The entire ACOTAR series is on our sister website: novelsforall.com

We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

Contractual Obligations: Chapter 6


“You know, you don’t usually hear about an employer having a party for the opening of a new office,” the stylist said. I had been in the chair for hours, redoing my roots that had grown out, and putting my hair into perfectly coiled curls for the party tonight.

I wanted to tell her this was all for show. Miller Industries was only doing this to appear like a good employer, to showcase the best they had to offer on social media, and to be sure Sebastian and I were in the local news as the perfect couple.

But those were inside thoughts.

“Miller Industries really cares,” I said, the lies burning as they came out. “They want their employees to socialize as well as work.”

Ugh. It sounded fake to my own ears.

“Wow,” the woman said. “No one else does that these days.”

It wasn’t like it really helped. Turnover among the employees was always high because they focused more on glitzy parties rather than making sure the people were really taken care of.

Miller Industries was known for looking good with nothing behind it. A pretty face with no brain in its head. I suppose the same thing was true for my public persona.

The hair appointment was taking forever. I was uncomfortable and had been all day.

I was wearing a tight emerald-green dress for the event. My hair would be freshly touched up, and I was also going to have my makeup done to look picture-perfect.

But I certainly didn’t feel perfect. My scalp was on fire from the hair dye, and my ass was numb from sitting all day.

If I had a choice, I would never have my hair bleached again; but my mom always told me I looked good with blonde hair. Back when I was young and believed in her, I agreed.

I’d also agreed with her insistence to hide my natural freckles under makeup. I had been taught to not even leave my room without foundation on, and during the move, I made sure I looked acceptable the whole time. Even though I had been sweaty, I knew my makeup hadn’t budged.

Lately, I’d started wondering what life would be like if I didn’t spend so much time on my appearance. I wanted more time to write or go for walks.

But I didn’t have a choice. I had to be what I was now.

I glanced at myself in the salon mirror and caught a glance of the fake version of me in the reflection. I had to look away.

It wasn’t the stylist’s fault. She was friendly, and her salon was nice too. I could see myself coming here for a haircut, but not for bleaching.

Sebastian and I hadn’t talked since the night Heather was last here. Sometimes, when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, he would look at me with such a resigned, pained expression.

I hadn’t ever seen it before, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt betrayed that my fake persona was cracking.

And it wasn’t going to get any better.

Jessie hadn’t reached out, and I felt lost without my usual confidant. So lost that I couldn’t keep it together.

By seven that evening, I was looking perfect, but feeling rotten.

Sebastian was waiting for me by the door, tapping his foot impatiently; we were running late. I took a deep breath before meeting him, stomach in knots at the thought of having to pretend to be in a loving relationship.

Miller Industries had rented a theater downtown. Sebastian walked me to his car, where I climbed in, feeling dizzy at how tight my Spanx were on my body. I even hated wearing these tight undergarments, but my mother and the media always found something wrong with my body. If it wasn’t that I’d gained a pound, it was that my waist wasn’t small enough in comparison to my hips. There was always something wrong with me, but at least I had more of an hourglass figure in the Spanx.

Sebastian had only given me one appreciative look when he saw me. Earlier in our marriage, I used to live for those looks. Now, I wasn’t sure how I felt.

My body was still attracted to his—that much would always be true. But I felt so bad after my long day getting ready that not even my hot husband could get a rise out of me.

Sebastian got into the sleek, black sports car. We immediately got stuck in city traffic, and I ached to get out of the car. I didn’t want to be stuck in a confined space with Sebastian for longer than I had to be. I was already dreading spending the entire evening stuck at his side. I didn’t think I could sneak away for a moment, even to breathe.

Still, the downtown lights were beautiful. I caught the faces of people as we drove through, and they all seemed hopeful, happy. Some had guitars and carried a dream with them. Some were with partners, laughing without a care, softened by the illumination of the streetlights.

God, I wanted that. I wanted to be soft and carefree. Maybe if I were here on my own, as myself and not Sebastian’s wife, I could be like them. I could see the city and enjoy it.

Sebastian asked, “Have you not been downtown since we moved?”

I inelegantly replied, “Huh?”

“You just seem . . . entranced,” he said. “I’ve never seen you look at something like that.”

I glanced over at him. He was illuminated in the same light that everyone else was. His features looked so much softer than I was used to.

Maybe that was why I didn’t lie.

“I am.” Outside the window, a couple laughed. “I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s the amber of the streetlights, illuminating everyone in a softness that filters out their hard edges. Or maybe it’s that the people seem so genuinely happy. It isn’t like LA where everyone is angry that they’re trapped in the monotonous cycle of traffic, or where they’re all lurking around a corner in an attempt to spot a celebrity. It’s all so different.”

