He's Blind, I'm His Fake Fiancée for a Year

Chapter 8

I sent William back to his room before sitting down with Lucas on the couch.

He leaned back, scanning the modest furnishings of my apartment while I laid everything out, the truth about the past.

"So, you only took care of me for the money?"

"Yes."

"And sleeping with me... that wasn't voluntary either?"

I hesitated.

It wasn't that simple.

Just talking about it made my face heat up.

After all, he had thought I was Emma when we…

Lucas studied me in silence, his expression unreadable.

A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach.

Would he take his anger out on William?

After all, I had signed the contract because of my brother's illness.

"Mr. Smith, I'm sorry," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I deceived you. If you're angry, I, I…"

I trailed off, unable to think of a way to make it up to him.

Lucas watched me struggle, then suddenly chuckled.

"I am angry that you hid from me for so long…"

Before I could respond, a knock at the door interrupted us.

I got up to answer it.

Standing outside was my neighbor, Jason.

He was also Chinese, an interior designer, and over time, we had come to look out for each other.

"Aria," he greeted with a friendly smile. "My colleague gave me a bunch of crabs today. I remember you mentioned wanting some before, so I brought you a few."

Jason handed me a box.

I had only casually mentioned it once, yet he had remembered.

"Thank you," I said, touched by the gesture.

"No need to thank me. If you ever need anything, just let me know."

His gaze drifted into the living room.

"Oh, you have a guest. I won't bother you then."

"I'll call you when dinner's ready," I offered.

"Sounds good."

We often ate together.

Whenever I worked late at the institute, William would sometimes have dinner at Jason's place. We had formed a quiet, mutual reliance over time.

As I closed the door, I could feel Lucas's stare burning into me.

Now that he had his sight back, being under his scrutiny made me uneasy in a way it never had before.

"Mr. Smith," I said, forcing myself to sound calm, "it's getting late. I've said everything I needed to say."

"If possible, let's just forget about the past."

I gripped the hem of my shirt, a lump forming in my throat.

A part of me feared him chasing after me.

A part of me feared never seeing him again.

Lucas's expression darkened.

"Forget about it?" He scoffed. "Not happening."

I tensed. "What do you mean?"

He glanced at the box of crabs in my hand, then, almost lazily, changed the subject.

"The reason I came looking for you… I need your help with something."

I frowned. "Help with what?"

"Emma ran away again."

He said it so casually, like it wasn't a big deal.

"I need someone who looks like her to marry me."

I froze.

A stand-in. Again.

Of course.

That was all I was ever good for.

My chest tightened, an ache settling deep inside me.

"Mr. Smith," I said quietly, "I can't do it this time."

"Why not?" His tone was as indifferent as ever. "I can give you money. Whatever you want."

"It's not about the money," I whispered. "I just… want to live my own life."

I had already spent a year drowning in the bitterness of that arrangement.

I wasn't about to do it again.

Lucas didn't argue.

Instead, he stood up, unhurried.

"That's fine," he said smoothly.

"Let me know when you change your mind."