Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime-Chapter 132: A Chance

They turned back toward the fairgrounds, walking slowly along the grassy path. Zephany’s hands were finally free, but somehow they drifted just close enough to Kendrick’s that their fingers brushed. He didn’t push, didn’t grab her hand. He just let the moment be.

And she let it stay.

They were still pretending, technically. But maybe, just maybe, it was starting to feel like something real after all.

As they re-entered the livelier part of the festival, the soft echo of laughter returned, mingled with the scent of roasted corn and something sweet from a cotton candy stand nearby. Zephany let her eyes wander over the booths, still glowing with warm yellow light, and she found herself oddly calm.

Pia spotted them from a few booths down and practically skipped over, her expression a mix of delight and mischief.

"Well, well, look who’s actually enjoying married life," Pia teased, eyeing the stuffed toys Kendrick carried. "Should I start planning a second honeymoon interview already?"

Zephany gave her a look. "Don’t start."

Pia held her hands up, feigning innocence. "I’m just saying. You two look cozy."

Kendrick only chuckled.

"He confessed something," Zephany muttered under her breath.

Pia’s eyes widened, her smile stretching. "Did he now? And here I was betting you’d cave first."

"I did not cave," Zephany said quickly.

Kendrick tilted his head. "You kind of did."

Pia beamed. "I’m proud of both of you. Seriously. I should go now. I didn’t mean to interrupt your romantic date." She hurried away.

Kendrick chuckled, then reminded her, "We still have Cassius watching from his Batcave, and Sophia probably taking notes."

Zephany rolled her eyes. "Let him watch."

"Ooh, bold," Kendrick said, clearly impressed. "You should say that more often."

They laughed, and for once, Zephany didn’t mind the teasing.

Kendrick looked down at her as they walked again. "Still scared?"

She glanced up. "Yeah. But it’s a different kind of scared now."

He nodded. "Good. Me too."

And somewhere in the background, in that hidden surveillance room, Cassius smirked as he sipped his coffee.

"Took them long enough," he muttered.

Sophia, arms crossed, raised an eyebrow at the screen. "They might be starting to believe it."

"That’s the point," Cassius said again, and for once, there was no sarcasm in his voice. Only something that sounded suspiciously like hope.

Later that night, long after the festival booths began to close and the lights dimmed, Zephany stood by the small kitchen counter in their apartment, absentmindedly rinsing a glass. The plush penguin sat slumped on one of the chairs at the dining table, its button eyes catching a faint glint from the overhead light.

She hadn’t said much on the ride home. Neither had Kendrick. Not out of awkwardness—more like a quiet understanding. Something had shifted, and neither of them felt the need to rush through it.

Behind her, she heard Kendrick move around the living room, likely folding the blanket they’d tossed over the couch earlier that morning. She finished with the glass and turned to find him leaning on the doorway, watching her.

"You want tea?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I’m good."

Zephany nodded, then leaned on the counter. Silence stretched again, not uncomfortable, just thoughtful.

"I meant what I said, by the way," Kendrick said, his voice low. "Earlier. About taking it slow."

"I know."

"You don’t have to be okay all at once."

Zephany looked at him, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the countertop. "I’m trying not to overthink it."

He smiled faintly. "You’re doing fine."

After a moment, she pushed away from the counter and walked into the living room, settling into the armrest of the couch. He followed, dropping onto the other end with a tired sigh.

"I’m not used to talking like that," she said, not looking at him.

"Me neither."

"Kind of exhausting."

"Definitely."

A beat of silence.

Zephany smiled a little. "But good."

"Yeah," Kendrick said. "Good."

She glanced sideways at him. "So what now?"

He shrugged. "Brush teeth, sleep, figure out tomorrow."

"You’re annoyingly practical."

He grinned. "Someone has to be."

She exhaled a quiet laugh and leaned back, letting the silence take over again. The warmth between them had settled into something quieter. Not fireworks. Just a steady, flickering candle.

Kendrick reached for the TV remote and flicked through channels. Some low-budget drama was playing—a woman yelling at a man in dramatic slow motion.

