Hope

Aria -POV

Julian hadn’t come home after the incident.

I expected him the first night. I waited with the light on, listening for the sound of his car in the driveway. He didn’t come.

The second night, his side of the bed stayed cold and untouched. By the third night, waiting felt foolish, but I still did it—sitting up against the headboard, my phone in my lap, checking for messages that never came.

On the fourth night, I waited until 11 PM before finally giving up and turning off the light.

The house felt emptier without him. The silence pressed in from every corner. No footsteps on the stairs. No sound of his briefcase hitting the kitchen counter. No calls. No text messages. Nothing.

On the fifth night, I gave up pretending. I went downstairs, turned on the TV, and clicked on one of my favorite movies on Netflix. I poured myself a bowl of popcorn and settled into the couch, determined to stop waiting for someone who clearly wasn’t coming back.

As I watched, my phone buzzed beside me. For a split second, my heart jumped….maybe it was Julian.

But it wasn’t.

Matthew Barney: “Hey girl, it’s been forever. Maybe we could grab coffee tomorrow?”

Matthew. I hadn’t heard from him since we graduated. Back in college, we’d been close;study partners, lunch buddies, the kind of friends who could talk about everything and nothing. He’d been kind to me in a way that felt effortless.

I stared at the message for a moment, then typed back: “That’s not a bad idea. Where?”

He sent me an address—a café downtown I’d never been to.

I went back to my movie, but after about an hour, dizziness crept in. I turned off the TV and headed upstairs to bed, my hand instinctively resting on my stomach as I climbed the stairs.

The next morning, I did laundry, brushed my teeth, showered, and got dressed. I chose a simple sundress—nothing fancy, just comfortable. For the first time in days, I felt a small flicker of something that might have been hope.

I drove to the café, taking my time. The morning air was cool, and the streets were quieter than usual.

Matthew was already there when I arrived, sitting at a corner table near the window. He looked good,impeccably dressed in a crisp button-down and slacks, his smile warm and familiar. He stood when he saw me and pulled me into a hug that felt safe.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, adjusting the chair for me before I could do it myself.

I smiled. “You too.”

“I already ordered your coffee,” he said, sliding a cup toward me.

I took a sip and my smile widened. “You remembered. Less sugar.”

“Of course I did.” He grinned. “You used to drink three cups a day during finals.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said, laughing softly.

“You look good, Aria,” he said, his tone sincere. “Really good.”

“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself.”

He chuckled. “So—where are you working now?”

I hesitated, stirring my coffee. “I used to work at a company, but… something came up. I had to quit.”

“Really?” He leaned forward slightly. “What happened?”

“It’s complicated.” I gave a small shrug. “Life just… happened.”

He studied me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “You know, you used to be the smartest person in our class. What are you planning to do now?”

“Honestly? I don’t really know.”

Matthew set down his cup. “Aria, what if I told you I have an opening at my company?”

I blinked. “For me?”

“Yes.” His tone was calm, certain. “Not out of pity. You’re more than qualified.”

I looked down at my hands. “I’ve been out of work for a while, Matthew. I don’t know if—”

“So what?” he interrupted gently. “You learn fast. You always did. That hasn’t changed.”

“What kind of role?” I asked quietly.

“Junior strategy and operations. You’d start small, prove yourself, and grow from there. I know you can do it.”

My chest tightened—not with fear, but with something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Possibility.

“And if I fail?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He met my eyes, unwavering. “Then you fail trying, not hiding.”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Take your time,” he said. “But don’t say no because you forgot who you are.”

For the first time in days—maybe weeks—I found myself smiling. Really smiling. “I’ll think—”

“Aria.”

That voice.

My smile died instantly.

I looked up and saw Julian standing there, tall and unreadable in a black suit that somehow made him look colder. His eyes locked on mine, sharp and assessing, like he was cataloging every rule I’d broken just by sitting here.

“Julian,” I said softly, my voice catching in my throat.

Matthew stood and extended his hand. “I’m Matthew Barney.”

Julian didn’t even glance at it. His gaze stayed fixed on me, cold and possessive.

“So this is where you’ve been,” he said quietly.

My fingers tightened around my coffee cup. I hadn’t done anything wrong, yet my heart raced like I had. My palms were damp against the ceramic.

But this time, I didn’t look away.

Julian grabbed my arm and pulled me outside. His grip was tight—too tight—his fingers digging into my skin. I yanked my arm free the moment we cleared the door.

“Who was that?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

“My friend,” I said evenly.

“Friend?” He scoffed. “Do you take me for a fool? Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

“Like what?” I snapped. “The way you look at Selene?”

His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching near his temple. “That’s different.”

“How?” I pressed, stepping closer. “Tell me how it’s different.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping. “You signed a contract, Aria. One of the terms explicitly states—no relationships with other men during our marriage.”

I laughed—bitter and sharp. “Our marriage? That’s rich, Julian. You call it our marriage when you haven’t been home for five days.”

“What I do is none of your business,” he said coldly.

“But what I do is?” I shot back. “That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” he replied flatly. “Remember the terms and conditions. Don’t get carried away.”

He turned to leave.

“He offered me a job,” I said.

Julian stopped mid-step and turned back sharply. “A job? Why would you need one? You’re my wife. Tell him no.”

“No,” I said calmly. “I’m taking it.”

“You’re my wife. You’ll listen to me.”

“Now I’m your wife?” I laughed, the sound hollow. “Funny how I’m only your wife when you need to impress the board or when you want sex.”

“That’s not—”

“Then where have you been for the past five days?” I interrupted. “With Selene. I know you were.”

For just a moment—barely a second something flickered across his face. Surprise? Guilt? But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by that familiar coldness.

“You knew what this was from the beginning,” he said quietly. “I never deceived you.”

“No,” I agreed, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “You didn’t deceive me. I deceived myself. I thought if I followed all your rules, things would change. That…maybe you’d see me.”

I met his eyes. “From today, you don’t get to control every part of my life. The contract says no relationships with men—fine. But it doesn’t forbid me from getting a job. So unless you’re jealous, you don’t get to say no.”

I paused, watching him. “Are you? Jealous?”

His expression hardened. “Jealous of you? Impossible.”

“Then we have no problem,” I said simply.

We stood there in tense silence. The street around us buzzed with morning traffic, people passing by with their coffee cups and briefcases, completely unaware of the battle happening right in front of them.

Finally, Julian exhaled through his nose. His hand, which had been clenched at his side, slowly relaxed.

“Fine,” he said, his voice clipped. “Take the job. Just remember you’re still my wife. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“No,” I corrected him quietly. “I’m not your wife. This is just a contract marriage. There’s a difference.”

His jaw tightened again, but he said nothing. He turned and walked to his car without another word.

I stood there for a moment, my heart pounding against my ribs, adrenaline making my hands shake slightly. I’d never spoken to him like that before. Never challenged him so directly.

It felt terrifying.

It felt like freedom.

My phone buzzed.

Matthew: “Aria, are you okay?”

I stared at the screen, then typed back: “Yes. I’m okay.”

Another message came in almost immediately.

Matthew: “So about the job—do you want to hear more about the position?”

I exhaled slowly, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

Me: tell me more