Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You

Hailey

I sigh like I’m marching to the guillotine and drag myself out of the chair. My legs feel oddly heavy, like my body knows this is going to be a conversation I’ll need a shower after.

"Wish me luck," I mutter.

Tammy raises her coffee thermos like a toast. "Go get ’em, tiger."

I knock this time, for the record.

Marcus’s voice floats through the door, smooth and clipped. "Come in."

I push it open and step inside. He’s behind his desk now, thankfully seated and fully clothed. The blonde is long gone, and his hair is slicked back into its usual sleek perfection.

ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ ɴovᴇl(F)ɪre.ɴet

"Close the door," he says.

I do, resisting the urge to wedge it open with a chair just in case I need a quick escape.

Marcus gestures to the chair across from him. "Sit."

I do, reluctantly. My eyes flick to the desk. He’s moved a folder over the edge, almost like he’s trying to sanitize the memory of what just happened on it.