Contract Marriage: I’ve Always Loved You

Steve’s P. O. V.

Next morning,

I wake up early, disturbed by the sound of Grace setting up a live video on Instagram.

Annoyance flares up in me as I hear her greeting her fans. “Hey, everyone! It’s Grace, and welcome to my first Instagram Live after my wedding. I know you’ve been waiting for this, so before we dive into your questions, here’s a quick fashion tip for you. Always add a touch of confidence to your outfit. It’s the best accessory you can wear. Now, let’s get to your questions and comments.”

Great, just what I need-my sleep getting disturbed because of her.

The realisation hits me-I’ll have to endure her Instagram sessions, and my peaceful mornings are officially a thing of the past.

I walk out of bed, ready to express my irritation, but stop as I see her.

She sits on the couch, putting a tripod on the table, the soft glow of morning light highlighting her natural beauty. I’m captivated.

For a few seconds, I forget my annoyance as I watch her, absorbed in her live video. Her effortless charm and beauty make it hard to stay angry. As she interacts with her fans, her genuine smile and lively presence are hard to ignore.

She begins scrolling through the comments and questions, addressing her fans one by one.

“Okay, the first question from Stella_22: How’s married life treating you, Grace?”

She chuckles, and after glancing at me, she answers, “Well, Stella, it’s been… interesting. Living with someone you barely know has its challenges, but we’re getting to know each other.”

“What a fake answer! Our married life is going terrible.” I mutter to myself, irked.

She glances at me again, and I can see a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And to be honest, waking up to someone as charming as Mr. Grey is not that bad.”

I roll my eyes at her playful comment. Is she really turning our complicated situation into banter for her fans?

“Emily_89: Please show a glimpse of your husband. We are dying to see the handsome billionaire.” After reading her fan’s request, she glances at me with a naughty glint in her eyes.

However, I shake my head, silently signalling my refusal. I have no interest in becoming part of her online spectacle.

Ignoring my disapproval, she proceeds with a playful smile. “Alright, everyone, the moment you’ve been waiting for. Let me give you a glimpse of Mr. Steve Grey.”

Fuck! This woman! Why does she never listen to me?

As she stands up to turn the camera towards me, I rush to the bed, lie down on my front, and bury my face in the pillow, exposing my bare back. I want no part in this internet exposure.

Grace laughs at my attempt to avoid the camera, commenting to her fans, “Well, there he is, trying to be mysterious. Say hi to my husband, everyone.”

I cringe at the thought of being showcased to her audience in such an intimate way.

I sigh when she finally moves on to the next question, “Next up, a question from Sam_89: How will you deal with conflicts in your marriage, Grace?”

After sitting up, I raise an eyebrow, curious about her response.

She glances in my direction, smirking. “Ah, conflicts! Well, communication is key, you know? We’ll talk things out and try to understand each other. It’ll be a learning process for both of us.”

Learning process? More like a battle zone. I resist the urge to interject because I can’t showcase my personal life in front of the public.

As she continues her live session, scrolling through comments and questions, she reads a comment, “Your wedding ring is so elegant, Grace.”

“Oh, thank you so much for noticing, Jane_76! No doubt it’s beautiful.” She showcases the ring on the camera before glancing at me, and I give her a tight-lipped smile.

She continues, looking at the camera, “And you know what? My husband actually chose this ring for me. He has quite the eye for exquisite things.”

This time, she tells the truth. However, her fans are unaware of the circumstances the heated argument at the jewellery store, and her shouting at the employee.

As she continues with her live session, my mind drifts back to the memory of that day at the jewellery store, and I clench my jaw.

“Last one for now, from Mark_fashionista: Grace, how will you manage your fashion career with this new Chapter in your life?”

I roll my eyes at the mention of my unwanted participation in this live session.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

She glances at me again before responding, “Well, Mark, it’s all about balance. I’ve always been passionate about my fashion career, and I’m lucky to have a supportive husband who understands. We’ll find a way to make it work.”

Supportive husband? I scoff internally. This is just a temporary arrangement, and she’s portraying it as if we have a blissful marriage. The way she manipulates the narrative is infuriating.

As the live session ends, she blows a kiss to the camera. “Thanks for joining me, everyone! It’s been fun sharing a glimpse of my married life. Stay tuned for more updates. Love you all!”

Once the live video ends, she looks at me with a playful grin. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it, Mr. Grey? My fans seem pretty interested in our married life.”

“Why did you put me on display? Respect my privacy and don’t involve me in your work, okay?” I express in anger, standing up.

Her teasing grin fades as she faces my irritation. “My fans wanted to see you, and I just showed them because unfortunately now you’re part of my life for three months.”

“And I know you intentionally did Instagram Live to disturb my sleep, Grace.” I resort.

She counters, “Oh, come on, Steve. You’re so full of yourself. I don’t spend my time figuring out how to make your life worse. I’m a very busy woman.”

I scoff, “Yeah, yeah. I can see how busy you’re fooling your fans.”

She defends, “I don’t deceive them with fashion products. It’s just that I’m feigning happiness in our marriage because I can’t tell them about our three-month contract marriage. Or do you want me to spill the truth?” She challenges, a sly smile playing on her lips.

“I know you will never do it, Grace. You won’t confess to your fans how manipulative you are.” I smirk at her.

“But I can tell them how you locked me on the balcony on the first night of our marriage, Mr. Grey.” She fires back with a wicked glint in her eyes.

I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, Grace. I can’t argue with you anymore. Just keep me out of your social media life because I don’t want to be part of this fake world.”

She smirks with confidence. “As if I need your permission. Just remember, Mr. Grey, we’re in this together for three months, and I’ll live my life the way I want.”

I storm to the bathroom, frustrated by her arrogant behaviour. This contract marriage is turning into a never-ending battle, and I wonder if there’s any way to rescue my sanity throughout these three months.

***

As we have breakfast with my dad, he drops a bombshell on us. “I have planned a honeymoon for both of you. You’ll both leave for Paris this evening on the private jet.”

What? No! I can’t go anywhere with this woman.

“Dad, I’m swamped with work. Let’s plan the honeymoon in a few days,” I make an excuse.

“Yes, Dad, if he’s so busy with work, we should postpone it.” Grace does her drama of being innocent in front of my father, and I glare at her from the corner of my eyes.

“Grace, I know my son, he’ll keep delaying the honeymoon.” He moves his eyes towards me and orders, “You both are going on a honeymoon today, and that’s final.”

“But Dad-”

“Steve, I’m already upset with you. Don’t make it worse.” He asserts as he storms off, leaving no room for further argument.

I shift my angry gaze to Grace.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Why are you angry at me for? I didn’t plan the honeymoon.”

I don’t buy her act for a second, but arguing further would only increase my stress. So I finish my breakfast in silence.

“We’ll leave for Paris in the evening, so be prepared.” I instruct her before standing up and closing the buttons of my coat.

Our honeymoon in Paris is the last thing I want. The thought of being alone with Grace, even in a beautiful city like Paris, fills me with frustration. But I can’t deny my father’s order.