Sebastian was staring again, and my cheeks heated when I realized what I’d done. I’d slipped into writer Lily again.

My mother’s words, telling me to be shallow and hide the way I spoke, rang out in the silence.

“So, you like it here?” he asked. His voice wasn’t twisted with judgment. It was low. Kind.

“I like this. I don’t like that we had to uproot our entire lives on the whim of your father. These people . . . they have their happiness, their own lives.”

“And you don’t?”

I looked at him, eyes narrowed, because of course I didn’t own my life. I couldn’t have my hair look a certain way. I couldn’t gain weight. I couldn’t do anything I wanted to.

“This contract doesn’t own you,” he added.

I laughed miserably. “Then I don’t think you read my copy.”

“It couldn’t be that different than mine.”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. He really had no clue.

“So who are you then? Who do you want to be?” he asked. I hadn’t realized it before, but we were sitting still, the car in park. We hadn’t moved in a while.

“We’re going to be late,” I said, trying to dodge the question.

“But I want to know the answer.”

I sighed. “The person I am is not someone you’d like.”

“I’d like to make that decision myself.”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how to.

“You’ve been different here,” he said. “I’ve never heard you talk like this. You’re usually so . . .”

“Shallow?” I finished.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s like all you needed was the money and fame.”

I winced at his words, but I knew that the person he described was the one he married, the one I was pretending to be.

“Well, it’s like I said.” I looked at him flatly. “If you think that, then I’m doing my job.”

“What would you rather do?”

“Please don’t make me answer that question.” Because if I did, then there was no telling who would know the person I really was. The last thing I needed was my mother breaking me down into nothing, and not even having Jessie to build me up.

I’d had enough of that in my childhood.

Sebastian sighed. “Fine. Whatever you say.”

I closed my eyes, still somehow feeling wrong despite trying to do exactly what was expected of me. I exhaled a long, painful breath.

It didn’t do anything for my mood.

“Do you not want to go tonight?”

“Does it matter?” I asked.

“I guess it doesn’t,” Sebastian said, looking back at the wheel, “but if it helps, I don’t want to, either.”

I couldn’t be hearing that right.

“What?”

“I said I don’t want to go either.”

I wondered if he was toying with me, letting me believe we were in the same boat so he could tattle on me.

But in the mix of the soft light of the streetlights and illumination from the dazzling buildings, I saw that resigned misery in his gaze again.

And just as it was there, it was gone.

“But we have to,” he said, defeat still in his voice.

“Yes,” I whispered. “We do.”

He drove away from the curb, and we arrived at our destination in only a few minutes.

Sebastian climbed out of the car, his eyes forward, as if he was heading to the door. I sighed, figuring he was going inside without me, and I would have to hobble out of the car to attempt to catch up with him.

But he walked to the passenger door and opened it, extending a hand like a lifeline.

I took it.

It could have been a fake gesture of kindness, in case anyone was watching—it’d be weird to see a husband ditching his wife in the car and having her trying to race after him to put on a show for everyone.

But I hoped it was more than that, because it gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t yet had in Nashville.

I gripped Sebastian’s hand tightly, ignoring the shakiness I felt in my body. Apparently finding common ground with Sebastian was a shock to my nervous system.

I plastered on my model smile as we walked in. A few people took our photos, and I asked them to send it to me so I could post about this later.

As always, I was to be glued to Sebastian’s side. Our goal was to look in love, and the best way to do that was to always be together.

Besides, I wasn’t all that sure I could take this on my own.

A few employees introduced themselves to both of us. I nodded and smiled but knew I wouldn’t be able to remember any of their names. My head was in the clouds, and I found myself leaning more and more on Sebastian as the night went on.

I needed the energy to stand up straight, but I couldn’t find it in me. I wondered when he would tell me to get it together or to get off of him, but he never did.

“Pardon us,” he eventually said to the two new managers he’d been speaking to for a while. “I think the wife needs food.”

I went to shake my head and tell him I was fine, but one of the younger women laughed. “You should try some of the mini tacos, Lily. They’re amazing!”

I nodded and had to admit that the thought of any kind of food sounded perfect. I hadn’t eaten all day which had to be why I felt so out of it.

Sebastian pulled me away, but instead of going for the buffet of appetizers, he took me to a table.

My head spun as I sat, and by the time I reoriented myself, he was kneeling in front me, looking at me with concern I didn’t think he ever could hold for me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Was I hallucinating?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I whispered, even though it was a lie.

