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Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 44: Family Photo
Chapter 44: Family Photo
Matthew
"MATTY!" Hailey yells from across the room.
I grin as I stride toward my sister. Hailey is always so loud and lively. It was never a dull moment growing up with her.
"I’ve missed you so freaking much!" she cries again and throws her arms at me.
"I missed you too, Hailey. Happy Birthday," I say as I hug her back.
"Thank you. I am so glad you came. I thought you’d forget about it!" she breathes.
I shake my head. "Why would I forget? You are my only sister, Hailey. How old did you turn again? Sixteen?" I tease.
She rolls her eyes. "I just turned nineteen. Gosh, Matty, you are so lame!"
I chuckle and ruffle her hair. "I’m just messing with you. Nineteen, huh? You’re officially an adult now. Watch out, world."
Hailey gives me a playful shove, and I stumble a little. "You’re the worst," she laughs and looks at Sarah. "Hey, Sarah!" she chirps and goes to give her a hug too.
I watch Sarah smile as she hugs her back. "Hey, Hailey. We got you a present," she says as she hands Hailey a nicely wrapped present.
Hailey’s eyes light up as she takes the gift from Sarah. "You didn’t have to! But I’m not complaining." She carefully unwraps it, her fingers flying over the paper, barely able to contain her excitement. As the paper falls away, she gasps.
"Is this a vintage camera? So cool!" she exclaims.
Sarah nods, her smile wide. "Yep! I thought you’d love it."
Hailey’s face lights up even more, and she hugs Sarah tightly. "This is amazing, Sarah! You know me too well. I’ve wanted one of these for ages! It’s perfect. Thank you so much!"
I watch the exchange between Sarah and Hailey. My sister turns the vintage camera over in her hands, examining every detail with the enthusiasm only Hailey can muster. Sarah stands there, her face illuminated by Hailey’s joy.
And despite myself—despite everything—I can’t tear my eyes away from Sarah’s smile.
It transforms her entire face, reaching all the way to her green eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. The soft dimple on her left cheek deepens, and her normally plain features brighten. She looks radiant and free.
I hate how beautiful she looks when she’s happy. I hate that I notice.
Sarah tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her earrings—tiny silver stars I’ve never seen before—catching the light.
I clear my throat. "Let’s go inside. Where is Mom and Dad?"
Hailey looks up from her new camera, still grinning. "They’re in the kitchen, I think. Dad’s probably already trying to sneak some cake before it’s cut," she says with a roll of her eyes.
Sarah glances at me, her smile fading just a bit. I try to hide it, but I’m sure she saw me staring. I quickly turn toward the kitchen, hoping to shake off the feeling of being caught.
"Come on, guys," Hailey continues, her excitement bouncing back to the surface.
I nod and follow her toward the kitchen, trying to ignore the way Sarah’s smile is still lingering in my mind.
The moment I step into the kitchen, I find my dad, exactly as Hailey predicted—sneaking a forkful of cake when no one’s looking.
"Really, Dad?" I say, grinning.
He looks up with a sheepish smile and sets the fork down quickly. "I was just making sure it’s up to standard," he says with a wink.
Hailey laughs and takes a seat at the table. "Yeah, sure. Quality control, right?"
Mom walks in just then, her arms crossed with a teasing expression. "Put down the fork, Andrew," she says to my father, but there’s affection in her tone. "Let Hailey have her moment. It’s her birthday."
"Agreed," I say, settling into a chair next to Hailey.
Mom offers a warm smile to Sarah. "How are you doing, sweetheart?" she asks her.
Sarah smiles back. "I’m good, thank you for asking." Her voice is soft, but there’s a pleasant calmness to it.
"Did you two have a good time on your honeymoon?" Dad asks, his mouth still full of stolen cake.
"Andrew! Don’t talk with your mouth full!" she scolds him as if he is a teenage boy.
Dad swallows quickly, a sheepish grin on his face as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Sorry."
I settle into my chair, watching my parents’ playful exchange. Mom’s mock sternness dissolves into laughter as Dad pulls her close for a quick side hug, planting a kiss on her temple.
She pretends to resist for all of two seconds before leaning into him, her hand automatically finding his. It’s such a small gesture—the way their fingers intertwine without either of them even looking—but it speaks volumes.
"The honeymoon was..." I start, then falter. Sarah jumps in.
"It was beautiful. The beach was perfect," she offers, her voice smooth and practiced. "The sunsets were incredible."
I nod in agreement, but my attention drifts back to my parents. Dad is now helping Mom bring out plates for the cake, moving around her in the kitchen with the synchronized rhythm of two people who have shared the same space for decades.
They barely speak—they don’t need to.
Twenty-seven years of marriage, and they still move like dancers sharing the same music only they can hear. Now, I understand what I was seeing: two people who chose each other every day in a thousand tiny ways.
Something I couldn’t do with my own wife.
"Earth to Matthew!" Hailey waves her hand in front of my face. "You’re spacing out."
"Sorry," I mumble, straightening in my chair.
