Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You
Chapter 171: Relationship

Chapter 171: Relationship

Marcus

Rebecca is gazing at me with an expectant look, her eyes probing for more information about my family. It’s as if she’s silently urging me to open up, to share stories and details. But, the truth is, an invisible barrier holds my words back.

I feel an overwhelming hesitation to get into the topic, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest at the thought of discussing them. Not only do I not want to talk about my parents, but even the idea of talking about Natalie feels like opening a door to a room I’d rather keep shut.

"What’s your sister’s name? Is she younger or older?" Rebecca asks.

I force myself not to sigh. Those are fair questions to ask me. After all, I started it by being curious about her family.

"My sister...Her name is Natalie, and she is three years younger than me," I reply.

"And your parents? What do they..."

"Rebecca," I interject, my tone firm yet gentle. "Can we talk about something else for now? I promise I’ll share more about my family, just not at this moment." My words come out more curtly than intended.

Rebecca’s expression shifts to one of disappointment, her eyes dimming slightly. "Oh, okay. Sure, we can tall about it later."

The slight sadness in her gaze tugs at my heart, unraveling my resolve. I pull her towards me, the warmth of her presence a reassuring comfort.

"I’m sorry," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to hurt your feelings. I’m truly sorry if I did."

Her face transforms with a radiant smile, bright and reassuring. "You didn’t hurt my feelings!" she insists.

"But you look so sad," I counter, doubt creeping into my voice. "I must have hurt you, right? Damn it... I’m a terrible person. I just...This whole relationship thing is new to me. I don’t really know how to be a good boyfriend and..."

"Marcus!" she exclaims, silencing my self-deprecating spiral as she places a soft, calming hand over my mouth. "Stop rambling! I promise you didn’t hurt my feelings. Seriously."

"Are you absolutely sure?" I ask, the tremor in my voice betraying my vulnerability, making me feel utterly pathetic.

"Yes, I am sure. It’s clear that you aren’t ready to get into your family background, and that’s perfectly alright," she replied, her head shaking gently, as if to reassure me.

A wave of relief washes over me, and I let out a long sigh. "Thank you."

"Maybe you’d want to talk more about Megan instead?" Rebecca inquires, her eyes sparkling with hope as she gazes at me expectantly.

I brighten at that. Megan, my daughter, is the sunshine of my life. Without her, my life would’ve been dark and dreary. "Maggie is the best thing that came out of what could’ve been the biggest mistake of my life," I declare.

Rebecca smirks, her lips curling with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I’m guessing you and her mother don’t exactly see eye to eye?" she asks, her voice laced with playful curiosity.

I grimace, the memories flashing uncomfortably through my mind. "You guessed right," I admit, my voice tinged with exasperation. "Amy was a nightmare to be around. What was meant to be just a one-night stand turned into an ordeal when she latched onto me like a burr and nearly crossed the line into stalking."

Rebecca raises an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of mock concern. "Oh great," she says with a dramatic sigh. "Am I going to have to fend off a crazy baby mama?"

I can’t help but chuckle, the tension easing as I pull her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. "Don’t worry," I reassure her, my tone light and soothing. "Once Maggie was born, and I agreed to pay a hefty sum of child support, Amy finally backed off and left me in peace."

"Good. Because you are mine now," Rebecca declares softly, pressing her warm lips against mine. I close my eyes, surrendering to the moment, allowing myself to get lost in the intoxicating sweetness of the kiss, feeling the world around us fade away.

She pulls away first, her gaze piercing and unwavering as she studies my face with an intensity that sends a thrill through me. "Marcus," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Earlier, you mentioned something about... being new to relationships."

I raise an eyebrow, curiosity sparking within me. "Yes, so what?"

She pauses, a hint of vulnerability flickering in her eyes before she continues, "And then, you said you don’t know how to act like a good boyfriend."

I regard her with a questioning glance, my heart racing. "Yes, I did say all of that. What’s your point?"

Her voice drops to a whisper, trembling slightly. "Am I...am I your girlfriend?" she asks, as if afraid to hear the answer.

