Contract Marriage starring Love and Revenge
Chapter 42. Do you really not know?

Chapter 42: 42. Do you really not know?

"The uneasy feeling bothered her because it wasn’t the first time Laura would be visiting her mother’s grave, so mom wasn’t sure why she was feeling uneasy about that particular day. She regrets letting her go that day. If only I had insisted on her taking the car... Mom would always say."

"Since there was no one to take Alan, no relative whatsoever, he was going to go into governmental care, but mom couldn’t send him away so they decided to adopt him instead. Alan, just twelve at that time, refused to be adopted and take up the name Grand. He said he wanted to remain his mother’s son and keep bearing his mother’s last name. So mom and dad fostered him instead. He’s been with us since then, as the last kid of the house. Of course he hates being called the last kid." He laughs.

"And this is a secret, but mom and dad adore and spoil him more than me and Rey."

"It’s not such a big secret if I can see it." I say and he laughs.

"You can tell?" He asks with a fake surprised expression.

"I can."

"Ah. Damn." He says and laughs. "Dad was going to have Alan head one of the company subs, but Alan bluntly refused. He said he wanted to work for me. You know, at first he wanted to be Rey’s personal assistant and manager."

"Really?!"

"Yes, but Rey would not have a family member following him around. Rey likes his personal space. He believes having Alan as an assistant would only mean that mom and dad would get to know about his every move. His greatest fear is to have them fly over to a place where he has a match and pay him a surprise visit. Having Alan close to him would only make that fear of his easy to achieve."

"So he turned him down."

"Yep. Very fast too. And since Rey was out of the question, he came to me."

"And started working as your secretary and personal assistant."

"No, not really. I turned him down too."

"Huh? Really?"

"Yes, but then he went crying to mom, and mom told dad, and trust me dearest, you do not want to have those two on your case."

Now I understand it all.

Poor Alan, I can imagine how life was after he lost his mother. He must have felt the same way I felt after losing my parents. His life must have felt like it had come to a stop.

But thankfully, he had good people in his life.

"I’m glad Alan met with good people. I’m glad he’s had good people in his life. I’m glad he had you all to rely on after his mother passed... I’m certain Laura must be so grateful to your mom and dad for taking in her son and loving him as much as they love theirs."

I’m cold.

I’m suddenly feeling very cold and yet my eyes seem to be burning hot. It’s like someone is putting their fingers inside my eyes and it hurts.

"Pagne," He calls me, and his hand slips over mine. "Don’t cry, my dear." He says and brings his other hand to my face.

"I’m not crying." I say.

"Your eyes are glistening like crystals, your brows are furrowed and your lips are trembling. You’re crying." Am I? Am I crying? Did I let the tears fall? I was trying my best to hide it, to hold it back. Did I fail to do that?

"Or will it be better if I tell you to cry some more instead?" He asks, and now I can feel the tears trailing down my cheek, it’s getting harder and harder to breathe as my nose is getting congested. "But I really hate to see you cry, what should I do?"

I’m trying to hold back the sobs but it’s not working. I can’t hold it back so I start bawling like a fool in front of him and he pulls me into his arms, hugging me, stroking my back gently and whispering words into my ear.

"It’s alright. You have us now. You have me now. I won’t let you hurt any more. I’ll give you the family you deserve. A warm family. And we will make those bastards pay for every tear you’ve shed." Those are the words he’s whispering to me on repeat.

...

"How are you now?" He asks after a while.

"Fine. I’m sorry I bawled like an idiot." I say as I wipe my nose with the edge of my puff jacket.

"As much as I hate to see you cry, you’re actually cute when you stop crying. With your swollen red eyes, and red nose like Rudolph."

I punch his arm and grumble, "That’s not nice."

"Even the way you pout is cute."

"For goodness sake, Duke, I’m a grown woman. Don’t call me cute." Because I’m starting to blush foolishly.

"Then what should I call a cute woman when she’s cute?"

"Just stop saying cute."

"Cute."

"Stop."

"Cute Pagne."

"Duke stop."

"Cutey pie."

"What? Are you insane?" I laugh and roll my eyes.

"Cutey baby boo."

"Duke, stop it." Oh, he’s making me behave foolishly in front of him. My stomach is turning and twisting in a very delightful and ticklish manner.

"Cu—"

I jump at him with my hands covering his mouth and half of my upper body resting on him, "Stop it. Stop! Not another word from you Mister man." I try to act stern but who am I kidding, I can tell I’m still smiling like a fool.

He really has fine eyes. Will I ever get tired of staring into these eyes? Now that I’m looking at him up close in daylight, his lashes are beautiful and long too.

"Mmm"

"What? Oh, sorry." I completely forgot myself staring at him! I quickly remove my hand from his mouth and move to sit myself down properly again, but he stops me.

His hand wraps around my waist and he pulls me closer to him again.

"I said yes."

Huh? What is he talking about? Did I ask something?

"Yes, Pagne."

"What?"

"Fall for me." Ah... I remember now.

My question—

"Fall madly and deeply for me."

My question from last night.

"Fall so deep that you’ll drown completely in me."

My question which had been left unanswered.

"Fall so hard that you will never be able to get back up from me."

I’m getting the answer now.

"Fall for me Pagne, that’s what I want."

Rephrase that... I’ve gotten the answer.

But then I have one more question right now.

Should I ask?

Is it alright if I ask?

I want to know the answer to that. I really do. I feel like he won’t lie to me.

And I know I’m not a good judge of character, and that’s why I let God pick for me this time... And God will not give me what is bad for me.

So, it must be safe to ask—

"Why? Why would you want me to fall for you?" I asked the question. What would I get as a response? What am I expecting to get? What could I possibly want as a response?

"Do you really not know or you’re pretending to not know just so I can say it to your face?" His voice comes out in such a low tone that I can feel the vibration in the pit of my belly and my chest.

"I really don’t know." I have a wishful thinking though. And that is that he genuinely likes me. That he wants me. Even though I’m messed up and come from a messed up family, I have this wishful thinking that he wants me.

"Champagne," he rarely calls my name in full. In fact I think it is the second time since we’ve known each other that he is addressing me with my name and not Pagne.

"It might come as a shock to you but, I love you."

Dear God, did he just say something? He couldn’t possibly have said the words I think I heard him say.

I mean there is no way. Why would he? Someone so perfect? Why would he not just like b_but love? Is that what he said?

"Yes Pagne, I said I love you." Dear God, are you there? Are you listening in on this right now?

"And I know you’ve had your doubts since the very first day I asked you to marry me, but marrying you was not a hasty decision. As you should have already realized, no one was using marriage as a means to threaten me out of my job or position or anything like that. So marrying you was not something I was forced into doing. It was the only fastest, safest, easiest and legal way to keep the woman I love by my side."

"I love you, Champagne Grand, God knows I do."

Dear God, do you know? Or did you know?