/0/90063/coverbig.jpg?v=98c68fc9424d4eb8e7a181cc4ba01bd9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
For five years, I was the perfect husband to a woman who didn't love me. It was a contract. I was hired to help the broken heiress, Jorja Romero, heal after her fiancé left her. In return, her family funded my art, but the price was my dream-a scholarship to study painting in Paris. With only two months left on our contract, the man she never got over came back. Overnight, the fragile peace we'd built vanished, and I became invisible. At dinner, a sizzling platter of fajitas fell towards her. I threw my arm out to block it, the scalding metal searing my skin. Jorja barely glanced at my blistering arm. Instead, she rushed to her ex-fiancé, Cale, panicking over a single drop of hot oil that had splattered on his finger. On my birthday a week later, she tossed me a tube of burn cream-the same one she'd obsessively bought for Cale's tiny red mark. At a party, she took the cufflinks she once gifted me and told Cale they'd look much better on him. I had spent five years memorizing her favorite foods, comforting her through nightmares, and being her constant, silent shadow. I thought my devotion might one day be enough. But I was wrong. I wasn't her husband; I was a placeholder. The night before her engagement party to Cale, she stumbled into my room, drunk. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine. Then she whispered the name that destroyed the last piece of my heart. "Cale... I missed you so much." In that moment, something inside me didn't just break; it was reborn in ice. The next morning, I handed her the divorce papers she would sign without reading, and booked my one-way ticket to Paris.
Chapter 1 No.1
For five years, I was the perfect husband to a woman who didn't love me. It was a contract. I was hired to help the broken heiress, Jorja Romero, heal after her fiancé left her. In return, her family funded my art, but the price was my dream-a scholarship to study painting in Paris.
With only two months left on our contract, the man she never got over came back. Overnight, the fragile peace we'd built vanished, and I became invisible.
At dinner, a sizzling platter of fajitas fell towards her. I threw my arm out to block it, the scalding metal searing my skin.
Jorja barely glanced at my blistering arm. Instead, she rushed to her ex-fiancé, Cale, panicking over a single drop of hot oil that had splattered on his finger.
On my birthday a week later, she tossed me a tube of burn cream-the same one she'd obsessively bought for Cale's tiny red mark. At a party, she took the cufflinks she once gifted me and told Cale they'd look much better on him.
I had spent five years memorizing her favorite foods, comforting her through nightmares, and being her constant, silent shadow. I thought my devotion might one day be enough. But I was wrong. I wasn't her husband; I was a placeholder.
The night before her engagement party to Cale, she stumbled into my room, drunk. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine.
Then she whispered the name that destroyed the last piece of my heart.
"Cale... I missed you so much."
In that moment, something inside me didn't just break; it was reborn in ice. The next morning, I handed her the divorce papers she would sign without reading, and booked my one-way ticket to Paris.
Chapter 1
The five-year contract was supposed to end in two months. Arvin Benjamin had counted the days.
For five years, he'd been a ghost in the Romero mansion. He held a cashmere coat, waiting for Jorja. The air was cold, as always in this house.
It was five years ago when Jorja Romero's mother, Elizebeth, had walked into his small studio. Arvin was just a scholarship kid from the city orphanage, but he'd just won a prestigious grant to study in Paris.
Elizebeth looked at the acceptance letter in his hand, then at the portrait he'd painted of her late husband-a gift of gratitude.
"Jorja is broken," Elizebeth had said, her voice flat, emotionless. "Her fiancé, Cale, left her. She won't eat. She won't leave her room. Be her husband, Arvin. For five years. Stay by her side until she forgets him. The family will continue to support your art. We will double it."
He remembered the weight of that choice. His future or his gratitude. He chose gratitude. He put his dream of Paris in a box and locked it away.
Now, five years later, Jorja descended the sweeping staircase. She wore a red dress that shimmered under the crystal chandelier. She looked beautiful and alive. For a moment, a flicker of warmth touched Arvin's chest. Maybe, after all this time...
Then he saw the look in her eyes. A frantic, almost feverish excitement he hadn't seen in years.
It wasn't for him.
"He's back, Arvin," she said, her voice a breathless whisper. "Cale's back."
The warmth in his chest vanished, leaving a hollow space.
"He's flying in tonight. We're having dinner at The Onyx."
She took the coat from his hands without looking at him, her focus already somewhere else, somewhere far away.
"Of course," Arvin said. His voice was steady. Practiced.
The car ride to The Onyx was thick with silence. Jorja stared out the window, a small, hopeful smile on her lips. Arvin kept his eyes on the road. He felt like a chauffeur. He had felt like a chauffeur for five years.
The Onyx was a place of hushed lights and quiet money. Cale Oneill was waiting at a corner table. He stood when they approached, handsome and confident, his smile easy. He looked Jorja up and down, a proprietary glimmer in his eyes.
"Jorja, you look stunning," Cale said, ignoring Arvin completely.
"Cale," she breathed, her hand going to her heart.
They embraced. It was a reunion of two people who believed they were the center of the universe. Arvin stood a few feet away, an attendant, a shadow.
