His for a year. - Chapter 37: Chapter 37

I sat curled up on the chaise by the window, my fingers wrapped around a cup of untouched tea, now cold. My thoughts were tangled, messy—like the feelings in my chest. Somewhere along the line, I had become the unwilling centre of a love triangle. Zade. Ray. Two men I didn't ask to care for. Two men I didn’t know how to stop thinking about.
But did either of them truly see me?
Before I could drown in that spiral again, my phone rang. I flinched, grabbed it off the armrest.
Aliyah.
A rare panic flushed through me.
"Hello?" I answered quickly.
Her voice was shaky, breathless—like she'd just been slapped with something she couldn't process. "O...Olive?"
"Aliyah, what is it? What's wrong?"
"Tell me it’s not true," she whispered, then her voice cracked. "Please. Tell me it’s a lie."
My stomach sank. "What are you talking about?"
She sniffled. "Your marriage to Zade. That it’s... a contract. That it’s fake." Her words felt like shards of glass against my ears. "Why, Olive? Why would you do something like that?"
My chest constricted. I stood up from the chaise, pacing. "Aliyah... who told you this?"
She didn’t answer that. “You made me believe it was real. All of us. And you never even told me.”
“I—” I swallowed hard. “I didn’t have a choice.”
"Didn’t have a choice?" Her voice rose, broken and angry. "You married someone and didn’t think I deserved to know the truth? I’m your sister!”
I felt the tears threatening behind my eyes. “I was trying to protect you. And Mom.”
“You should’ve told me,” she said. "You should've told someone. Instead of lying to me!"
There was silence.
I didn't know what to say. How to defend myself. What to say to prove I didn't mean any harm. I did lie. A lot of times.
Then she hung up.
I stood frozen in the room, the dial tone still echoing in my head. My hand dropped to my side, phone slipping to the floor with a soft thud.
Anna. It had to be her. She’d gone that far. But for what? Revenge? Jealousy? Or just to watch me burn?
Or Amanda? What could Anna possibly have given her? Promised her? Said to her?
Rage and guilt wrestled in my chest. I wiped my eyes quickly and stormed out of the room, searching for Zade. I found him in the lounge, reading something on his iPad.
“I need to go out,” I said flatly.
He looked up, blinked once. “No.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “No?”
“You’re not leaving this house right now, Olive.”
“Just no? Why?” My voice laced in disbelief.
He looked up at me again, then let out a soft mocking chuckle.
“Because I said so.”
My lips parted, but nothing came out. A storm raged in my head, a scream trapped in my throat.
I turned on my heels and left.
The walls of my room felt smaller than ever. The air too thick. My heart was splintering, and I didn’t know how to hold myself together anymore. How did everything unravel this quickly?
Tears blurred my vision. I grabbed a small glass trinket off the dresser and flung it across the room. It shattered against the wall. I didn’t feel better.
I wanted to scream, to disappear, to hit something until the ache in my chest dulled.
I reached for the sharpest thing I could find.
Just one scratch, I thought. Maybe it’ll stop the burning inside.
My hand trembled as I held the metal lid of my body mist.
Then the door slammed open.
"Olive!" Ray’s voice was sharp, urgent.
I froze.
He crossed the room in seconds and snatched the lid from my hand. His eyes were wide with fury and fear.
“What the hell are you doing?” he barked.
I backed away from him, ashamed and sobbing now.
He looked at me—really looked at me—and I could see how broken he felt seeing me like this. He exhaled, ran a hand through his hair, and stepped closer.
“Don’t you ever,” his voice dropped, almost trembling, “ever do that to yourself again. I don’t care how hurt you are.”
I covered my face with my hands. “I didn’t mean to— I just... I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”
He pulled me into his chest, not saying a word. Just holding me — firm and steady.
I slowly pulled away from his embrace. “I’m fine. Sorry for bothering you.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “Please… I’d like to be alone.”
His hands lingered on my shoulders.
“Are you better now?” he asked softly. “You won’t do that again, right?” His voice was low, but his eyes were loud with worry.
I nodded lazily, unable to form any words.
He then stood, hesitating like he didn’t want to leave, then finally stepped back and clicked the door shut behind him — gently.
The second he was gone, I reached for my phone like I’d been holding my breath.
I dialed Aliyah’s number. It rang and rang… but she didn’t answer.
I tried again. Then again. And again.
Nothing.
She didn’t want to talk to me. And that broke something inside me — something fragile and desperate.
Zade wouldn’t let me leave the house, and now Aliyah wouldn’t even pick up. I was completely cut off.
Then, rage. Pure, crashing rage flooded my chest.
I dialed Amanda next.
I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. I just needed to hear why.
Why she was doing this to me.
Why she chose to watch me fall apart.
