness receded, and I almost smiled.

The doorbell rang, breaking the silence. I guessed it must be Olivia; she said she would bring some things over to keep me company.

I approached the door and peered through the peephole. Olivia stood there, arms laden with shopping bags, her signature red hair swept into a messy bun. Without hesitation, I yanked the door open.

"Amy!" Her eyes widened as she took me in. "You look like absolute shit. Is my brother's apartment that bad?"

Before I could respond, she dropped her bags and wrapped me in a fierce hug. The familiar scent of her perfume engulfed me. I hadn't realized how desperately I needed this until my arms were around her, clinging like she was a life raft in stormy seas.

"It's okay," she murmured into my hair. "I've got you."

And just like that, the dam broke. I sobbed into her shoulder, ugly, heaving cries that shook my entire body. Olivia just held me tighter, not saying a word, letting me fall apart in the safety of her embrace.

---

"So you actually did it," Olivia said, pouring us each a generous glass of wine. "You left him."

The living room had transformed in the hour since Olivia's arrival. She'd unpacked bags containing face masks, chocolates, more wine, and her overnight things. The cold, pristine space now felt warmer, lived-in.

I took a long sip of wine, letting the alcohol burn a path down my throat. "I did."

"I'm proud of you," she said firmly. "He didn't deserve you."

Olivia raised her glass in salute. "To my badass best friend."

We clinked glasses, but I didn't feel badass. I felt hollow.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked, tucking her feet underneath her on the couch.

The wine loosened my tongue. "I found out Ashley drugged me at my father's party. She confessed to it herself, and then told me that Ethan knew about it all along."

"That psychotic bitch!" Olivia's face contorted with rage. "And that lying, manipulative bastard! I hope she rots in hell, and I hope his dick falls off."

A strangled laugh escaped me. I drained my glass and reached for the bottle.

"You know what kills me?" I said, my words slightly slurred. "I actually thought... I don't know... that maybe what happened between us that night meant something to him too."

Olivia refilled my glass with a sympathetic look. "Why does it hurt so much if it was just a contract marriage?"

I stared at the ceiling, and the familiar sharp pain welled up in my eyes again. "Because I'm the world's biggest fool, Liv. I fell in love with my fake husband."

The words hung in the air between us. I'd never admitted it out loud before, not even to myself. But there it was—the raw, painful truth.

"Oh, Amy." Olivia slid closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "You deserve so much better than this shit show."

I leaned my head against her shoulder. "I accepted the Boston position today. Three years away from here. It's perfect timing, really."

"It sounds like running away to me."

"Maybe it is," I admitted. "But maybe that's exactly what I need right now."

Olivia studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. If that's what you want, I support you. But you know what? You're not doing this alone. I'm staying here with you."

"What? You can't—"

"I just finished filming, so I’ve got a lot of free time now," she cut in.

For the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine smile spread across my face. "You'd really do that?"

"Try and stop me." She raised her glass again. "Remember my idea? I'm making it official! I've moved in! Roomies?"

"Roomies," I agreed, feeling a small spark of hope ignite in my chest.

Before settling in for the night, I checked my phone one last time. No calls. No texts. Nothing from Ethan. Of course not. What had I expected? I silenced my phone and curled up beside Olivia on the sectional, grateful not to be alone with my thoughts.

---

A shrill ringing jerked us both awake the next morning. Olivia shot upright, her hair a wild red halo around her head.

"Shit, shit, shit!" She fumbled for her phone. "What time is it?"

I squinted at the clock on the wall. "Eleven?"

"Fuck!" Olivia leapt to her feet. "Today's the bidding day!"