He Came Asking for a Job — But the Wealthy Widow Whispered, “What I Really Need Is a Husband”
Chapter 7
Charlotte’s father died two weeks later.
The funeral was private.
Ethan stayed beside her.
He didn’t speak to the press.
Didn’t step into meetings.
He simply stayed.
Amelia held Charlotte’s hand.
At the cemetery, Charlotte stood alone for several minutes.
Ethan waited.
When she returned, she looked exhausted.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not telling me to be strong.”
He smiled.
“You didn’t need it.”
She looked at him.
That evening, they returned home.
Amelia was asleep.
Charlotte sat in the living room.
Ethan joined her.
“Do you know what I hate?”
“What?”
“Everyone keeps telling me I’m lucky.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m rich.”
He looked at her.
“Are you?”
“Sometimes.”
She laughed softly.
“But money didn’t bring my father back.”
“No.”
“Didn’t make me less afraid.”
“No.”
“Didn’t make the house feel less empty.”
Ethan looked around.
“Does it feel less empty now?”
She stared at him.
“Yes.”
The answer was honest.
They moved closer.
Their faces were inches apart.
Then Charlotte whispered:
“Ethan.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
He didn’t answer.
She touched his face.
“I know the contract says six months.”
“I know.”
“But I don’t want this to end.”
He took a breath.
“Neither do I.”
They kissed.
No cameras.
No board.
No contract.
Just two people who had finally admitted the truth.
The next morning, they told Amelia.
“We’re staying married,” Charlotte said.
Amelia smiled.
“Forever?”
Charlotte looked at Ethan.
“That’s the plan.”
Amelia hugged both of them.
She didn’t know what had changed.
She only knew the house felt safe.
The six-month contract remained on paper.
But the marriage was real.
At least emotionally.
Charlotte told her lawyers to terminate the agreement.
No more expiration date.
No more conditions.
No more pretending.
Ethan signed.
So did she.
Then Charlotte looked at him.
“Why are you still nervous?”
He smiled.
“Because now you’re actually my wife.”
She laughed.
“That scares you?”
“A little.”
“Good.”
The family went on.
Dinner.
School.
Work.
Life.
It wasn’t perfect.
It was real.
And that was much better.
