Chapter 8
The next morning at breakfast, Kinsley lifted a spoonful of cereal to her mouth, chewing it thirty times before finally swallowing.
She tried to pace her meal, hoping to wait until Aaron had left before driving to the university.
In just two short days, everything washappening so fast. A sudden marriage, a sudden night of intimacy, and his sudden shift into coldness.
Even now, it still feltlike a dream.
She didn’t fallen asleep until the sky began to pale with the first light of dawn, still not knowinghow she was going toface him.
Her gaze drifted to his side.
He had already finished his meal and was watching her in silence.
Kinsley paused, hastily averting her gaze, and ended up choking on a mouthful of milk.
She scrambled for a napkin, pressing it to her lips, struggling to stifle the cough.
It took several long, agonizing seconds to steady herself.
“Why haven’t you left yet?”
“Waiting for you.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
“You don’t have to. I’ll drive myself.”
He offered a faint, detached smile.
“Dropping off my new wife at universitywill do wonders for my public image.”
She went rigid, the warmth in her chest extinguished by a splash of ice water.
She had foolishly thought he wanted to spend more time with her, but it turned out this was all about the optics.
She shoveled the rest of her cereal into her mouth.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
~ ~ ~
In the car, Kinsley stared out the window, yet she could feel Aaron’s gaze flickering toward her every few minutes.
The silence in the car was suffocating. She searched for something—anything—to break the ice.
“Thanks for the ride, but I really can’t bother you with this every day.”
As soon as the words left her lips, she winced.
Great. Way to sound awkward.
A few seconds passed before he spoke, low and slow.
“Why?”
“Because... I don’t want us to be seen together.”
Her fingers dug into the leather upholstery as she forced herself to look at him.
He shot her a sidelong glance, his eyes razor-sharp.
“So what if they do? You’re my legal wife.”
It was said casually, but the undercurrent of irritation was impossible to miss.
Kinsley knew his rush to marry her had to have an ulterior motive.
She would play the part—attend the events, play the dutiful wife—but she wouldn’t let her world collide with his.
Not her friends, not her classmates.
She turned back to the window.
“I just don’t like it.”
Aaron’s gaze lingered on her, then he fell silent.
He sensed a shift—She felt colder, more distant than yesterday.
Maybe this is who her true self, he mused.
The car was filled only with the low hum of the engine and the soft, ambient music.
Kinsley watched the blur of city traffic, her chest tightening.
Last night—his touch, the raw intensity in his eyes—she had almost let herself believe it was love.
And that realization hurt far more than the coldness itself.
Let it go, she told herself.
Focus on work. Be happy. Stop chasing fairy tales.
The gentle motion of the car lulled her, her eyelids growing heavy.
Within minutes, she drifted off.
~ ~ ~
Kinsley blinked awake, bolt-upright in her seat.
“Damn it, I’m late!”
She grabbed her bag, hand already reaching for the door handle.
Click.
The locks stayed firmly engaged.
She looked over to see Aaron watching her, his expression infuriatingly composed.
“You’re not late. Take a breath and get your head together before you step out.”
Kinsley glanced at the clock on the dashboard. She still had a window of time.
She slumped back into the leather, letting out a long, shuddering sigh of relief.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You were sleeping so soundly. Rough night?”
She glared at him, her pulse spiking.
“I slept fine.”
He let out a low, amused chuckle and reached out to pinch her chin, his thumb brushing her skin.
“You know, you’re actually kind of cute when you’re angry.”
Kinsley swatted his hand away.
“Unlock the door. I’m going to be late.”
Aaron finally relented, the locks clicking open.
But just as she moved to scramble out, he caught her arm, pulling her back.
“No kiss goodbye?”
She felt her face stiffen, a mask of forced indifference.
She leaned in, planted a quick, ghost-like peck on his lips, and shoved the door open, escaping into the morning air.
Aaron watched her go, his gaze lingering on her retreating back long after she had disappeared into the crowd.
~ ~ ~
Kinsley dashed into the classroom, breathless.
Emma was already waving a hand high in the air.
“Over here!”
Kinsley slumped into the seat.
“Where have you been? You’ve been gone for two days.”
Kinsley felt her skin prickle.
She kept her head down, busying herself with digging her textbooks and notebook out of her bag.
“The shoot is running behind. We’ve been pulling night shifts…”
“That sounds brutal. At least tell me there’s overtime pay?”
“...Yeah. Of course...”
“Do you have to shoot tonight?”
“Yeah, for a few more days...”
She cut the conversation short, terrified Emma would dig any deeper.
The professor began the lecture, but Kinsley’s head was spinning; she hadn’t slept nearly enough.
She forced herself to flatten her notebook and transcribe the notes, line by agonizing line, just to stay awake.
Emma leaned over, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Check my Instagram. This post is blowing up!”
“Hmm?”
Emma shoved her phone under Kinsley’s nose.
“Look! Nothing beats a luxury ride for a perfect shot. I mean, look at that backdrop!
“A car like that makes even a casual snap look like a magazine cover. Ten thousand likes already!”
Kinsley looked.
The electric blue of the car body burned into her vision like a strobe light.
It was the photo Emma had taken next to his car yesterday.
They had only been a door-frame apart...
“Nice shot… I’ll go like it.”
She reached for her own phone, desperate to bury the subject.
Emma pocketed her phone, then nudged Kinsley with her elbow, her eyes gleaming.
“That car is back again today. Whoever that woman is… she must be the luckiest girl alive.”
“Yeah,” Kinsley echoed, her heart hammering against her ribs. “She must be.”
The thought sent her spiraling back to the night before—to the heat, the tangle of limbs, the way his breath had rasped against her ear.
The phantom warmth of his touch still ghosted over her skin.
She gripped her pen until her knuckles turned white and buried her face in her notes.
Emma, oblivious, kept chattering.
“You know, yesterday, the couple inside were practically inseparable. Totally locked in a kiss.”
Kinsley’s pen snapped onto the desk with a sharp clack.
“You saw them?”
Emma was still basking in the glow of her own social media success.
“Couldn’t see who it was. Just caught them through the windshield, making out.
“God, I’m so jealous…”
“The next time I see that car, I’m going to wait right there, to see who the lucky one is.”
A ringing sensation, sharp and deafening, filled Kinsley’s ears.
The professor’s voice, Emma’s gossip—it all dissolved into incoherent static.
A terrifying, crystal-clear realization took root in her mind:
She had entered Aaron’s world because of the contract.
But he? He could never, under any circumstances, set foot in hers.
Her chest felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand. The ache was physical.
She craved the memory of last night; she craved his touch.
That dangerous, budding thing inside her—it had sprouted, and it was growing faster than she could control.
Emma was still rambling on.
“Do you think dating a guy like that feels like floating on a cloud? Like you don’t even know which way is up anymore?”
“A bit, yeah…”
Kinsley managed, then scrambled to cover her tracks.
“I mean… a guy like that? Probably, right?”
“He dropped her off more than once, you know? Do you think we’ll see him again tomorrow?”
Kinsley scratched frantic, aimless circles into the margins of her notebook.
“Probably not…” she offered with a stiff, hollow smile. “Just a guess.”
The lecture dragged on, but Kinsley was a million miles away.
Six months. That was the length of the contract.
She didn’t want to be unprofessional, but she didn’t want to keep stifling her feeling.
Even if the price of loving him is a deeper, more agonizing pain, so be it.
Shewantedto keep all of this in the shadows.
Even if sheknew there was no future, at leastshe would have had him.