My feet were aching in my heels. My lower back hurt from sitting in a salon all day, not to mention my stomach’s angry growls for food.

Sebastian shook his head. “Don’t,” he said, but it wasn’t with malice. “I know you well enough to see when you’re not okay. Don’t try to deny it.”

I gulped. He didn’t look mad or disappointed, but I felt bad for not being my best self.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You’re right. I don’t feel well.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just ask that you let me help.”

“I’m . . .” Exhausted? In pain? Tired of being a human Barbie? “Hungry.”

“Okay, let me get you some food.”

“It should probably be a salad,” I muttered.

“Absolutely not. You’re swaying on your feet. You need something filling. How about the tacos?”

My stomach forced me to nod. I really wanted those tacos.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be right back.’

I watched him go, shocked at how focused he seemed. People tried to talk to him, but he never let them pull him into a conversation. His main focus was getting food and making his way back to me. He even brought a bottle of water .

I took all of it gratefully.

“Thank you,” I said.

He nodded, but someone swung by the table to talk to him. He glanced at me first, then led them away so I could eat in peace.

It was exactly what I needed.

When I was alone, I savored each bite, but also ate quickly. Being on my own like this didn’t look good, and I needed to be with my husband, pretending to be in love with him.

It was going to be easier after what he’d just done for me. After the entire night, actually.

But I really pushed myself too far this time, and it took far too long for me to get up. When I did, I knew I needed to check my makeup before I faced anyone else. My face was hot and probably oily. Even my top-of-the-line foundation couldn’t last forever.

When I got to the bathroom, I took out the powder from my small purse, blotting my face to rid it of any extra shine. My eyes looked dull and near black, which was a bit concerning, considering they were usually a chocolate brown.

I couldn’t do anything about that though.

I exited the ladies’ room, only to find someone waiting for me. The bathrooms were tucked away down a long corridor, which meant no one would see anything that went on.

A man leaned on the wall nearby. He had a shorter build with wide shoulders and light brown hair. I foolishly hoped he was waiting for his date.

When he saw me, he gave me a luring, daring smile.

My stomach sank. I knew where this was going.

I had been hit on before, even during my marriage. Sometimes it was by men who genuinely didn’t see the flashy ring on my finger. Other times, it seemed like men liked the challenge.

Hopefully, this guy was in the first category—just someone who thought I was hot and wanted to ask me out.

“Hi there,” the man said. “How are you?”

“Um, good. I’m here with my husband,” I said. “We’re having a great time.”

The guy didn’t even blink at the mention of Sebastian. He either knew or didn’t care.

“The tall boss guy?” he asked. “Yeah, I know him. He’s out working the floor while you’re back here alone.”

“That’s because he’s busy.”

“A girl like you deserves better than a man who is too busy for her,” he explained. “You’re the most gorgeous girl here.”

It was a nice compliment, but it was one I’d heard before. People loved me at my best, but never at my worst.

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I bet my husband is missing me by now.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

And honestly, on any other day, I would agree with him. But Sebastian had been kind tonight. The least I could do was be by his side like I was supposed to.

“My husband and I are very happy.”

“I can show you what it’s like when a real man is interested in you. Let me take you from here. I have a nice apartment downtown. You’ll love the views.”

“I’m not cheating on my husband,” I told him, indignation in my tone.

“I bet he is on you.”

My stomach lurched. Of course I knew that, but it wasn’t even like we slept in the same room. We weren’t really married. I was just prohibited from dating.

“He’s not,” I said firmly. My stomach was doing somersaults, and I knew I needed to leave as soon as I could.

But as I opened my mouth to say something else, Sebastian rounded the corner, looking left and right. When he saw me, his posture stiffened. He looked at the man I was with and then me.

He glared at us both, but it was mainly at me.

“Where have you been?” he hissed at me. “I turned around and you were gone.”

“I just went to the bathroom.”

“Oh, yes, because it definitely looks like you’re using the bathroom.”

“Hey,” the stranger said, “don’t talk to her like that.”

I’m sure it was supposed to be helpful, but it made everything worse.

Sebastian turned. “This is a private conversation.” He grabbed my arm with a firm grip and pulled me down the hallway. I went willingly, happy to be away from the man trying to get me to go with him.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” I said, pulling my arm out of his grip.

Sebastian kept walking and I followed. He avoided the party entirely, going outside near the back of the building.

Great. I was definitely getting yelled at.

“What were you thinking?”

“What?” I said, insulted. “For going to the bathroom?”

“For bringing him here.”

“Him? Who are you talking about?”

“The guy you’re seeing.”

I reared back. Sweat collected on my brow. “The guy I’m seeing?” I repeated. “What guy am I seeing?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to play dumb. I know you’re seeing someone.”

