Falling For Her contracted Husband

Third Person POV

Ocean took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he glanced at Amanda. The weight of the moment bore down on him, but he knew he couldn't hold back any longer. The two of them stood in the quiet corner of the room, away from the bustling crowd that carried on as if their world wasn't about to change forever. His voice, though steady, carried an unmistakable urgency as he finally said the words that had haunted him for months. 

"Amanda," he began, his gaze fixed on her, "I need to know something. If I asked you to divorce Blake, would you? If you did, I'd do the same. We could finally be together, the way we're meant to be."

Amanda's eyes widened in surprise, and she let out a sharp scoff, stepping back from him as if his words had struck her. 

"Are you serious right now, Ocean?" she said, crossing her arms defensively. The disbelief in her tone was palpable, almost cutting. "You're asking me to blow up my entire life—just like that?"

"Yes, I am serious!" Ocean replied, stepping closer. His voice rose slightly, but it wasn't anger—it was desperation. 

"I've thought about this over and over. I can't keep living like this, Amanda. Hiding. Pretending. If you just say the word, I'll do it. I'll walk away from everything for you. Can't you see that we could finally be happy?"

Amanda shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line as she turned away from him, placing a hand on the back of the chair in front of her as if she needed it for support. "I can't," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Ocean's brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling to the surface as he moved to face her again. 

"Why not?" he demanded. "What's stopping you? You know you don't love him, Amanda. You've told me that yourself! What's keeping you tied to him when you could have this, us?"

Amanda closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly before opening them again to meet his pleading gaze. "It's not that simple, Ocean," she said, her voice carrying a weariness he hadn't expected. 

"There are things you don't understand."

"Then make me understand!" Ocean's voice cracked as he grabbed her hand, holding it tightly. 

"Amanda, I've done everything I can to show you how much I want this—how much I want you. If there's a reason you can't, then tell me. Please, tell me why."

Amanda pulled her hand free, her movements quick and decisive as she stepped away again, her back now to him. "You think it's just about love?" she said, her tone colder now, almost bitter. 

"There's more to it than that. My life, my family, my responsibilities—they don't just disappear because you want them to."

"And what about me?" Ocean countered, his voice filled with pain. "Don't I matter? Doesn't what we have matter enough for you to take this chance?"

Amanda turned her head slightly, her profile visible in the dim light as her lips tightened into a grim line. 

"I can't," she repeated, her voice firmer this time. "And you need to stop asking me to." 

Ocean stood there, his chest heaving with unspoken words as silence settled between them, heavier than ever before. For the first time, he saw the walls Amanda had built around herself, the ones he'd thought he could break through. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Amanda sat stiffly in the chair across from Ocean's desk, her fingers twisting nervously around the strap of her bag. She didn't look him in the eye when she finally said, "I owe Blake a lot of money."

Ocean leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady and unflinching. "How much?" His tone was casual, almost too casual, but his jaw tightened.

Her head snapped up, surprise flickering across her face. "It doesn't matter."

"It does if I'm offering to pay." His voice was sharper now, cutting through the tension in the room. 

Amanda shook her head vehemently, her hair falling in messy waves around her face. "Don't bother. It's impossible. You shouldn't—" She stopped herself, swallowing hard. 

"We don't have to do this. We don't have to go through all this just to be together."

Ocean's brows furrowed as he pushed his chair back, rising to his feet. He paced to the window, his back turned to her. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with disbelief. 

"If that's the case, then maybe you should stop coming to me." He turned to face her, his eyes cold. 

"I'm over you, Amanda. Whatever we had, it's done."

"Stop lying!" Her voice cracked, and she sprang to her feet. Tears welled in her eyes as she pleaded, her words tumbling out in a rush. 

"You're not over me. You can't be. Ocean, I'm trying to make you understand! I didn't choose this—" