Our Accidental Forever
Chapter 74: Complicated Goodbye

Chapter 74: Complicated Goodbye

As I walked out of the penthouse, shutting the door gently behind me, I felt like I’d stepped into a completely different world. The kiss had been nothing, really, just a simple, friendly gesture.

At least, that’s what I’d been telling myself from the moment I left her side. But as soon as I crossed into the hallway, away from Ella’s presence, I knew there was no lying to myself.

That kiss wasn’t just a gesture. The warmth of her cheek had stayed with me, like an imprint that hadn’t faded, and now my mind was a mess.

My pulse was racing in a way that it hadn’t in years. I pressed the elevator button, fidgeting with my hands, still feeling the touch of her skin, the way she’d looked at me, surprised, maybe even a little breathless.

Her gaze had matched the confusion I felt in my own chest. I’d wanted to support her, to be a solid presence after everything she’d been through. So why did it feel like I’d crossed a line? One I hadn’t even realized was there?

Did she feel it, too? That question wouldn’t leave me. It pulsed through my mind, tugging at me. I couldn’t decide if I wanted the answer or feared it.

As the elevator doors slid open, I stepped inside and leaned against the wall, rubbing the back of my neck, caught between a mix of thrill and guilt.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’d set the terms of our arrangement, boundaries that should’ve kept things like this from becoming an issue.

Our connection had always been... practical, simple. At least, that’s what I’d convinced myself it was supposed to be. But in that single, unexpected moment, I realized it wasn’t so simple anymore.

When the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, I took a steadying breath, forcing myself to focus, trying to shake off this mess of eemotions

But even as I stepped outside, I couldn’t ignore the one thing I knew for sure: that kiss had stirred something I couldn’t push down, couldn’t bury.

With a sigh, I pulled out my phone, scrolling through contacts until I landed on Sam’s name.

He was the only one I could think of who could help me untangle this mess. Sam always had a way of keeping me grounded, of forcing me to face things I’d rather avoid. I called him, and he picked up on the first ring.

"Are you finally dumping your fake fiancée for me?" he drawled.

I rolled my eyes, letting out an exasperated breath. "Sam, for the last time, I’m not gay."

"Oh, please," he said, sounding bored. "I figured you might swing my way eventually, considering your life is full of fake relationships and assassination attempts."

Sometimes, I had no idea how I dealt with Sam’s sick sense of humor. I told him I wanted to meet up, rattling off the name of a café nearby, and hung up before he could even answer.

---

By the time I walked into the café, Sam was already there, leaning back in a booth in the corner, a smirk on his face as he watched me approach. He had that infuriatingly smug look, like he already knew why I’d called him.

"Well, well," he said, pushing a cup of coffee toward me as I slid into the booth across from him. "What’s got you so twisted up that you’re calling me at..." he glanced at his watch, "...five in the evening?"

"Funny," I muttered, picking up the coffee but not drinking it. I didn’t even know where to begin.

He studied me, leaning forward with a grin. "Did your fake fiancée finally do something real enough to knock you off balance?"

"Stop calling her that," I said, rubbing a hand over my face. "And no, it’s just... complicated."

"Complicated?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. "Arec, your life is already complicated. You’re the one who made up this ridiculous contract with a woman you’re obviously falling for."

I let out a laugh, but it was hollow. "I’m not... falling for her," I said, the words tasting strange on my tongue, even to me. "I mean, I wasn’t supposed to be, anyway."

"Uh-huh," he said, crossing his arms, giving me that look that said he knew me too well. "So, what did you do? Did you kiss her or something?"

The words hit me, and I felt myself stiffen, my gaze flicking away from his. Silence stretched between us, and his smirk only grew.

"Oh," he said, eyes widening slightly. "You actually kissed her?"

"It wasn’t a real kiss," I snapped, feeling defensive and not entirely sure why. "It was... a small gesture. A goodbye."

"A goodbye?" He raised both eyebrows. "You’re the only person I know who complicates ’goodbye’ with a woman he’s been sharing a penthouse with. Tell me, how did she react?"

I shifted uncomfortably, not meeting his gaze. "She looked... surprised. Confused, maybe. Like she didn’t know what to make of it." I paused, the memory of her eyes on mine coming back too vividly. "But she didn’t pull away. And for a moment... it felt like she was there with me."

Sam studied me for a moment, his expression losing its teasing edge. "Arec, do you hear yourself? You’re not talking about a contract or an arrangement anymore. This is about her. It’s real now, and you’re just realizing it."

I looked away, struggling with his words. "It can’t be real. This arrangement was meant to be just that, an arrangement. I’m helping her, she’s helping me, and that’s all there is to it."

"Is it?" he asked, his tone softer, more serious. "Because it sounds to me like you’re re-evaluating what you actually want out of this whole thing. Maybe you need to ask yourself if these ’boundaries’ are still working for you."

I stared at him, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with something I couldn’t name. "You’re saying I should just... throw everything out the window because of one moment?"

He shrugged. "One moment, sure. But this isn’t just one moment, is it? You’re spending more and more time with her, you’re staying up nights worrying about her, and now you’re freaking out over a kiss that meant something. Don’t you think that means something?"

I sat back, swallowing hard, letting his words sink in. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was complicating things, maybe I was even making things worse for myself by refusing to admit that something had changed.

"So what are you suggesting?" I asked finally, feeling more vulnerable than I wanted to admit.

"I’m saying," Sam said, leaning forward, "that you need to stop hiding behind this contract. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to consider that what you have with her isn’t just about convenience anymore. It’s real, and that scares you. Romeo."