Why she dug a grave where she could have planted flowers.
But the call didn’t go through. I tried again. Once. Twice. Thrice.
Still nothing.
And then it hit me.
Was this why she warned me to tell Aliyah “before it’s too late”? Had she planned this?
I was spiraling, consumed by one question that wouldn’t leave my mind:
Why, Amanda?
I kept calling Aliyah. I left her texts, voicemails, DMs — desperate fragments of apology, confusion, fear.
Still… silence.
Night fell without my notice. I requested dinner in my room, and the chef brought it up quietly. I barely touched the food. My stomach was too knotted to eat.
Somehow, I fell asleep earlier than I thought I would.
When morning came, the first thing I did was call Aliyah again.
Still no answer.
I sat there in the stillness, phone clutched in my hand, until a soft knock broke the silence.
It was Ray. Again.
I opened the door and let him in. He didn’t shut it behind him — he stood too close, as if unsure whether to enter or leave.
“How are you today?” he asked, scanning my face like he could read the truth in it.
I didn’t know how to answer, so I just nodded.
He stood there quietly for a moment. One minute. Maybe two. The silence stretched.
Then — like a storm through a still sky — Zade walked in without knocking, like he’d been invited.
I stiffened.
Zade’s gaze went straight to Ray. Cold. Direct.
“Why were you in her room last night?” he asked.
Ray straightened slowly, calmly. No apology in his posture. Just quiet defiance.
“Because you weren’t,” he said.
Shock was visible on my face instantly. I wasn’t sure what surprised me more — Ray’s words, or how sharp and deliberate they sounded.
Even Zade seemed caught off guard. His hands left his pockets, and he let out a short, uncomfortable laugh.
Low. Dangerous.
“Get out.”
Ray didn’t move.
“I said, get out,” Zade growled.
Ray looked at me before leaving. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue further. The door closed behind him with a dull click.
I kept my head down, my hands fidgeting with the hem of my robe, my throat dry and heavy.
Zade’s shoes creaked against the floor as he walked in. Slow. Controlled. He stopped a few feet away.
“Why?” he asked.
It wasn’t tender. It wasn’t warm. It was cold, clipped, like he was trying to make sense of a malfunctioning part of a machine.
“Because I was angry,” I muttered. “Because I’m tired of being silenced and locked in and treated like I don’t matter.”
“You do matter.”
“Do I?” I scoffed, finally lifting my eyes to him. “You wouldn't even let me leave the house. Like you own me.”
“I own you.” His deep voice sent chills to my spine. “I told you from the beginning what this was,” he said. “You agreed to it.”
My chest burned. “I agreed to marry you, not to give up my life.”
He exhaled sharply and took a step closer, but I flinched. He noticed and stopped short.
“I didn’t know you were this… unstable,” he said, quieter now.
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, voice shaking. “You think because you wear a suit and hide your feelings behind money and power, you’re the stable one?”
He didn’t respond. His jaw tensed, eyes narrowing.
There was a long silence. And then, more softly, he spoke.
“Don’t do that again.”
It wasn’t a request. Not a plea. A command, laced with something buried. Fear, maybe.
“Don’t throw tantrums just because I didn’t let you go on a play date.”
I looked away, swallowing the sting in my throat.
Without another word, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
I still wanted to ask. To beg him, even — to let me go see my sister. But my lips felt sealed shut. Heavy with fear.
At that moment, I hated myself.
Hated how small I felt.
Hated how scared I was of Zade… when my relationship with my sister was hanging by a thread.
I was still in bed, curled into myself as if that would shut out the world. My thoughts were spiraling—Aliyah’s silence, Amanda’s betrayal, and Anna’s ever-looming manipulation. Each engraved a bruise in my heart. Each memory, a fresh wound.
Then the door opened without a knock.
Zade walked in, dressed in black t-shirt, with cream trousers. His cream coat draped perfectly over his broad shoulders, hair styled like he had somewhere important to be. Not here. Not with me.
He didn't say a word as he crossed the room with casual entitlement and sat at the edge of my bed. Not beside me—just there, close enough to make the air shift.
I sat upright slowly, confusion tightening in my chest.
He pulled out his phone, thumb scrolling through something I couldn’t see. His face was blank, unreadable.
Then, mid-scroll, he said, “Go shower and change. I’m taking you to where you wanted to go yesterday.”
My breath caught. I stared at him.
He didn’t look up.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said carefully, voice low.
Aliyah’s... she was not going to stay calm if she saw him. I didn't want that to happen.
He finally met my gaze, eyes sharp and unflinching. “I’m not asking for your suggestions. I said get dressed. I’m waiting.”
There was no heat in his tone. No anger. Just finality. Like he’d already made peace with whatever explosion might come.