Zephany snorted. "That’s you whenever I forget the lunchbox you packed."

"I don’t yell."

"You sigh very dramatically."

Kendrick raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"Yes. Like a tragic hero in a cereal aisle."

He gave her a look, but he was smiling. She could tell he liked when she teased him.

They watched in silence for a few minutes, not really focused on the show.

"You’re right, by the way," he said suddenly.

"About what?"

"This whole thing didn’t start in the best way. The contract. The setup."

Zephany didn’t speak, just waited.

"But I think," Kendrick continued, "what we build from here on... that’s still up to us. Doesn’t have to follow Cassius’s plan. Or anyone’s."

She looked over at him, surprised by the clarity in his tone.

"And if that means redefining what this marriage is supposed to be, then... maybe we do it together."

Zephany’s voice was soft. "Together."

He nodded.

She watched him for a long moment, then said, "You’re not what I expected."

Kendrick turned to her. "Yeah?"

"When I first met you, I thought you were going to be a ’Yes Guy.’"

Kendrick raised an eyebrow. "Yes Guy?"

Zephany nodded. "Yeah. I thought you’d just keep following Cassius’s directions and get overwhelmed eventually. You just have that look — like a totally nice guy who could be easily taken advantage of."

He raised a hand. "Don’t ruin my reputation."

"But you’re just..." She paused, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Nice, but the kind of nice that knows his worth. You actually stand up for yourself and what you believe in."

He laughed. "Thanks."

They lapsed into a quiet again, but this time filled with small smiles and a comfortable stretch of space between them.

---

Across the city, in the quiet of a dark office, Cassius stood by a window, sipping something that looked suspiciously like wine from a paper cup.

Sophia was seated at the desk, feet crossed, scrolling through images from earlier footage.

"They’re starting to believe it," she said without looking up.

Cassius gave a hum. "Let them."

"You’re really playing the long game here."

"I always do."

Sophia’s eyes flicked to the screen where a paused frame showed Kendrick and Zephany walking side by side, shadows cast long in the glow of hanging lanterns.

"You think they’ll make it?"

Cassius considered the question, then set his cup down.

"I think... if they’re smart, they’ll stop worrying about the ending and just live in the middle for a while."

Sophia looked at him, half smiling. "You’re such a romantic."

He winked. "Don’t tell anyone."

---

Back in the apartment, Zephany stood up, stretching.

"I’m going to bed," she said.

Kendrick looked up. "Need anything?"

She paused, halfway to the hallway. "Actually..."

He waited.

She hesitated, then smiled faintly. "Thanks. For tonight. For not rushing me."

"You’re welcome."

She turned, but before disappearing down the hallway, she added, "And for carrying Mr. Waddles."

He grinned. "Always."

The door clicked softly behind her, and Kendrick leaned back on the couch, the ridiculous plush animals still sitting nearby.

For the first time in months, he didn’t feel like he was in the middle of a mission or caught up in a contract marriage. He felt like he was home.

And maybe, just maybe, Zephany was starting to feel the same.

He really wished she did.

Even if his confession had been unexpected, and even her reply wasn’t what he had expected, at least it wasn’t an outright no.

That had to mean there was still a chance. A chance to make their marriage a real one.

Now, more than ever, he wanted her to be his real wife.

---

[111 Days Left to Live]

Sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, golden and slow. It was the kind of morning that didn’t demand anything urgent, the kind where the air felt unbothered by time.

Zephany blinked awake to the faint sound of a kettle boiling and the soft clink of ceramic mugs. Her limbs were still heavy from sleep, but there was a calmness that held her still for a moment longer.

By the time she stepped into the kitchen, Kendrick was already standing by the stove, half-awake but functional, pouring hot water into two cups.

"Morning," he said without turning.

"Morning," she echoed, voice scratchy.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "You slept okay?"

Zephany nodded, then leaned on the counter. Silence stretched again, not uncomfortable, just thoughtful.

"I was thinking of heading to the grocery store," Kendrick said. "We’re low on vegetables, and I want to cook something decent for lunch."

Zephany blinked. "You always do the grocery shopping, don’t you?"

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