For a moment, her question hangs between us like a fragile thread—something delicate and real, something that could either stretch into something beautiful or snap under the weight of silence.

I blink, startled not by the question itself, but by the sheer emotion behind it. Her vulnerability is so raw, so unguarded, that it slices straight through the walls I’ve spent years building around my heart.

"Rebecca," I say slowly, my hand finding hers. "Of course you’re my girlfriend."

Her eyes widen, and I swear her breath catches just slightly.

"I thought it was obvious," I add, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I mean... I don’t make heart-shaped toast for just anyone."

A breathy laugh escapes her, and she quickly swipes at the corner of her eye. "You didn’t actually make the toast, Marcus. You branded it."

"Semantics," I mutter, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. "But yes. I want you to be mine. And I’m...yours, if you’ll have me."

Rebecca leans in then, forehead resting against mine, her eyes fluttering shut. "God, Marcus. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that."

I smile. "You could’ve just asked."

"I did just ask. And it was terrifying." She pouts.

I chuckle softly at her pout, lifting her chin with two fingers so I can see her eyes. "Terrifying?" I echo, teasing gently. "You face screaming second graders during indoor recess. And this is what scares you?"

She smiles despite herself, her lips curving up as she shakes her head. "That’s different. Glue and glitter don’t break hearts."

"Neither do I," I say.

"Liar. You have a reputation of being a playboy," she points out.

"Yes," I admit. "I was that guy. Flirting, short-term stuff, not letting anyone get too close."

Rebecca raises an eyebrow, waiting.

"But I want to try to be...different," I continue, my voice quieter now.

Her eyes soften a bit. "Because of me? Why?"

"You call me out on my crap. You make me laugh when I’m being too serious. And the sex with you is fucking fantastic." I grin.

Rebecca rolls her eyes. "Of course that would be one of the reasons."

"You pursued me to keep me away from Hailey. Now you have succeeded. Are you complaining?" I point out.

She shakes her head no. "Nope."

"Good."

I reach out, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her flush against me. "Now, what are you going to do about this...Kevin?" I ask.

Rebecca blinks, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. "Kevin?" she repeats, her brows furrowing slightly in confusion.

"Yeah," I say, keeping my tone light, though there’s a teasing edge under it. "The guy who you went on a date with and the one sending you playlists titled ’Songs That Remind Me of You.’ That Kevin."

She snorts, pulling back just far enough to look me in the eye. "Oh my god, he never send me a playlist like that!"

I raise both eyebrows and shrug. "He didn’t? Well, he seems the type."

"We only went on one date. Are you jealous?" she asks.

"No. Why should I be? I mean, maybe I should send him a gift basket. Something like, ’Thanks for warming her up for me.’"

"Marcus!" she gasps, laughing and shoving at my chest. "That is so messed up."

God, I love making her laugh. She swats at my chest again, but there’s no real heat behind it.

"I mean it," I tease, giving her my most obnoxious grin. "Maybe include a card that says, ’Better luck next time, champ.’"

She groans and drops her forehead against my shoulder. "You’re the worst," she mumbles, though her arms slide around my waist like she has no intention of letting go.

"I prefer ’the best bad decision you ever made,’" I reply smugly, wrapping my arms tighter around her.

Rebecca lifts her head again, eyes dancing with amusement. "You’re ridiculous."

"But you like me ridiculous."

"Maybe," she concedes with a smirk. "But if Kevin ever does send me a playlist, I’m forwarding it to you just to watch your head explode."

I narrow my eyes, mock serious. "I swear to God, if I get a Spotify link from that guy with sad boy indie tracks and a title like ’Late Nights & What-Ifs’—"

She cracks up. "Late Nights & What-Ifs! Oh my god, that’s exactly the kind of playlist he’d make."

"See? I know my competition."

"You don’t have competition, Marcus."

Her words are simple, but they hit me hard—solid and warm like a punch to the chest wrapped in a hug.

"I better not," I say.