Sarah glances at me from across the table, a sad look in her eyes. She is probably thinking the same thing as I am.
I quickly avert my gaze, focusing on the cake in front of me.
Hailey laughs, oblivious to the tension, and digs into her slice of cake. "You’ve got to stop doing that, Matty. It’s like you’re in another world sometimes."
"Just tired," I say, forcing a smile.
Thankfully, the rest of the night goes by fast with laughter and fun. Sarah spends most of her time with Hailey and my mom, gossiping about mundane things and I spend time with my dad.
Dad and I stand by the grill, the smell of charcoal and grilled corn filling the evening air. He’s telling me about his latest woodworking project—a hand-carved jewelry box for Mom’s birthday next month—while I absently push around the coals with a poker, watching the orange embers flare and dance.
"You need to make sure you’re using a chisel with the right bevel angle," he explains, his hands moving to demonstrate. "Otherwise, you’ll end up with splinters all over the—"
Then I hear it—Sarah’s laugh. Not the polite, restrained chuckle she uses in public, but her real laugh. The one that bubbles up from somewhere deep and unguarded, the one that comes out when she forgets to be careful.
Despite myself, my eyes find her across the yard. She’s sitting with Mom and Hailey on the patio, her head thrown back, one hand pressed against her chest as if trying to contain the joy spilling out of her.
I’m barely listening to my dad now. My eyes are on her.
"Matthew?" Dad’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
I blink, suddenly aware that I’ve been staring. "Sorry, what?"
"The burgers," he says, gesturing to the grill. "They’re about to burn."
I quickly flip them, cursing under my breath. "Sorry, got distracted."
Dad gives me a long look, the kind that makes me feel like I’m seventeen again, coming home past curfew. "She is a good one, huh?"
"Who?" I ask, trying to sound casual.
Dad laughs. "Sarah, your wife, Matthew," he says, his voice low but knowing.
I clear my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yeah, I guess," I say quietly, flipping the burgers with more force than necessary.
Dad watches me for a moment longer, then gives a small nod. "You don’t realize what you have sometimes until it’s too late."
I chuckle dryly. "Why are you telling me this, Dad?"
He shrugs. "Hey, no reason. Just stating the fact and making sure you don’t take her for granted."
He doesn’t know what kind of person Sarah really is. That’s why he is saying these things, I think to myself.
"Right," I say, giving a half-nod. "Dad, can I ask you something?"
"What’s up, Bud?" he asks.
"How come you guys accepted Sarah so easily?"
Dad raises his eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean? Why wouldn’t we?"
"It’s just that I suddenly decided to marry Sarah instead of Amanda. You guys never questioned it even though I had been dating Amanda for a really long time," I say hesitantly.
Dad doesn’t answer right away, as if considering my question carefully. He takes a slow breath, then turns his attention back to the grill, poking at the burgers with practiced precision.
"You know, Matthew," he begins, his voice calm but thoughtful. We liked Amanda. But Sarah..."
"What about Sarah?" I press on.
Dad flips another burger, the sizzle filling the momentary silence between us. "Sarah looks at you the way your mother looks at me," he says simply. "Always has, from the first time we saw her with you."
I nearly drop the spatula. "What?"
"You don’t see it because you’re too close to it," he continues, his voice matter-of-fact. "But we did. Your mother spotted it right away." He chuckles softly. "Women have a sense about these things."
I feel something twist in my chest—something uncomfortable and raw. "Dad, I—"
"When you told us you were marrying Sarah instead of Amanda, we weren’t surprised," he says, cutting me off. "Amanda was nice, sure. But there was always something... I don’t know, calculated about how she was with you. Like she was checking boxes."
He glances over at Sarah, who’s now helping Mom bring out more drinks to the patio table. "Sarah, though—she’s authentic. Even when she’s quiet, there’s something real there. She looks at you with real love."
I swallow hard. No, he is wrong.
"Trust me, son," Dad says, clapping me on the shoulder. "I know a thing or two about love."
"You don’t know everything, Dad," I say quietly.
His eyes crinkle at the corners. "I know enough. I know that marriage isn’t just about the good days. It’s about choosing each other even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard."
Before I can respond, Hailey runs over to us, camera in hand. "Photo time!" she announces, positioning herself to take a picture of Dad and me by the grill.
"Smile!" she commands, and I force my face into something resembling happiness.
The flash goes off, capturing a moment that feels entirely false. Dad, oblivious to my inner turmoil, waves Mom and Sarah over. "Family photo!" he calls out.
Sarah hesitates for just a moment before walking toward us, her steps measured. She stands beside me, close enough that I can smell her perfume—vanilla and something citrusy.
"Closer together, you two!" Hailey directs, peering through the viewfinder. "You’re married, for crying out loud. Act like it!"
Sarah looks at me, a question in her eyes. I nod slightly, and she moves in, her arm slipping around my waist. My body responds automatically, my arm settling across her shoulders, and for a brief moment, I feel the sudden urge to kiss her.
This is all wrong and my feelings are all over the place.