Arranged •{ONC 2020}•

《 Chapter Seven 》

"Ash—"

"Save it. I don't want to hear more lame excuses." She stood, her eyes stinging. "I'm leaving."

"Ash—" Wesley reached out and caught her sleeve.

She slapped his hand away as a tear slid down her cheek. "Don't touch me, and don't come after me." With that, she stormed out of the room.

Wesley was at a loss for words. Perhaps he had taken it too far, but he wasn't wrong.

"Don't worry about it," Aunt Leah muttered and patted his shoulder gently. "She has, well, there's a lot that happened to her in the past. Besides, this was bound to happen at one point. Just leave her be for a few days."

Wesley watched Aunt Leah walk away, leaving him alone in the living room. He groaned in frustration and raked his fingers through his hair. For the first time in ages, he felt conflicted about someone. Ashlynn was right, he wasn't here because he loved her. They were married, but it was in title only. Even if the whole arrangement was fake, it bothered him that she was seeing someone on the side.

He didn't want to think about the reason why.

Picking his book up from the floor, Wesley went to his room. He was drained, mentally and emotionally. 

He needed sleep.

《♡》

She needed a drink.

"I can't believe the nerve of that guy!" Ashlynn slammed her third shot glass on the counter, empty. "His girlfriend literally comes to the house. Gah!"

Dylan sighed from the barstool next to her. "He does have a point, though." At the sight of her arched brow, he hurriedly added, "You are kind of going behind his back to meet me."

"But we're friends. This isn't an affair."

"Even so," he frowned, "it would seem like it from his perspective."

"I'm just so tired of this. I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to marry him."

"You didn't have many options. You were stressed and pressed for time—"

"I had nearly three weeks before the deadline."

Dylan looked at her. "Really?"

"Yes, and I still married that moron. What was wrong with me?" She waved the bartender down to refill her drink. "I'm an idiot."

"That's true—"

"Hey!"

"—but you're a cute idiot." Dylan flashed her his boyish grin.

"Shut up," she mumbled into her glass. Downing her shot, she slid money onto the counter. "I'm going home. I've got work tomorrow."

"I'll drive you home?"

"No," she sighed. "I think it would be best if you didn't come near the house. I don't want a repeat of today."

"Alright. Be careful," he rose and helped her with her coat.

Two seconds later, she was enveloped in his warmth. His chin rested on the top of her head and his arms were wrapped comfortably around her back. They stood like that for a few moments before she slipped away shyly.

Maybe the smell of Calvin Klein wasn't as bad as she thought.

《♡》

The next few days at the company were awful. Scuttlebutt was that the big bosses had a fight, and the employees couldn't keep their prying eyes to themselves.