No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Conrad looked up at the sound of my voice, his gaze landing on my face.

I didn't need a mirror to know I must have looked pale.Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

"Not feeling well?" His brows furrowed slightly.

Silently, I walked to his desk, swallowing the bitter taste in my throat. "If you don't want to marry me, I can tell Jacqueline."

The wrinkles between Conrad's brows deepened. He knew I had overheard his conversation with Jefferson.

My throat felt salty. "I didn't expect to become an unwanted dish, Conrad..."

"In everyone's eyes, we're already husband and wife," Conrad interrupted.

So what? Was he marrying me for everyone else? I wanted him to marry me because he loved me and wanted to spend his life with me. With a snap, Conrad closed his pen, his gaze falling on the ID in my hand. "We'll go get the marriage license next Wednesday."

It was what I wanted to hear. But at that moment, it made me feel terrible.

I lowered my head, shaking it. "Conrad, you don't have to force yourself. I don't need your charity."

"Felicia!" Conrad called my name with a weighty tone.

I trembled, looking up to meet his impatient eyes as he reached out his hand toward me.

My grip tightened on the ID. His jaw clenched. "Give it to me."

I didn't move, the atmosphere tensing.

Seconds later, Conrad stood up, his tall figure looming over me, and he sighed lightly, a hint of resignation in his voice, "I was just joking with Jefferson. Did you take it seriously?"

Was it all just a joke?

"You know how men need to save face." His hand grasped my arm, then slid down to take my hand, pulling the ID away.

"Don't jump to conclusions in the future." Conrad turned, placed my ID in a drawer, and grabbed his jacket. "I need to step out."

Lately, he always seemed to be going out and would be gone for hours each time.

"Conrad," I called after him, "do you like me?"

Conrad stopped beside me, his sharp eyes looking onto mine. After a moment, he smiled, his dimple flashing briefly on his left cheek. Conrad had a beautiful smile, warm and inviting. When I first joined the Wagner family, he approached me with that smile, calling me, "Tittle one." That smile warmed me and made me fall for him hopelessly. Even at the time, I still loved his smile.

He gently ruffled my hair. "I do. Why else would I drive across the city to get you desserts, send you roses every birthday, watch meteor showers with you, and marry you?"

Every time I hesitated, a smile from Conrad and a few reassuring words would put me at ease. I was like a kite, with him firmly holding the string, controlling my emotions at his whim. But the words I had overheard still affected me.

This time, I wasn't as easy to soothe as before.

Looking into Conrad's eyes, I asked, "Is it the romantic feeling a man has for a woman?"

At that, the hand in my hair paused, and his smile faded. His hand dropped to my cheek, gently pinching "Don't overthink it. We'lkgo home together after work. You dike salmon, don't you? I had someone bring fresh salmon. I'll cook it for dinner."

He left, just like many times before, avoiding my questions. The scent of his hand cream lingered on my nose, his warmth still on my cheek, but my heart was cold. He was kind to me, pampered me, and liked me, but his affections felt more fraternal than romantic. Yet, my heart was entirely his, having adored him for ten years.

So, what should I do? Should I marry him and settle into a passionless life, as familiar with each other as an old married couple with no interest in intimacy? Or should I leave him, letting him find the spark that would excite his heart?