Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You
Chapter 186: Couldn’t Wait

Chapter 186: Couldn’t Wait

Hailey

Rhea’s tiny fingers are sticky with juice, and somehow she’s managed to get glitter glue in her hair again. I don’t even want to know how. She twirls in a circle, her tutu catching the sunlight that pours through Matthew and Sarah’s living room like it’s performing for her.

"Look, Auntie Hailey! I’m a sparkly tornado!"

"You are," I say, chasing after her with a wet wipe in one hand and an empty juice box in the other. "A very chatty one."

Matthew chuckles from the kitchen as he unpacks groceries. "She gets that from Sarah."

"I heard that," Sarah calls from down the hallway.

I manage to wrestle Rhea into a hug and wipe her face, all while dodging the streamers she’s tied to her wrists. She giggles and hugs me tighter, her curls tickling my cheek.

For a moment, I forget the rest of the world.

Rhea runs off again, this time yelling something about unicorns and cereal, and I sit back on the couch with a sigh.

Sarah walks in and plops next to me. "You look like you’re thinking too hard."

"Just enjoying the moment with my little niece," I say, smiling. "She is too darned cute."

Sarah’s eyes brighten. "Isn’t she? And a total Daddy’s little princess."

"Totally spoiled," I say, feeling overwhelming love for the kid. She looks like the perfect combination of Sarah and Matthew. And yeah, maybe I’m a little bit obsessed with her.

Sarah sighs like a proud mom, which she is. "She already has Matthew wrapped around her finger. I don’t even pretend to be the boss anymore."

From the kitchen, Matthew calls, "That’s because you never were!"

Sarah grabs a throw pillow and aims it expertly at him. It hits the wall near the pantry.

"Anyway," she says, turning back to me with a smug little grin, "how are things with you and Josh?"

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean? He’s still annoying. I still love him. He still steals my fries and claims it’s part of the relationship clause."

Sarah hums. "Yeah, but like...have you two talked about anything serious lately? Future stuff?"

I blink. "You mean like joint Costco memberships and who gets to name the dog?"

She gives me a look.

I giggle as I see Rhea is now wearing a colander as a crown.

"Okay, okay, fine. Things are pretty serious between us. He agreed to do another modeling shoot. The condition is that I will be the photographer," I add.

Sarah raises her eyebrows. "What kind of shoot are we talking about here? Like... shirtless, soap opera vibes, or strictly GQ?"

I purse my lips, trying to look innocent. "A tasteful blend."

Sarah chokes on her mimosa. "So, porn."

"ARTFUL nudes," I correct, and am rewarded with a look of pure horror from Matthew, who must have picked up the last few words as he rounds the corner with cereal in both hands.

"He’s going shirtless for a magazine ad, right?" Sarah says, laughing so hard she almost drops her drink. "Just tell me if I need to block his Instagram for Rhea in the future."

Matthew shakes his head. "He’s going to end up as a meme," he predicts.

"Probably," I say, smiling like it would be the best possible outcome.

The conversation veers into complete chaos after that, with Rhea demanding a third bowl of cereal and Matthew insisting that someone please, for the love of God, throw out the expired oat milk. I feel oddly at home in it, like I always have. And I realize, this isn’t the backup family—it’s the real one, the one that’s been here all along, even if I didn’t know I needed it.

Eventually, Rhea falls asleep on Sarah’s lap, breathing softly.

Sarah strokes her curls with that soft, quiet expression only mothers wear. Matthew wraps an arm around both of them and kisses the top of Rhea’s head, and the sight of it makes something shift in my chest. Something tender and a little scary.

I grab my phone and sneak a picture. Just a quiet, golden moment.

Josh texts at that exact second.

Josh: Still alive over there? Or did the toddler riot win?

I grin.

"We lost. The sparkly tornado claimed the couch and declared sovereignty. I’m now her loyal snack servant."

His typing bubble pops up immediately.

Josh: As long as you didn’t defect to the unicorn kingdom. I need you in one piece. Also, I miss you. Come home soon.

That last part stops me. It’s not like Josh to be sappy without sarcasm. And yet...

"Miss you too. Should I bring glitter and expired oat milk?"

Josh: Only if you’re bringing that killer smile and the camera you love more than me.

I roll my eyes. He’s ridiculous. He’s also everything.

Sarah nudges me with her elbow. "You look like a teenager."

"I do not," I say, but I know I’m blushing.

"Josh?" she asks knowingly.

"Josh," I admit.

Sarah sighs. "God, are we all just growing up? Falling in love and becoming boring?"

