"You're the one who said that…" Skye's words trailed off the moment Sean leaned in, his face suddenly so close to hers.
The space between them was almost nonexistent. From the driver's seat, it would've looked like they were kissing. Skye swallowed hard, her heart pounding as their faces hovered inches apart. She could even feel the soft brush of Sean's breath against her skin.
"Don't speak," Sean whispered, so low it was barely audible—just enough to make sure the driver wouldn't hear. Then, he leaned back, putting some distance between them, though the air now felt even more tense.
"Get some rest. Don't talk too much," he said calmly. "Your college issues and work problems—Jett took care of all of them. Right now, all you need to do is focus on preparing for our honeymoon."
He kept his eyes on the road, never once glancing at Skye, who sat in silence, trapped in a swirl of emotions she couldn't quite understand.
When there was still no response, Sean finally turned to her, his gaze sharp and piercing."What is it?" he asked, voice deeper this time, as if trying to reach into her thoughts.
Skye still didn't answer. Slowly, she turned her body away, giving Sean her back. Her eyes stared out the window, trying to distract herself from the storm of emotions she couldn't control. One hand moved to her chest, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart—as if she were falling in love for the first time.
But no. No!
"Impossible! I can't fall for that jerk! Cold. Arrogant. Overconfident."
"Tch. There's no way I'd ever fall in love with him!" The words echoed inside her head like a desperate mantra, as if repeating them would make her believe it.
Sean watched as Skye shook her head, frustration written all over her face. For a brief moment, his eyes flicked to her—just a glance—before he turned his gaze to the window on his right, deliberately ignoring her. If she was angry, so be it.
He couldn't care less. Skye's anger wasn't his problem. As far as he was concerned, he'd done what was required—paid the amount her father demanded, cleaned up the mess. That was enough. Her feelings had no bearing on his decisions.
To him, Skye was nothing more than a piece of the arrangement—a tool in his plan. A part of the deal he had to go through with, even if it meant being hated. Even if it meant enduring her wrath. Feelings? They were irrelevant. Especially hers.
His thoughts shifted back to his ultimate goal—a male heir. He needed to get Skye pregnant. It wasn't just a desire; it was an obligation. Once his son was born, once everything he wanted was finally within reach, he would divorce Skye without a shred of regret.
He knew he had to play this game carefully. But in his mind, Skye's feelings were irrelevant—insignificant compared to what he aimed to achieve. Every move he made now was calculated, each one designed to ensure the plan stayed on track.
As the car continued down the road, Sean sat in silence, deep in thought. In his mind's eye, he could already see the future he'd built for himself—one where Skye existed only as long as she was necessary. No longer.
They had arrived at the airport, and now sat quietly inside the plane that would take them to Paris. Skye sat stiffly in her seat, not uttering a single word. Her lips curved downward, the silent reflection of the anger still simmering inside her. She couldn't accept how Sean had treated her—like she had no voice, no will of her own.
But as much as Skye wanted to place all the blame on Sean, deep down, she knew the root of it all was her own fear. Fear of her father's rage, of the violent hands that would strike without mercy if she dared to say no. If only she had the courage to refuse—to stand tall and reject this marriage—none of this would've happened.
But she didn't. She stayed silent. And now she was trapped in a marriage she never wanted.
Her eyes shifted to the right, to the man sitting beside her. Sean looked completely unbothered, his attention buried in his phone, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just dragged a woman into his life for nothing more than a selfish goal.
Skye let out a silent sigh. Should she bring it up now, while they were still on the plane?Or would it be better to wait until they reached their place in Paris? The questions spun restlessly in her mind, leaving her uneasy. She didn't even realize that for the past few seconds, Sean had stopped scrolling on his phone—and was now quietly watching her.
"What is it?" Sean asked, his voice flat, emotionless.
Skye flinched slightly, pulled out of her thoughts. She glanced at him briefly, then quickly turned her face away. She didn't say a word. Instead, she reached for the seat divider between them, slowly pulling it up until it blocked their view of each other.
She needed space.Not just physical space—but a moment to calm the storm inside her chest. At the very least, with that partition between them, she could breathe a little easier. Breathe without feeling like she was trapped in a cage that kept tightening around her.
What was she supposed to do now?
Was she really meant to live bound by a contract with Sean?
And what about her dreams? What about her education—everything she'd worked so hard for—if she had to sacrifice it all for a marriage she never wanted?
These questions swirled endlessly in her head, louder than the hum of the plane's engine, drowning out everything else. She wasn't ready—not for this, not for any of it.
But deep down, she knew this was her own fault.Her silence.Her fear.Her weakness.
She had let it all lead her here. And now, she was too exhausted to even cry about it.Too tired to keep fighting thoughts that clawed at her from the inside out.She had tied herself to Sean with a vow spoken out of fear—not love, not hope.
Just fear.
And now she was stuck, drifting through the sky with nothing but regrets pressing heavily on her chest.