The day went surprisingly great. However, the white heels were killing my feet by the evening. But other than that, I enjoyed my wedding, even though it was fake, very much. The pain killers were doing their work well, my back felt fine.

So, I didn't mind Zach's hand on my waist.

Of course, I knew that he was just putting up a show. With occasional forehead kisses and small smiles now and then, a girl can only take so much.

I ended up feeling butterflies on my stomach all through the day. Maybe that was the major reason why I enjoyed.

Zach, however, had that distant look in his face when he saw the happiness on his mother's face and to be honest, I felt guilty too. Natalie told him how his father would be proud if he had seen us together again and I couldn't help but think about what had happened.

I remember Zach's dad very well, he was a sweet and caring man. He would always yell at Zach for not caring about me much. I loved his family.

The thought of his death had brought tears to my eyes but I blinked them away. The urge to comfort Zach was too high, they had such a great bond.

After bidding everyone goodbye, we went 'home'. I was extremely happy to be in Zach's house rather than my own, due to obvious reasons. I was glad I would never have to be with Robert again, though I didn't know what it said in the contract.

Can Zach terminate the contract?

Anyway, I am taken to Zach's room by Lily and she seems happy for me. She couldn't stop congratulating. If she only knew.

It was eight in the night and my heart couldn't stop beating wildly. I was going to share a bed with Zach and I tried my best to not let my mind go wild. No, no, not that kind of wild. Dear God.

I seriously need to take a very long shower to clear and clean my mind.

My bags were already delivered to my room. The closet, surprisingly, was filled with clothes already and they were familiar. I remember seeing some of them in the closet of the room I was given before.

I took out a pair of very simple pair of black underwear (I am trying to make a point here) and the PJs before stepping inside the bathroom.

I look at my anxious face in the mirror before sighing. I try to reach the zipper of the dress on my back but fail to do so. Grumbling under my breath, I try it again and again but fail miserably.

I hear the door to our room open and then shut.

Desperately hoping that it is Lily and not Zach, I open the door but my breath is stuck on my lungs when I see it's Zach.

He has gotten rid of the suit. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled back, showcasing his forearms and the top few buttons of his shirt are also open. I try not to gawk at him openly when I see his dishevelled soft hair that he no doubt has run his hands many times.

He looks at me with a guarded expression and I wish I knew what he is thinking.

I offer him a small smile which he doesn't react to. Instead, his eyes fall to my lips and before I get wrong ideas, I walk to him and turn around.

"What?" his husky voice makes my knees weak and I never knew his voice had that effect on me.

"The z-zip," I squeak, realizing that this was the second time I was talking to him. I didn't feel anxious this time and it almost felt normal to speak to him.

After some heavy breaths, he pulls my hair to the side and his breath hits my neck. I am aware of the fresh scars decorating my skin. He doesn't say anything.

Contrast to his hot breath on my neck, his hands are cold and I shiver when I feel his knuckles trace the skin on my back as he slides the zipper down. The romance novels and books I read could never describe how I feel when he does that.

His hand reaches the end of the zip but he doesn't pull back. Instead, he leans.

"A pretty thing you are, Ella," he breathes out. My heart thuds in my chest and I feel my stomach clench. I take a deep. He is still attracted to me.

I take a deep breath.

"I am n-not a 'thing'."

Zach chuckles, not moving from his position. His fingers curl on my waist.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I just wanted to tell you- you're really pretty."

His deep husky voice only increases the butterflies on my stomach and for someone who hadn't been touched like this in seven years, I sure had forgotten this feeling. I clutch the dress to my chest.

"Aren't- aren't," my throat closes. I try my best to take my mind off the consequences when I would speak. This was Zach, not Robert, he wouldn't do anything to me, I convince myself.

Zach softly squeezes my hips, asking me to complete the question silently. Taking a big gulp of air, I try again.

"Aren't you b-bothered by my scars?"

I have abruptly turned around and I raise my head to look into his eyes, trying to understand what he is going through his mind.

"They don't bother me."

What? They were downright ugly. Looking at my confused face, he adds.

"I am proud of you, you know? You are so strong," his voice breaks a little, so little I barely notice.

Reality then sinks in and I realize the position I am in. Zach unwraps his hand from my waist and with a final look at him, I walk to the bathroom and lock the door behind me, holding the wedding dress to my chest.

After what Zach had promised, I didn't think he'd still be so sweet and gentle with me. I get off the dress and get into the shower. I need that long shower.

After coming out from Zach wouldn't even look at me. Maybe he realized he shouldn't be that sweet to 'a money-hungry bitch who broke his heart' and honestly, I couldn't blame him.

He takes a shower himself while I snuggle into his covers and pull it over my body. Just in time, I remember seeing something above his bed, the portrait! I crane my neck and look above me to find nothing.

Okay, that was definitely a dream. A very unrealistic one at that.

I make myself comfortable and grab the small blue diary and pen I had placed on the bedside table. I start writing everything about the day, specifically how I wished I knew what had happened to Zach's dad.

The opening of door and footsteps make me stop and I raise my head.

My jaw hits the ground when Zach casually walks to the bed with a towel hanging on his shoulders, messing with his wet hair and completely shirtless. His pajama pants are hanging low on his waist and with a very red face, I look at him.

He looks at me casually, as if sharing room with your new fake wife was a normal thing to do. His eyes fall on the blue diary I am clutching tightly. His eyebrows shoot together for a second before he looks at me.

Why in the hell am I feeling butterflies in my stomach?

He passes me a small smile before settling next to me. Didn't he say he'd be 'using' and 'torturing' me? Is he trying to torture me with sweetness or what?

I knew it.

Empty threats.

One thing is for sure. Sharing a bed with him is going to result in me not getting any sleep.

At all.