Dear Mr. Billionaire Our Marriage Is Just A Contract

Accidental Meeting with

n my simple dress, I am like a fish out of water among all these fancy whirling gowns. I look up at Noah, who seems deep in discussion with his business partners

ut it seems everyone has something to do, and they are all important. I take a deep breath

I hear that familiar laugh that sends chills down my spine. Slowly, I turn to my right, and my heart races-there he is: Elvis. He's there, talking w

other, incredulity hanging in the air between us. He approac

ce filled with incredulity. His eyes scan me, taking in the we

would hold my hand as if it were the most precious thing in the world. "Elvis

s face. "We were together, Rachel. Then you just disapp

a choice, Elvis. My father was sick, and I owed a debt." My words

em here, Rachel?" He stands there, towering and possessive. He puts a firm hand on my arm, a

life," he says, the ache in his voice cutting deep. The pain in his eyes feels

roat. Noah waits until Elvis disappears around a bend before turning to me. Irritation is etched on his feature

ad, but all that echoes is Elvis. I remember the moments we shared: the late-night talks, the dre

he always knew what to do to make me feel better. I remember him holding me close, as if I was something cher

ance my way. So insignificant. So unseen. Why does it feel like I traded one cage for another? I'm stuck i

st, where I am with Elvis, who values and cherishes me, and makes me feel happy. But here I am, pretending to be in love with Noah when I

him again? To see that smile? Would he even want to speak with me after how things went between us? A wave of longing

s just don't seem to settle in my heart

th. I know I couldn't ask Elvis; he doesn't have that, and I don't want him to keep stressing h

g me remember how we would have been