I got up slowly, deliberately, trying to see if he’d grow impatient and leave.
He didn’t.
He leaned back against the bedframe, crossed one leg over the other, and went right back to scrolling. Patient. Still. Like an infuriating brand of stubborn that wore a designer wristwatch and smirked at chaos.
I showered. Dressed. Combed through my hair with trembling fingers and slipped into jeans and a neutral top. Something I wouldn’t mind crying in. Just in case.
He didn’t say a word as we walked to the car. The silence wasn’t heavy this time—it was just... present. Like music with no lyrics.
We got in, and he started the engine.
Halfway through the drive, his voice broke the quiet.
“I wish I had someone like that,” he said.
I blinked. “What?”
“A sibling,” he said, eyes on the road. “Someone who’d throw tantrums if they didn’t see me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even know what he meant by telling me.
So I looked out the window instead, resting my head against the glass, as my thoughts dissolved into dread. Because Zade didn’t know what he was walking into. And Aliyah wasn’t the type to filter her anger.
This was going to be a disaster. And I wasn't ready for it yet.
“Please…” I said softly, keeping my voice steady. “Can you wait here? Or maybe… send someone to come get me later?”
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stepped out of the car and began walking toward the gate like I hadn't said a word.
I climbed out after him, my heart thumping as I hurried behind. Without looking at me, he waited as I typed in the passcode. The gate clicked, and I pushed it open.
Jake was the one who met us at the door.
“Jake,” I said with a small, awkward smile. “Hi.”
His eyes flicked to Zade behind me, then back to me. His expression was tight. Distant.
Zade, as calm as ever, extended a hand. “Congratulations,” he said. “On your relationship with Aliyah.”
Jake didn’t take the hand. He gave a small nod instead and said coolly, “She’s upstairs.”
Zade didn’t seem fazed, but I could feel the tension radiating off both of them.
I turned to the stairs immediately, muttering a quiet thanks. My palms were already sweating.
I reached Aliyah’s room and knocked softly. “Aliyah? It’s me.”
No answer.
I knocked again. “Please. Just talk to me.”
Still nothing.
I stood there for a moment, feeling useless, before slowly turning the knob and pushing the door open.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her back to the door. Her shoulders were tense, like she'd been bracing herself for this moment all night.
“Aliyah…” I stepped in, the door clicking shut behind me. “Please look at me.”
She didn’t move.
I walked a little closer, until I was near enough to see the way her jaw clenched.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know I should’ve told you. I know I messed up. But I never wanted to hurt or lie to you—”
She cut me off, her voice sharp. “But you did.”
I closed my eyes.
“I didn’t know how to explain it,” I said. “I-I was protecting you.”
“You don’t get to say that.” She turned to face me then, her eyes swollen and furious. “You don’t get to say you were protecting me when you were lying to my face.”
“I was trying to fix everything!” I cried. “You don’t understand, Aliyah! I didn’t do this for fun, or because I wanted to—I did it because I had to. Because Mom—”
“Because Mom is sick?!” she snapped. “Do you think I forgot that? You think I’ve been sleeping peacefully every night while you carry the whole world on your back?”
“I didn’t want you to carry it,” I said softly. “That’s why I did what I did.”
“And you didn’t think I had the right to know?” Her voice broke. “You didn’t think I deserved to even be part of the decision? You just handed yourself over to that—” She stopped herself, biting her lip. “That man.”
“Don’t talk about him like that.”
She stood up now, anger rising like a storm. “Why? Because he owns you now? You can’t even speak for yourself anymore, Olive. He decides where you go, who you see—he’s turned you into a stranger.”
“I’m still me!” I shouted back. “I’m still your sister!”
“No, you’re not!” she fired. “You’re not the Olive who used to tuck me in and promise everything would be okay. You’re not the Olive who protected me from Dad. You’re someone else now. Someone who lies. Someone who’s scared of the man she sleeps beside.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. “I did all of this for you, Aliyah! You think it was easy marrying someone I barely knew? Living with him? Lying to his family? Hiding everything I feel? I’ve been torn apart, and you—you won’t even talk to me.”
“I’m angry because I love you!” she screamed. “Because I hate that you had to do all this alone! And I hate myself for not seeing the signs. For not being there when you needed someone.”
There was a pause.
We both stood there, breathing hard. Shaking.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to break us.”
She wiped her eyes and sat down on the bed again, burying her face in her hands.
“I would’ve helped, Olive,” she said through her tears. “I would’ve done anything. I could’ve gotten a job… dropped out for a bit. Anything but this.”
“I know,” I whispered, tears streaming now. “But I didn't want you to. I am the strong one.”
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
Then we heard a voice downstairs—Zade’s.
Aliyah’s entire face got filled with rage and anger immediately.