Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 57: Date Me

Back then...

Matthew

My brain short-circuits. I stare at Sarah, then at Mr. Wilson, my mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

"I need some air," I finally manage, rising to my feet so quickly that my chair nearly topples backward. "Excuse me."

I don’t wait for permission. I stride out of the office, my footsteps echoing on the polished floor. I make my way to the elevator, jabbing at the button repeatedly.

When the doors finally slide open, I step inside and lean against the wall, exhaling a shaky breath. What just happened? How did I go from potentially being fired to apparently dating the boss’s daughter?

The elevator doors open at the lobby, and I walk straight out of the building, loosening my tie as I gulp down fresh air. My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Sarah: Meet me at the park across the street in 10 minutes. We need to talk.

I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen. Every instinct tells me to ignore it, to walk away, to call Amanda and beg her to listen. But I need answers.

Ten minutes later, I find Sarah sitting on a bench beneath a sprawling oak tree, her hair catching the sunlight. She looks up as I approach.

"What the hell was that?" I demand, not bothering with pleasantries.

Sarah pats the space beside her. "Sit down, Matthew."

"I’d rather stand."

She sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I saved your job."

"By telling your father we’re dating?" I run a hand through my hair, frustration building in my chest. "Sarah, I’m in love with Amanda."

Something flickers across her face—disappointment, maybe anger. "She left you."

"Because of you!" The words burst out of me, louder than I intended.

Sarah’s expression shifts, her eyes darting away. "No one forced you to get drunk that night, Matthew."

I shake my head, trying to suppress the anger rising in my chest. "Why are you doing this? What do you even get out of it?"

She exhales, her gaze locking onto mine. "I told you. I saved your job. Will you please sit with me?"

I exhale sharply and lower myself onto the bench, keeping a careful distance between us. "Talk," I say flatly.

Sarah studies me for a moment before speaking. "My father was going to fire you, Matthew. He thinks you took advantage of me."

My jaw tightens. "You could’ve just told him I didn’t."

She tilts her head. "He is very protective of me. I am his only child, after all."

"So you lied?" I ask.

"I didn’t lie. I want to be with you, Matthew," she says.

I let out a sharp laugh, more out of disbelief than amusement. "Are you serious?"

Sarah holds my gaze, unwavering. "Completely."

I shake my head, raking a hand through my hair. "You think you can just decide that?"

"I want us to decide it together. Let’s give this a try, Matthew," she says.

I stare at her, stunned. "You really want to date me?"

Sarah nods. "Yes."

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. "You can’t be serious."

"I am," she says simply. "You’re angry now, I get that. But think about it—really think about it. My father believes we’re together. You get to keep your job. And maybe...maybe you’ll see that this isn’t the worst thing that could happen."

I clench my jaw, my pulse pounding. "And what if I say no?"

Sarah studies me for a long moment. "Then my father finds out the truth. And you lose everything."

My stomach tightens. "That sounds like blackmail."

She shakes her head. "That’s not what it is."

"Isn’t it?" I ask.

"No. I am merely suggesting we date to keep up appearances so my father does not look at you as some sleazy opportunist. We can break up after a while if that’s what you want," she says.

I exhale, long and slow. "This is insane."

Sarah smiles, tilting her head slightly. "Maybe. But you don’t have a better option, do you?"

I hate that she’s right. I hate that she’s backed me into a corner like this.

And I hate that, despite everything, part of me is actually considering it.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I glance at her, expecting to see smug satisfaction on her face. But instead, she just watches me with that same steady, calm expression.

"You’re not giving me much of a choice," I mutter.

"You do have a choice," she says lightly. "You can walk away, lose your job, and deal with the fallout. Or you can agree, and we both get what we want."

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "You get what you want. I get blackmailed into being your boyfriend."

Sarah sighs, like I’m being difficult on purpose. "Matthew, I’m not asking for much. Just pretend. Play along when necessary. We’ll set boundaries. And in a few months, when it’s convenient, we’ll break up. No harm, no foul."

I rake a hand through my hair, frustration burning through me. "And what about Amanda?"

She frowns. "What about her?"

"You expect me to just forget about her?" I ask.

Sarah’s expression hardens slightly. "She already left you."

I clench my jaw. "That’s not true."

She tilts her head. "Isn’t it? She left, Matthew. She didn’t fight for you. She didn’t even hear you out." frёeωebɳovel.com

My stomach twists. It’s not like I haven’t had the same thoughts, but hearing them from her makes my blood boil.

I stare at my hands, my fingers clenched into fists on my lap. Sarah’s right about one thing—Amanda walked away. Didn’t even give me a chance to explain. The memory of her cold eyes burns through me.

"Just think about it," Sarah says, her voice softening. "This arrangement benefits us both."

"How exactly does this benefit me?" I ask, bitterness edging my words.

"You keep your job. You avoid the humiliation of everyone thinking you’re some sleazy guy who got drunk and took advantage of the boss’s daughter." She pauses, letting that sink in. "And who knows? Maybe you’ll find that being with me isn’t so terrible."

I look up at her, really look at her. "I need time to think," I finally say.

Sarah nods, standing from the bench. "Okay. But don’t take too long." She smooths her skirt, then adds, "My father’s hosting a dinner party Friday night. He’ll expect you there. As my date."

She walks away before I can respond, her heels clicking against the pavement, leaving me alone.