Page 74 of The Husband Contract

His face is blank, lacking any emotion, as he stands therewith his arms crossed. He’s like a security guard—burly, mean, and no-nonsense.

“Please, Sebastian, listen to me. I’m telling you, I don’t know Sergio, and he certainly never gave me any money.” Hysteria rises in my chest, clawing at my throat, and making it hard to breathe. “Please, listen to me. I only have two hundred fifty-nine dollars in my bank account. Look, you can see.”

I scramble to get my phone to show him. I log into the banking app and then push the screen in his face.

“Two hundred fifty-nine dollars, Sebastian,” I reiterate, needing for him to believe me. “Oh, and let’s not forget the thirteen cents.”

He stares at the screen for a few moments, his eyes scanning the information in front of him. I hope that he’s going to believe me. I hope that he’ll apologize and we’ll laugh and move on with our life.

Instead, his brow furrows and he glares at me.

“Do you think I’m stupid, Willow?” he says in a cruel, thin voice.

“What?” I’m confused by his question.

He stares at me for a couple of seconds. “How many offshore accounts do you have?”

“Whatoffshore accounts?” I ask in shock. He can’t be serious, can he?

I grab his hand, but he pulls away from me, and that hurts more than anything. “Sebastian, I’m telling the truth. I’m broker than broke.”

A scowl of disbelief mars his handsome face as he snaps, “Ten million types of broke.”

And, as I think about what he’s accusing me of, and the reality of the situation, I can’t stop myself from laughing hysterically. This is literally a bad joke. A nightmare so crueland vicious that even Freddy Krueger would feel sorry for me.

Sebastian thinks I’ve hidden ten million dollars when I’ve never even seen or thought about seeing that amount of money in my life.

“You think this is funny?” His voice is cold, and something in his tone pierces my heart. He doesn’t believe me. He will never believe me. He doesn’t love me. Every single moment we’ve shared has been false—just a mirage of what I wanted to see. I understand now. There is no getting through to him.

“I’m ready to go,” I say, defeated and tired. I have nothing left to say. All of my excitement and love have evaporated into the air.

His eyes flash with an unreadable emotion I’m unable to interpret. Then, with a grunt, he goes to grab my suitcase, but I snatch it away from him quickly. I don’t want his help.

“I got it,” I clip out, not making eye contact. I can’t bear to stare at the man I’d given myself to so easily.

We walk out of the room in deafening silence. I don’t look back. As the door closes behind us, we head to the elevator, and all I can think is that I’m the exact opposite of what I was when I first arrived here.

I don’t know where we go from here or what he wants from me. I don’t really understand why he married me. I don’t understand the contract, but I’m sure at some point, he’ll explain more.

I just don’t care anymore. He’s not the man I thought he was. He’s not the man I thought I loved.

As we get into the limo, I look out at the hotel and down the street. What had been all bright lights and exciting dreams when we’d first arrived were now broken promises and heartache. As the limo pulls away and I stare at the trashon the streets and see the drunks stumbling and throwing up, I realize that this place was all fake—everything about it. Vegas, like Sebastian, offered me an illusion of grandeur and fun, but I see now that the glamour and the glitz of it all were built up on a façade of what I’d wanted to see and believe.

Maybe because the reality of my life was just too depressing for me to bear. Maybe because I was so fed up with my real reality, I trusted the illusion. I believed the lies. But now, I can’t allow myself to absorb the deception any longer.

There is no happily ever after for me.

I understand that now. I’m ready to accept my real fate, that life is something cruel and without mercy. To just be grateful that at least I have two best friends I love and can rely on. That is more than a lot of people have.

When I feel eyes burning into me, I glance over at Sebastian who’s staring at me. I take in his handsome face and then look away. I have nothing left to say to him. I just don’t care anymore.

Chapter Twenty

Sebastian

“We’re almost to my home,” I say, turning to an unmoving Willow.

She doesn’t acknowledge my comment, nor does she look at me. She’s been giving me the silent treatment since we left the hotel in Vegas, and it annoys me more than I’m willing to admit.