Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ

Chapter 23

The fake and the real 

Aren poured me another glass of wine while I started to tell him the story of my first love. Normally, I would find it uncomfortable and embarrassing, but there was something in Aren‘s gaze that soothed me and made me trust him. Was I making a mistake in telling him? I had never cared about rich people, and I had never researched Callan and his family, but what if Aren knew him? I observed 

Aren as I mentioned my ex–boyfriend‘s name, but I couldn‘t read anything from his expression. Perhaps he had never heard of him, or it simply didn‘t matter to him. After all, it was merely something that had happened in his contract fiancée‘s past, one of the examples of a fairytale gone bad. 

“I didn‘t care about who he was, although I heard rumors that he was from some wealthy family. I didn‘t like him at first. He was seriously handsome, but he was also this arrogant type who thought that everyone else was beneath him just because he had money. I stood up against him once and called him a douchebag. The next day, he asked me out on a date. I thought that he had made a bet with someone.” I laughed. 

Aren kept his eyes on me while I told my story. I was surprised that he actually listened. It was weird to discuss your previous relationship with someone you are currently dating... Then again, it wasn‘t a real date, and our contracted relationship was far from a romantic one… 

“Was I an idiot to think that Callan could be my one and only?” I asked with a bitter smile. “I have never met anyone from his family. I have never cared about his money, and I would love him just the same if he was penniless. I knew that he liked to spend money and use the money to make other people fight for his attention. I sometimes wonder if our relationship was a game for him... Maybe he waited for a moment when I would finally break and ask him for money, proving that I was no different from those whom he called beggars.” 

I finished another glass of wine, and Aren refilled mine and his, then ordered another bottle. 

He drank his wine and his eyes darkened before he squeezed out, “Was he... your first?” 

“First... in everything,” I responded, tasting the sourness of my own words. 

“Do you still love him?” Aren’s eyes roamed restlessly, trying to read my face. 

thorn that is stuck in my heart. I just don‘t know how to take it out... yet.” I

but it wasn‘t aimed at me. Was he angry for me? There was also pain in those eyes of his, the one I couldn‘t comprehend. As he leaned closer, his hand reached out

softly. “There is an eyelash on your cheek.” I felt as if my cheeks started to burn when he cupped my face in both hands, positioning me. I thought that he was going to brush off the lash with his thumb, but

instant. I didn‘t know how it was possible, but every single thing

As I stayed bemused, one of his hands slid from my cheek down my neck. The brush of his fingers, running smoothly through my skin, sent another wave of shudders through my body. “Your skin is so smooth...” he said softly as if in oblivion. I laughed nervously and grabbed his hand on my neck, stopping his fingers from exploring my other sensitive spots. “Please... don‘t tease me like that,” I said, taking his

a way to talk back? Was it because I hadn‘t been on a date since Callan? Or was it because my dumb hormones whimpered within me, begging me to let him do whatever he wanted? It scared me that I was slowly losing myself to my physical

can help you heal if you let me.” His seductive

“It is my heart that needs healing, and I don‘t think you are a good

unless you

not use experimental therapies,” I insisted.

until

felt more comfortable around Aren. I

*** 

was partially glad he was gone. It gave me a chance to focus on that day‘s task. I need to resign from my work at Café Dorado. I had already given a heads–up to the management, and I sent messages to Monique and Marco. All I needed to do was to bring the official form with my signature on it. I knew that I would be asked questions concerning my sudden resignation, and I had to prepare a rational reason for leaving. I figured that I would tell everyone that I had got a

the

way Aren looked at me and all the tension between us. Was i naive to think that it might have been something more than a desire? I missed being appreciated as a woman, and what Aren did certainly made

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