Dinner was a performance. Cale spoke of his travels, his failed marriage, his decision to come home. Jorja listened, captivated, hanging on every word. She laughed at his jokes. She refilled his wine glass.
Arvin sat in silence. He ate his food. He watched them. He was a piece of furniture.
Suddenly, a waiter approached with a sizzling platter of fajitas. As he set it down, his hand slipped, and the hot iron skillet tilted, heading straight for Jorja.
Without thinking, Arvin moved. He put his own arm out, intercepting the scalding metal.
A searing pain shot up his arm. He bit back a cry, his jaw clenched tight. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.
"Oh my god!" the waiter stammered, horrified.
Jorja jumped back, her eyes wide. "Arvin!"
Cale looked annoyed. "What a mess."
The restaurant manager rushed over. Ice was brought. Apologies were made. Arvin's arm throbbed, a deep, agonizing burn. A large, red welt was already blistering on his skin.
"Are you alright?" Jorja asked, her concern feeling distant, obligatory.
"I'm fine," Arvin said through gritted teeth.
Just then, Cale let out a small hiss. "Damn."
Jorja's head snapped towards him. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"A bit of oil must have splattered," Cale said, holding up his hand. A tiny red mark, the size of a pinprick, was visible on his index finger. "It's nothing."
"Nothing?" Jorja's voice rose with alarm. She grabbed Cale's hand, inspecting it as if it were a mortal wound. "We need to get you some ice. A doctor. This could get infected."
She ignored Arvin's charred arm. She ignored the waiter holding a bag of ice for him. All her attention, all her worry, was focused on the tiny red dot on Cale Oneill's finger.
She fussed over Cale, her back turned to Arvin.
Arvin sat there, his arm on fire. The pain was immense, but it was nothing compared to the cold that was spreading through his chest, extinguishing the last embers of a five-year-long hope.
He looked at her, completely devoted to another man's trivial complaint while his own skin was blistering.
He had spent five years memorizing her favorite foods, the temperature she liked her bath, the way she took her coffee. He had held her when she had nightmares about Cale. He had been her rock, her constant, her shadow.
And he was nothing.
He quietly took the bag of ice from the waiter. He pressed it to his arm. The shock of the cold was sharp, but it was clear.
In that moment, he knew. The contract was already over. It had been over before it ever began.
He needed to leave. Not in two months. Now.
He watched Jorja doting on Cale, and he made a decision. A quiet, final decision.
He would get the divorce papers drafted tomorrow. He would end this himself.
/0/65656/coverorgin.jpg?v=bca7a26f976b281a1ac0e8d986049347&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90059/coverorgin.jpg?v=5be6b24af173f242b0e7908e8ed31b35&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/89418/coverorgin.jpg?v=c8a284b804b29a679b1f71c65d4775df&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90053/coverorgin.jpg?v=88220acd0a86264b6a25dbb913e458b5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90067/coverorgin.jpg?v=bc527f7b6209619620f00b9d4d2881cf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/58462/coverorgin.jpg?v=c904a3bf996c158618a00e307a5a1398&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/57974/coverorgin.jpg?v=4cffdff30049750c891b34cef6da7db8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/68171/coverorgin.jpg?v=8d037cc277a14aeeb9a729f9bbd42770&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81650/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e4487b5edd0ed017fe09f8ca0166339&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85678/coverorgin.jpg?v=6a207a63cd0a42212d96a5e751493e4f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/61795/coverorgin.jpg?v=b30cbfd63b4a13c548a5c05cf867c133&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/60498/coverorgin.jpg?v=62dcb7be9563dc3a710aa1e248de0ea9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Chapter 1 No.1
22/08/2025
Chapter 2 No.2
22/08/2025
Chapter 3 No.3
22/08/2025
Chapter 4 No.4
22/08/2025
Chapter 5 No.5
22/08/2025
Chapter 6 No.6
22/08/2025
Chapter 7 No.7
22/08/2025
Chapter 8 No.8
22/08/2025
Chapter 9 No.9
22/08/2025
Chapter 10 No.10
22/08/2025
Chapter 11 No.11
22/08/2025
Chapter 12 No.12
22/08/2025
Chapter 13 No.13
22/08/2025
Chapter 14 No.14
22/08/2025
Chapter 15 No.15
22/08/2025
Chapter 16 No.16
22/08/2025
Chapter 17 No.17
22/08/2025
Chapter 18 No.18
22/08/2025
Chapter 19 No.19
22/08/2025
Chapter 20 No.20
22/08/2025
Chapter 21 No.21
22/08/2025
Chapter 22 No.22
22/08/2025
Chapter 23 No.23
22/08/2025
Chapter 24 No.24
22/08/2025
Chapter 25 No.25
22/08/2025
Chapter 26 No.26
22/08/2025
Chapter 27 No.27
22/08/2025
Chapter 28 No.28
22/08/2025
Chapter 29 No.29
22/08/2025
Chapter 30 No.30
22/08/2025
Other books by Rabbit
More