Chapter 5
Julian POV
After I got back to the office, I couldn’t focus on work. The image of Aria with that man kept playing in my head, over and over. Matthew Barney. Even his name irritated me.
The way he had looked at Aria disgusted me.
“Jasmine,” I called through the intercom.
“Yes, sir?”
“Get me everything you can find on Matthew Barney. Employment history, current position, everything.”
“Right away, sir.”
I leaned back in my chair, but my mind wouldn’t settle. Aria, smiling at him the way she used to smile at me. Friends don’t look at each other like that. I’m not dumb or stupid.
I yanked at my tie, loosening it. I was starting to feel hot even though the air conditioner was running at full blast.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Aria wanted to work at his company. The audacity of him to offer her a position. I couldn’t even imagine them together in the same office building every day.
Would they have lunch together? Would he get her coffee? Would he give her rides home?
No. I didn’t want to imagine any of it.
Jasmine knocked and walked in with a folder in her hand.
“Matthew Barney’s background check, sir.”
I flipped through it, frowning with each page. Matthew Barney, twenty-nine. Chief Technology Officer at Apex Innovations. Stanford graduate, summa cum laude. Company revenue increased 47% under his leadership. Forbes 30 Under 30 list.
“He’s pretty impressive,” I muttered under my breath.
An uncomfortable feeling settled in my chest. “Find me more about his personal details. His marital status—whether he’s married or dating someone.”
“Okay, sir. I’ll check.”
Jasmine took the file and left.
My phone buzzed. Selene’s name flashed on the screen.
I ignored it.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Aria and Matthew had looked at each other. The ease between them. The comfort.
I wasn’t jealous. This was just… professional concern. Contractual concern, really. I had the right to know about her work environment. After all, she was my wife—on paper, at least. Even if it wasn’t real.
It was normal concern. The kind any husband would have for his wife.
Right?
I went home early that day, something I had never done before.
Did I care what Aria thought about it? I wasn’t sure anymore.
The house was quiet when I entered. Aria was in the kitchen cooking. The smell of garlic and herbs filled the air, warm and inviting. She looked up, surprised to see me.
“You’re home early.” A statement, not a question.
Then she turned back to stirring whatever was in the pot.
No where have you been? No I missed you.
Nothing.
I walked over and studied her face carefully. She looked tired. Pale. Like someone who’d been sick for days and was trying to hide it.
“Aria, are you sick?”
I moved closer, close enough to see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her hand trembled slightly as she held the spoon. I reached out, my hand hovering near her arm.
Before I could touch her, she covered her mouth with her hand and ran upstairs.
“Aria, what’s wrong?” I quickly followed her.
“Are you sick?” I asked, leaning against the bathroom door frame.
She was bent over the toilet, retching. When she finally stopped, she cleaned her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m fine,” she said gently, but she looked exhausted. Like someone who’d been overworking herself for weeks.
“You don’t look fine,” I said, taking a step toward her.
She took a step back.
“Stop this pretense. Stop acting like you care. Stop confusing me.” Her voice was weak, trembling. “I won’t let you use me however you want. I can’t share you with Selene.”
“Calm down. This isn’t about Selene,” I said.
For the first time, the thought of Selene felt distant. Long gone.
“If it isn’t about her, then what?” She looked right into my eyes. “Tell me. I want to know.”
Because I can’t stand you smiling at him. At Matthew. Because the way he looked at you was more than friendly. Because I don’t want you working in his company.
I wanted to tell her all of that. But I was too proud.
“You’re my wife. That’s why, Aria.”
She smiled bitterly. “Yeah, I get it. Contract wife. It’s just a contract.”
That’s when I noticed an unfamiliar bottle on the counter by the sink.
“What’s that bottle?” I asked.
She quickly grabbed it. “It’s nothing.” She hid it behind her back before I could see the full label.
“You’ve been taking a lot of pills lately, Aria.”
“They’re just multivitamins. Nothing to worry about.”
“Aria, you look sick. You’re not fit for this job.”
“I’m fine, okay? That’s why I’m taking them—so I’ll be well enough for it.” She tried to move past me.
“So tell me about the job.”
“Really?” She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Now you’re suddenly interested in what I do? After four years of marriage, four years of treating me like some whore?”
The words hit me like a bullet.
“No, Aria—”
“Yes. That’s exactly what it looks like. Tell me, Julian—when’s my birthday? What’s my favorite food? My favorite color? What do I do when I can’t sleep?” She laughed softly, painfully. “We both know you have no answer to any of that because you never cared. I’m just a convenient bedroom arrangement to you.”
“I know you,” I said weakly.
“What do you know? Just what’s written in our contract?”
I had no answer. Nothing.
She pushed me aside and walked past me.
“Aria, we’re not done talking—”
“We are, Julian. You kept choosing Selene over and over. Now I’m making my own choice.”
“This isn’t about Selene!”
“Then who is it about? Where were you for the past five days, Julian?” Her voice rose. “You get to disappear for five days without a word. But I take a job and suddenly you have a problem?”
I wanted to say that ,because I was angry. Because I want to prove that I don’t care whatever you do. Because somehow, being with Selene now feels wrong.
But instead, I said, “None of your business.”
“Exactly my point. So it’s none of your business if I take the job too.” She turned and went downstairs.
My phone buzzed. Selene.
For the first time, I didn’t pick up her call.
She had always been part of me. I loved her. I’d loved her for so long.
But right now, something didn’t feel right.
I picked up my phone and texted Jasmine. Make sure you find all the information you can on Matthew Barney.
I sighed deeply.
She’s my wife. I’m responsible for her safety—even if it’s just a contract.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, a quiet voice whispered that this wasn’t about contracts or responsibility.
It was about something I wasn’t ready to name.