“What?” I asked again. “I haven’t been seeing anyone. I can’t.”

“I already know, Lily. You confirmed it the other night.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, feeling dizzy at the accusation. I tried to rack my brain to remember when we’d ever talking about me seeing someone.

Sebastian rubbed his face. He looked exhausted. “The night Heather brought your car here. You weren’t here for the entirety of the day. You’re never home. I told you to keep it away from our parents and then you brought him here? Are you insane?”

“Him?” I said, voice incredulous. “That guy near the bathrooms? I don’t even know him!”

“He followed you to the bathroom.”

“Yes, I’m aware he did that, considering he waited for me while I was making sure I looked okay. What—do you think I would bring someone I’m seeing, which is against my contract by the way, to a party where we’re obviously being watched? Do you think I’m that dumb?”

“The contract doesn’t forbid you from doing anything, and it’s almost over anyway. Why not get some other guy who isn’t tied down to work?”

“It is forbidden in my contract. You can read it. I can’t see anyone during this marriage, and you’re the one who can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“And I’m not the one talking to another man at my company party.” He hissed the last words.

My stomach felt unsteady, and it had to have been because of the fight. Sebastian and I rarely fought. We just ignored each other. I pressed on past my uneasiness.

“I don’t know him. He’s probably one of your new employees.”

“No, he isn’t. I know who will be working for me. I didn’t hire that man.”

“Then maybe Martin sent him to find holes in our story! Jesus, Sebastian, you can’t really think I’m that much of an idiot that I’d not only put my future at risk, but that I’d invite another man to a party where I am supposed to be seen with you?”

“That’s what I thought until I caught you two together.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but my ears were ringing. My head was spinning, and I felt the true state my body was now in.

I was freezing yet hot. I was covered in sweat despite the cool air. My hands were shaky, and my stomach was actually killing me. This wasn’t a reaction to a fight. This wasn’t anxiety.

I was about to throw up.

For real this time.

I was at least able to turn to the grass before I emptied the contents of my stomach.

In the back of my mind, I was kicking myself for letting Sebastian see this. He probably thought I was disgusting for losing it like this in public. But I couldn’t help it. My stomach was in knots, and it felt like the beginning of something worse.

“Lily?” Sebastian said, sounding genuinely worried.

“Fucking mini tacos,” I groaned, clutching my stomach.

“Are . . . are you done?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice wobbling. “God, my stomach is killing me.”

“Okay, we’re going home.”

“No,” I said as firmly as I could, “you’re supposed to be here.”

For a moment he looked conflicted. But then he shook his head. “Screw this. We both don’t want to be here, and I can just . . . post on social media that I’m taking care of you. People will eat that shit up.”

I thought about it, but my stomach protested, and I could only nod. I felt too terrible to argue.

Luckily I was able to hold back on throwing up in the car, but the minute we were back at the house, all bets were off. I ran to the bathroom and emptied my stomach once again.

I clenched myself afterwards, feeling some of the worst cramps I had ever experienced. My stomach felt like it was turning inside out.

A cool hand pressed against my head, and I almost jerked away.

“You’re burning up. How long have you been feeling bad?” Sebastian asked.

“It got worse when I went to check my makeup, but I’ve felt off all day.”

“What did you eat before the event?”

“Nothing.”

Sebastian stared at me. “You didn’t eat? At all?”

“I didn’t have time. I had to be at the salon, and then get my makeup done.” I groaned, both at the memory, and at my stomach. “I fucking hate dying my hair.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because my mom says I’m ugly if I’m not—” I froze and had to lunge for the toilet again. Whatever Sebastian was going to say was forgotten, and when I was done, he had grabbed a cool washcloth and pressed it against my forehead. I leaned into it, feeling too sick to turn away.

I felt terrible. This was worse than any hangover, and all I wanted to do was sleep for three days straight, but my stomach hurt too bad for me to be able to make it out of the bathroom.

I expected Sebastian to leave after a while. There wasn’t much he could do for me, and I knew it had to be gross to be around vomit.

But he stayed. He sat on the bathroom floor and held my hair back while I threw up. He got me water when I felt dehydrated, and he never once commented on how bad I must have looked.

Eventually, the vomiting ended, but I was a puddle on the floor. I felt like I had been through a flash freezer and then stuck into the sun. My body begged me for sleep. I would have been happy to sleep on the floor of the bathroom, but when Sebastian saw me dozing off, I swore he said, “Okay, up you go.”

And then I was off the floor.

I didn’t remember much after that, just the sounds of a soft voice and the comfort of my bed.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset