The Contract Said Leave After, His Mind Said Please Stay Chapter 07

Things started getting out of my control. It began with something small.

It was raining that day, and I was standing outside the building without an umbrella when Julian’s car pulled

The window slid down. He looked at me, his face completely blank. “Get in.”

[She’s soaked. She’ll get sick. And when she’s wet like that, she looks – no. Not going there. I’m worried

about her health. Yes. Her health.]

I climbed in. The heat was already blasting, and he turned it up another notch.

[She’s shivering. I should give her my coat – no, too obvious. The heater is more natural.]

“Thank you,” I said. He didn’t answer.

The car pulled away. We rode in silence until I sneezed.

His hand shot toward the back seat, grabbed a coat, and held it out to me. “Put this on.”

[Screw it – obvious or not, she sneezed, and it’s killing me.]

I took the coat and pulled it on. It was his.

It smelled like him.

“Mr. Sterling, you’ve always been good to me,” I said, and I hadn’t planned the words – they just slipped out.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

[She said I’m good to her. She finally noticed? Three years of deposits, gifts, and cleaning up her messes, and she’s just now figuring this out?]

“Just honoring the arrangement,” he said.

[It’s NOT just the arrangement! I do it because I like you – would it kill you to notice?!]

I turned toward the window, shoulders shaking. He probably thought I was cold.

I was trying not to laugh. But after that ride, something started gnawing at me.

Three years. He’d liked me for three years.

He’d never said a word. He buried everything under that frozen expression, used our arrangement to keep me

close, and never once crossed the line.

Why? I started listening more closely to what went on inside his head.

The answer came one night after he’d had a few glasses of wine.

Not much just enough to lower his guard. He was on the couch, and I was beside him.

His thoughts came through in fragments.

[Would she think I’m disgusting? I’ve kept her as my sugar baby for three years. If I told her I liked her now, would she even believe me? Or would she think I was messing with her head?]

[I’m the one who set this whole thing up. I’m the one who made her a sugar baby. She only said yes because of the money.]

[What right do I have to ask her to like me back?]

[What if I tell her and she takes the money and leaves?]

[At least she’s still here.]

[Even if she’s just a sugar baby, it’s better than nothing.]

I sat there, and the laughter died in my chest. So that was it.

He wasn’t holding back because he didn’t want to tell me. He was holding back because he was terrified. If

he said it out loud and I left, he’d lose even this.

So he chose the cold sugar daddy act over the risk. Three years of it.

Three years of silence. I looked at him – his profile softened by the wine, his guard finally cracked.

The lamplight carved sharp lines along his jaw. His eyes were closed, his brow drawn tight even at rest.

[I’m tired, but she’s still here. Just a little longer. Let me just sit with her a little longer.]

Something seized in my chest and wouldn’t let go. I had to talk myself through it.

What was I still testing? He’d already shown me every card in his hand.

He just didn’t know it yet.