Chapter 122 Torn
Ethan hadn't expected that single word, contract, to sting the way it did.
As he stood at the sink, rinsing off the last of the dishes, the sound of running water filled the silence between them. The word kept echoing in his head, sharp and cold, like a reminder he hadn't asked for. Contract.
That was what all this was supposed to be. A deal. A transaction. Nothing more.
And yet, as much as he wanted to believe he was fine with that, something inside him tightened. He hated that it bothered him, that the thought of Lena seeing all this as just an obligation left a dull ache somewhere he couldn't quite name.
He'd been in relationships before, ones filled with admiration, convenience, and sometimes even affection, but none had ever made it past the walls he'd built over the years. He had made sure of that. It kept things simple. Controlled. Safe.
But this, Lena, had somehow slipped through the cracks without even trying. And now, of course, the one person who had managed to do that was bound to him by a contract. A temporary arrangement with an expiry date.
He huffed under his breath, half in annoyance, half in self-reproach. Maybe he was just being ridiculous. Maybe she was right, he was cold, guarded, and difficult. Maybe that's all she'd ever see.
He turned slightly, intending to grab a towel, when he caught sight of her. Lena was standing a few steps away, watching him. Her brows were drawn together, her expression soft, worried even. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come.
For a brief moment, their eyes met. Hers were searching, hesitant; his, guarded and unreadable.
He looked away first.
And in that quiet space between them, filled only by the sound of dripping water and the faint hum of the night, Ethan realized how dangerously close he was to something this contract had never promised him.
Lena finally found the courage to speak. Her voice was soft, almost uncertain.
"Ethan... about earlier," she began, twisting the towel in her hands. "I was just joking. I didn't mean to sound..."
Before she could finish, he set down the last plate a little too firmly, the sound sharp in the quiet kitchen. Then he turned toward her.
Her breath caught as he stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the faint warmth radiating off him. Without a word, he placed one hand on the sink behind her, the other on the counter, effectively caging her between his arms.
Lena froze, staring up at him. His expression wasn't angry, but something about it made her pulse quicken. His eyes searched hers, steady and unreadable, yet there was a flicker of something deeper there, hurt, maybe, or confusion he didn't want her to see.
He finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "I'm not angry about what you said," he said after a moment. "I just... got lost in thought."
Lena blinked, unsure if she believed him. Her heart was pounding; he was too close, his presence overwhelming in the small space. She nodded quickly, a silent attempt at reassurance, though concern still lingered in her eyes.
Ethan's gaze softened as he noticed it. For a moment, neither of them said anything, the air between them thick with unspoken emotion. Then, his eyes met hers fully, searching, almost vulnerable in a way she'd never seen before.
"Tell me something," he said quietly, his voice rougher now. "Do you really think I'm... annoying?"
The question caught her off guard. It wasn't said in jest, nor with defensiveness. There was something deeply earnest in the way he asked it, as if her earlier words had echoed louder in his head than he wanted to admit.
Lena's lips parted, but no words came out. She hadn't expected him to care. Not like this.
She could only shake her head, her breath trembling as she whispered, "No, Ethan. Not anymore."
Ethan nodded slowly, a faint trace of satisfaction in his eyes. Then, after a moment, he looked up at her again.
"Tell me something," he said quietly. "Has this whole contract been... an excruciating ordeal for you?"
Lena blinked, caught off guard by the phrasing. A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "Excruciating?" she repeated, amused. "No, Ethan. Not at all. This has actually been... amazing, honestly. I got to go to Paris, meet people I never dreamed I'd meet, "
She was still talking when she noticed his gaze. He wasn't just listening; he was watching her. Closely. Intently. There was something about the way he looked at her, quiet, unblinking, that made her words falter mid-sentence.
"What?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan's head dipped slightly, his expression unreadable. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough. "I think I might have breached our contract."
Her brows drew together in confusion. "What do you..."
Before she could finish, he lifted his head again. His eyes found hers, and then he moved, slow, deliberate, closing the space between them until his breath brushed her lips. Lena went still, her pulse racing wildly.
His hands came to rest at her waist, gentle but certain, pulling her closer. One hand slid upward, smoothing her hair as his thumb lifted her chin so she would meet his gaze.
She remembered that look, the same quiet intensity he'd had the last time he kissed her. Her heart thudded hard in her chest.
And just as his face dipped closer, Lena turned her head away, breaking the moment before it could happen.
Ethan didn't let her go. His arms remained firm around her, holding her in place.
Lena turned back to face him, her pulse hammering. His eyes were low, dark, unfocused, he looked almost intoxicated, not with drink, but with something heavier, something neither of them wanted to name.
"This isn't fair," she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to find her breath. "Because when this contract ends, you'll go back to your world, and I'll go back to mine. And if I..." She swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "If I end up feeling something I shouldn't, it'll just be an ache I'll have to live with."
Her voice broke slightly at the end. Every word seemed to cost her, as if she were trying to speak while her heart was fighting against her reason. The warmth of his arms, the steady rhythm of his breathing, it was all too much. How was she supposed to think clearly when he was this close?
Ethan said nothing for a moment. Then, slowly, he tilted her chin up again, his touch careful, almost reverent. Their eyes met, hers wide and uncertain, his steady but carrying something raw beneath the surface.
"What if," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "I fell in love with you first, that would be an ache I'd have to live with."
Lena's eyes widened. For a second, she couldn't breathe.
He held her gaze, unflinching, as if daring her to look away, but she couldn't.