He Came Asking for a Job — But the Wealthy Widow Whispered, “What I Really Need Is a Husband”
Chapter 2
Ethan’s younger sister nearly dropped the agreement when she read it.
“You’re marrying a billionaire?”
“Temporarily.”
Grace stared.
“That’s not the part I find comforting.”
Ethan sighed.
“It’s a contract.”
“Marriage isn’t supposed to be a contract.”
“Apparently, hers is.”
Grace continued reading.
“Six months.”
“Yes.”
“Separate rooms.”
“Yes.”
“No romance.”
“Correct.”
She looked at him.
“Then why do you look worried?”
“Because there’s a child.”
Grace became quiet.
“Her daughter?”
“Yes.”
“What’s her name?”
“Amelia.”
“How old?”
“Six.”
Grace closed the folder.
“Then remember something.”
“What?”
“A child doesn’t understand contracts.”
Ethan knew she was right.
The wedding took place three days later.
No guests.
No flowers.
No celebration.
Just a civil ceremony in a private room at the courthouse.
Charlotte wore a simple cream dress.
Ethan wore the same suit.
They stood beside each other.
The officiant smiled.
“You may kiss.”
Charlotte and Ethan looked at one another.
Then shook their heads at the same time.
The officiant laughed.
“Very well.”
Twenty minutes later, they were married.
Charlotte handed Ethan a key.
“Your room is upstairs.”
He followed her home.
The Rosemont estate was enormous.
But it didn’t feel warm.
It felt empty.
The rooms were beautiful.
The furniture was expensive.
The hallways were quiet.
Ethan could hear the ticking of a clock.
Then a little girl appeared at the top of the stairs.
She held a stuffed rabbit.
She looked at Ethan.
Then at Charlotte.
“Is that him?”
Charlotte nodded.
“This is Ethan.”
Amelia studied him.
“Are you my new daddy?”
Ethan froze.
Charlotte closed her eyes.
“Amelia.”
“What?”
Ethan crouched.
“Your mom and I got married.”
She frowned.
“That means you’re my stepdad.”
“Yes.”
She thought about it.
“Are you staying?”
The question was so simple that it hurt.
Ethan glanced at Charlotte.
She was already looking away.
“Yes,” he said.
“For how long?”
He hesitated.
“Long enough.”
Amelia nodded.
Then walked downstairs.
“Can you make pancakes?”
Ethan blinked.
“Yes.”
Charlotte interrupted.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
Amelia smiled.
“Good.”
The next morning, Ethan made pancakes.
He discovered two things.
First, Amelia was an aggressive critic.
Second, Charlotte couldn’t cook.
She entered the kitchen wearing a silk blouse and holding a coffee.
“What happened?”
Ethan looked at the pan.
“Pancakes.”
“They look burnt.”
Amelia gasped.
“Mom!”
“What?”
“You can’t say that.”
Charlotte looked confused.
“They are burnt.”
Ethan laughed.
Amelia crossed her arms.
“She doesn’t know anything.”
Charlotte stared at her daughter.
“Traitor.”
Ethan smiled.
For the first time in months, the house sounded alive.
Later that morning, Charlotte took Ethan to the company headquarters.
They arrived together.
The photographers were waiting.
The board members were waiting.
The announcement was made.
Charlotte Rosemont had married.
The market responded immediately.
Investors calmed.
The board challenge was postponed.
Everyone saw Ethan.
Most saw an ordinary man.
Charlotte introduced him simply.
“My husband.”
No explanation.
No apology.
Then she squeezed his hand.
Only for the cameras.
At least, that’s what Ethan assumed.
He was wrong.
That night, Amelia asked him to read a bedtime story.
“Mom never reads.”
Charlotte heard from the hallway.
“I do.”
Amelia shook her head.
“Only when your assistant reminds you.”
Charlotte looked offended.
Ethan hid a smile.
Amelia handed him a book.
Ethan sat beside her bed.
He read slowly.
When he finished, Amelia looked at him.
“Are you really staying?”
Ethan nodded.
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
She fell asleep.
Ethan walked into the hallway.
Charlotte was standing there.
“She likes you.”
“So?”
“She doesn’t like many people.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Why?”
Charlotte’s expression softened.
“Because people leave.”
Ethan understood more than she knew.
He had learned the same lesson.
The difference was that Charlotte had built walls around it.
Ethan had simply kept walking.
