Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You
Chapter 180: Call Me

Chapter 180: Call Me

Marcus

I push the door open, slow.

Natalie’s sitting at the edge of the bed. Her hands are in her lap, fingers woven tight. She doesn’t look at me right away.

Rebecca stays behind me, just inside the door. I don’t let go of her hand.

Natalie lifts her head.

"Thank you for coming, Marcus," she says. "I know it was hard for you."

I nod. "Yeah. It was hard for you too, Nat."

Natalie looks up at me again.

"I don’t want to talk about him right now. I said my peace with him."

"You don’t have to," I say.

Natalie looks at our hands, then back at me. "Then maybe we can just talk. About anything else. About...us."

"Sure," I say.

She nods. "Good."

Natalie leans back a little.

"I forgot how quiet it gets in this house," she says. "Even when people are here, it’s like no one’s really allowed to speak too loud."

"Like your voice might wake something you don’t want to face," I say.

"Exactly."

I glance at the floor. Still the same scratched wood. The same air that smells like dust and old habits.

"You remember the closet in the hallway?" she asks. "The one with the broken hinge?"

I nod. "He used to shove us in there and block the door. Left us in there hours at a time."

Natalie doesn’t flinch. Just presses her lips together like she’s trying not to cry or scream — or maybe both.

"I thought I imagined that," she says quietly. "Sometimes I’d wake up thinking it was a dream. That it didn’t really happen."

"It happened," I say. "You were seven. I was ten. He said we were too loud. Said we needed to learn how to be still."

"I remember it being cold," she whispers. "Even in the summer."

I nod. "And dark. No light came in. I used to count your breaths to make sure you hadn’t stopped."

She blinks fast. "Marcus..."

"I should’ve done more," I say. "I should’ve fought harder. I was the older brother."

"You were just a kid too," she says. "We both were."

She wipes at her eyes and offers a small, broken smile. "But you always pulled me onto your lap and held me. Even when I cried. Especially when I cried."

I glance down, my voice rough. "It’s all I knew how to do."

"And it helped," she says. "More than you know."

Rebecca is still here quietly. She hasn’t moved an inch or said anything. But I need her here. I am selfish for making her feel uncomfortable, but I don’t have the strength to face things alone.

"I kept that memory," Natalie continues. "That you held me. That you told me it would be okay, even when we both knew it wasn’t."

I let the silence sit between us for a second. Then I say, "I almost cut you out of my life."

Her eyes flick up to meet mine, confused. Hurt. "I know."

I swallow. "It wasn’t because I didn’t care. It’s the opposite, actually."

She waits. No anger. Just waiting.

"I thought if I stayed away, it would protect you. From the weight of remembering every horrible thing he did to us."

"You’re not the one I needed protection from," she says gently.

"I didn’t believe that," I admit. "I didn’t think I deserved to be your brother anymore. You were trying to move on, trying to build something normal. And I... I kept reliving it. I didn’t want to drag you back into it every time I couldn’t sleep or couldn’t breathe or couldn’t feel like a person."

She shakes her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "You’re not a burden, Marcus."

"I felt like one. And part of me thought that if I disappeared, maybe you’d have a better shot at peace."

Natalie leans forward, her hand brushing mine on the edge of the bed.

"You were the only peace I had. I am not mad at you, Marcus. You are my big brother and I still love you," Natalie says.

I hear myself exhale, shuddering. If Rebecca weren’t here, it would feel like a hallucination. But her palm hot against mine tells me this is really happening.

Natalie breaks the silence first, her voice shaky but determined. "They said it would only be a day or two. If you want, you never have to see him again after. No funerals, no memories, nothing."

"Good," I say. "That’s good."

Rebecca is watching us both, eyes huge, but she doesn’t say a word. She belongs here, somehow more than anyone else. I don’t know how Natalie reads that, but she gives Rebecca a small, grateful smile.

"You must be someone very special to Marcus. He never shares this part of him with anyone."

"How would you know that?" I ask, tilting my brows.

"Because I know you, Marcus. And yes, I have heard of your reputation with...women," Natalie replies.

I almost smile at that, but it comes out more like a sigh.

"Yeah, well," I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. "Most of that was just noise. White noise to drown everything else out."

Natalie nods like she already knew that.

Rebecca finally speaks, her voice soft but steady. "He’s not very good at hiding the real him."

"I figured," Natalie says, her eyes flicking back to me. "There’s still a little boy in there. The one who used to sleep curled up at the foot of my bed when I had nightmares."

I close my eyes for half a second. That image—her small voice asking me not to leave, my back pressed against her mattress because it was the only place that felt safe. Yeah. That version of me still exists.

"I used to think the only way to survive was to become someone else," I say. "Someone harder. Someone who didn’t flinch."

Natalie studies me. "But you do flinch, Marcus. You just hide it better than most."

I look at her then, really look. She’s older now, sharper around the edges, but her voice is still soft. Still the one that used to ask me if I believed in magic. Still the only one who could get me to sing under the covers when the power went out.

"I don’t want to pretend anymore," I say quietly.

She reaches for my hand again, this time with both of hers.

"Then don’t."

I nod. Slowly. I can’t promise anything else yet. But she seems to understand that.

After a moment, Natalie lets go and leans back on the bed. "Remember when we used to sneak Oreos from the pantry? You’d always blame the dog even though we didn’t have one."

I chuckle. For real this time. "I was very committed to the bit."

"You were," she says. "You said if we believed hard enough, the dog would just appear one day."

I glance at Rebecca, who gives me a soft smile.

"I’m glad you came," Natalie says again. "And I’m glad you have someone."

I nod. "Me too."

We sit there for a while. Not talking. Not needing to.

"I will go home now. Will you leave too, Nat?" I ask.

She sighs. "I need to wrap some things up. Mom...well...he isn’t leaving her with much."

I nod, understanding more than she’s saying. He never was good with money. Too busy spending it on things that made him feel bigger than he was.

"You need help with any of it?" I ask, though part of me hopes she’ll say no. I’m not ready to dig through his things, to sort through whatever mess he’s leaving behind.

Natalie shakes her head. "I can handle it. Mom’s got a sister in Phoenix. She might go there for a while."

"Good," I say. "That’s probably for the best."

I stand up, still holding Rebecca’s hand. The room feels smaller now, like the walls are pressing in. I need air. I need to get out of this house before it swallows me whole again.

"Marcus," Natalie says as we reach the door.

I turn back.

"Call me. When you’re ready. Not because you have to, but because you want to."

"I will," I say, and for the first time in years, I mean it.