10| Moving In

Sophie stood in front of Ethan's luxurious house, her heart pounding so loudly she was convinced it would echo off the towering iron gates.

The house was even grander than she had imagined—tall windows, intricate ironwork, and an effortless elegance that made her feel impossibly small.

Out of place.

Steeling herself, she reached out and rang the doorbell. Moments later, the door swung open, and there he was.

Ethan stood in the doorway, dressed in casual clothes, the kind that somehow made him look even more effortlessly handsome.

Her brain fizzled. She was staring. No, worse.

She was drooling.

"Are you coming in, or...?" Ethan's amused tone cut through her thoughts, jolting her into the present.

Sophie blinked, heat rushing to her cheeks as she scrambled for words. "Oh! Yes, of course. Hi, Ethan."

His crooked smile deepened, pure amusement dancing in his eyes.

She winced. Hi, Ethan? That's the best she could do?

Hurriedly, she stepped inside, desperate to compose herself. The moment she crossed the threshold, her breath hitched.

The house was overwhelming.

Its interior was like something out of a magazine. High ceilings stretched above marble floors, and every piece of décor spoke of wealth and refinement. She clutched the strap of her suitcase tighter, as the differences between their lives settled heavily on her shoulders.

Ethan closed the door behind her and gestured toward the grand staircase. "I don't have much time, but I'll give you a quick tour. Most of the rooms are unused, so feel free to use any you'd like. Cleaning staff comes weekly, but if you want them to stay out of certain spaces, just leave a note for them at the entryway."

Sophie nodded, trying to absorb it all as Ethan led her through the house. Room after room revealed more of the opulence she felt so foreign to.

Finally, they reached a bedroom at the end of the hall. Ethan opened the door to reveal a large, beautifully furnished space. Soft cream walls, a bed adorned with plush pillows, and a view of the city skyline that took her breath away.

"This will be your room," Ethan said, his tone polite but distant. "I hope it's comfortable."

Sophie nodded, clutching the handle of her suitcase. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Ethan glanced at his watch. "I need to get back to work. If you need anything, just let me know."

"Of course," Sophie replied, watching as he left. His footsteps echoed down the hallway, leaving her alone in the silence of the unfamiliar space.

She let out a quiet sigh and set her suitcase down, taking a moment to gather herself. The reality of the situation was starting to settle in. she busied herself unpacking, arranging her belongings to make the room feel more like hers.

She placed a photo of her family on the dresser, a small vase of fresh flowers from the shop on the bedside table, and a few of her favorite books on the shelf. Anything to make this place feel a little more like home.

As she wandered through the house, Sophie found herself drawn to the study. It had been part of Ethan's brief tour, but she couldn't help wondering what kind of space he surrounded himself with—the place where he made his decisions, where he spent so much of his time.

Pushing the door open slightly, she spotted Ethan behind a large mahogany desk, his focus completely absorbed by the computer in front of him. For a moment, she simply watched—the way his brow furrowed in concentration, how his strong hands moved with precision as he worked.

Then, as if sensing her presence, Ethan glanced up, his sharp blue eyes locking with hers. "Sophie. Do you need something?"

She hoped he hadn't noticed her obvious staring. But who was she kidding? Since the wedding, just being around him felt like navigating uncharted territory.

She stepped inside hesitantly, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, I was just exploring... and kind of stumbled in here," she said, her voice light and playful—maybe a little too playful. Not even he could resist that, right?

His tone softened slightly. "I'm glad you're getting comfortable."

Sometimes, she hated how polite he was. It felt distant, like there was always an invisible wall between them.

Her eyes drifted to the tall bookshelves lining the walls. "Would you mind if I looked around your office?"

Ethan leaned back in his chair, gesturing with a casual wave of his hand. "Go ahead."

Sophie wandered closer, running her fingers lightly over the spines of the books. The collection was vast and intimidating, a mix of legal volumes, business journals, and a few titles she couldn't immediately place. She whispered to herself, "I always wondered what kind of books you liked."

"Mostly dry, boring ones," Ethan said, his voice unexpectedly warm, making her heart skip. She looked up to find him watching her with a faint smile.

She smiled back, but the moment was short-lived. As her fingers brushed a particularly heavy volume, the shelf gave a dangerous wobble. Before she could react, books began tumbling down. A gasp escaped her lips.

Ethan was there in an instant, his arms shielding her as he pressed her against the bookshelf. The cascade of books hit his back, but he didn't flinch, his body a solid barrier between her and the chaos.

Sophie's heart raced as the realization of how close they were settled over her. His arms were still around her, his breath warm against her skin. Slowly, her gaze drifted up to his face, their eyes locking in the quiet space between them. Their breaths mingled, close enough to feel the tension crackle like electricity in the air.

Just like their wedding day.

But this time, there was no officiant prompting them, no audience watching. It was just them.