I laugh. "You literally own a spice rack now, Sarah. How long has it been since you were cool?"

Matthew snorts. "She labeled it by cuisine. I found a jar marked ’emotional damage.’"

Sarah pouts. "Bullies."

We all burst out laughing.

Eventually, the house quiets. I walk outside for a minute to get some air, pulling my coat tighter around me.

I check my phone again. Still no word from Marcus.

It’s been a few days since I last heard from him directly. He’s probably swamped in Germany, running around being intense and broody and handsome with all the European business types. Still... I worry about Rebecca. About how quiet she’s been lately.

I text her.

"Hey. Just checking in. You okay?"

No reply yet. That’s fine. Maybe she’s resting.

I say goodbye to Sarah and Matthew and head home.

The apartment smells like something warm and cinnamon-spiced the moment I step through the door. I frown, blinking in confusion as I slide off my shoes.

Josh is the king of takeout and three-ingredient "culinary hacks." This isn’t his usual move.

And then I see it.

The lights are dimmed, but the soft glow of tea candles lines the kitchen counter. There’s a trail of rose petals, actual rose petals, leading from the door to the living room, where a picnic blanket is spread out with two plates, two wine glasses, and one very proud-looking Josh standing in the middle of it all.

"Welcome home," he says, grinning like he just nailed the final round of a game show.

"What... is this?" I ask, my voice doing a stupid, breathy thing I didn’t mean to let happen.

"A surprise?" he says, suddenly sheepish. "I know you’ve had a long week, and you’ve been spending a lot of time with your family, and I just... missed you. So I made dinner."

"You cooked?"

"I Googled aggressively. Also, the smoke alarm only went off once."

I step closer and spot what looks like stuffed shells and garlic bread. There’s even a salad. With actual vegetables and everything.

"You made all this... for me?"

He shrugs one shoulder, trying to look casual and failing miserably. "Yeah. I know it’s not much, but I just... I wanted you to come home to something good."

My heart thuds once, twice, then does something weird and fluttery.

"I love you," I say.

He steps forward, wraps his arms around me, and pulls me in like he’s been waiting all day just to do that. I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his scent.

He whispers into my hair, "You’re everything, Hailey. Even when you’re yelling at me for misplacing lens caps and stealing your fries."

I laugh against his shirt. "Especially then."

"There’s something else I want to ask you," he says and backs off a little.

I raise my brows. "What is it?"

Josh suddenly looks nervous. Not his usual teasing kind of nervous, the real kind. The kind that makes his fingers twitch and his breath hitch slightly as he reaches into the pocket of his jeans.

I freeze.

"Josh..." I whisper, my voice caught somewhere between disbelief and hope.

"I know this is a little... unorthodox," he says, holding out a tiny velvet box in one slightly shaking hand. "And maybe it’s not over-the-top or choreographed with flash mobs or a violinist hiding in the closet, but..." he swallows. "I didn’t want to wait anymore."

I stare at him, wide-eyed.

He opens the box. Inside is the most beautiful, imperfectly perfect ring I’ve ever seen. Not too flashy. Not too traditional. Just... us.

"Hailey," he begins, and his voice is already thick with emotion. "You’ve made my life messy and loud and frustrating in the best ways possible. You see the world through a lens that makes everything brighter, even when you’re mad at me for using your favorite mug or forgetting where I put your lens cap. I love you. I love every stubborn, brilliant, passionate part of you. And if you’ll let me...I want to keep loving you. For real. For always."

My hands fly up to cover my mouth as tears instantly blur my vision.

He takes a breath, kneeling lower now. "Will you marry me?"

The room goes very, very quiet except for the pounding of my heart and the soft hum of candlelight around us.

I nod. I nod so fast it makes me dizzy. "Yes," I whisper. Then louder, laughing through tears, "Yes. Of course, yes."

He lets out a relieved exhale, like he hadn’t let himself believe I’d say it. He slips the ring onto my finger. His hands are shaking, and I’m crying, and it’s perfect.

And then he is standing, and I’m wrapped in his arms again, and everything else fades.

"This was the cheesiest proposal ever," I whisper into his chest.

"You are welcome," he says, kissing the top of my head.

"You don’t think it’s too soon?" I whisper.

He grins. "Why, do you think it’s too soon? Should I do this again in a few months? Or another year? Because I can assure you, you will still be the one I want to marry."

I shake my head no and giggle. "No. Of course, I don’t want to wait anymore."

"Then stop looking so doubtful and kiss me," he says, pulling me toward him again.