What would it feel like to close the gap?

The thought hit her like a bolt of lightning, leaving her breathless in a way that had nothing to do with the falling books.

Ethan was the first to pull away. His arms dropped, his expression a mix of concern and something else—something unreadable, tangled with frustration. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she stammered, her voice shaky. "But you—are you hurt? Oh my God, Ethan, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." He ran a hand through his hair, his voice softening. "The shelf's been unstable for a while. I should've fixed it."

Sophie bit her lip, guilt twisting in her chest. "I shouldn't have touched anything."

"Just... be careful next time," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

As she left the study, her thoughts were a whirlwind. She couldn't believe her clumsiness, and worse, she couldn't believe how much she had liked being close to him. She couldn't shake the memory of his arms around her or the way his eyes had locked onto hers, even for just a moment.

She let out a shaky breath as she returned to her room. Ethan had warned her not to have expectations, and she needed to remember that.

One thing was clear: if she didn't find a way to control her feelings, this arrangement was going to be much harder than she'd imagined.

*********

The next morning, Sophie sat across from Ethan at the long dining table. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, bathing the room in warmth. The breakfast spread was beautiful yet impersonal—fresh fruit, delicate pastries, and perfectly brewed coffee—but it felt more like a hotel buffet than a home.

Ethan glanced up from his coffee, his sharp blue eyes briefly meeting hers. "Did you sleep well?"

She nodded quickly, masking her exhaustion with a polite smile. "Yes."

Lie. She hadn't slept well at all. She'd tossed and turned all night, staring at the ceiling, trying to find comfort on a mattress that probably cost more than most she owned, sleep felt impossible.

"Oh, yeah, I didn't get to see your room yesterday," Sophie blurted, immediately feeling foolish. Why was she acting like his house was some kind of museum, and his room the popular attraction?

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "It's right across from yours. You can visit anytime you like."

"Really? You're not going to do that thing where you say, 'You're forbidden from going in there'?"

Ethan looked at her, puzzled. "Why would I say that?"

"You know... like in the movies," she muttered, realizing how ridiculous she sounded. "Or The Lion King... 'Everything the light touches is yours.'"

A rare smile tugged at the corner of Ethan's mouth. "Sophie, this is real life. You can go wherever you like."

Her laughter echoed softly through the dining room, surprising both of them. For a brief moment, the conversation felt warm, easy—even comfortable.

But then Ethan set his coffee cup down, his expression shifting. "We do need to discuss ground rules."

Rules. And just like that, the warmth evaporated.

"We really need to go over schedules," he continued, his tone brisk. "I'm often busy with work and keep late hours. Don't wait up for me at night."

Don't wait up for him at night. She tucked the mental note away, ignoring the sting that accompanied it.

"Sharing meals—I can't commit to that, whether breakfast or dinner."

Another note: No breakfast or dinners. She'd never eaten alone in her life—between her mom and Lily, there was always someone at the table. She didn't like the sound of it, but she didn't want to beg him to share a table with her.

Ethan exhaled, like he was already tired of this conversation. "Since I've laid out my own rules, do you have any you want me to know?"

"I don't really have any," she admitted, her voice soft. "But... I do have something we could compromise on."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"Make time to do something with me," Sophie suggested, choosing her words carefully.

It wasn't a demand. It wasn't even much of a request. Just... a small hope.

Ethan studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slight nod, he agreed. "Once a week."

Sophie blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't expected him to agree so easily. "Thank you, Ethan. We'll have fun, I promise."

But his expression hardened almost immediately, as if giving in had unsettled him. "Don't expect too much," he warned, his voice cool. "I'm not interested in playing house."

His words hit harder than she expected. They were uncalled for, sharp in a way that felt unnecessary. She wasn't interested in playing house either. But in that moment, whatever fragile hope she had clung to—the hope that they might build something real—began to slip through her fingers.

The conversation shifted to practical matters—household responsibilities, financial arrangements, and social obligations. Sophie tried to stay focused, but somewhere along the way, she checked out. Her heart wasn't in it anymore.

Ethan's voice pulled her back. "I asked you this before," he said quietly, his tone deliberate. "What do you want from me in this marriage, Sophie?"

The question hung in the air, heavier this time.

Sophie hesitated, letting the words form in her mind before she finally spoke.

"I guess..." She took a deep breath, her voice soft but steady. "I don't expect us to be friends or lovers, but... let's not be strangers, okay?"

******

Ethan didn't say anything.

Not what she wanted to hear, at least.

The quiet that followed her words felt louder than any rejection. She wasn't sure what she had expected—an apology, maybe, or a promise to meet her halfway. But instead, his silence settled over them like a weight, as though her words hadn't even reached him.

For the first time, Sophie wondered if not being strangers was already too much to hope for.

-------

Photo credit: Pinterest

Don't forget to vote and leave a comment

🩷🩷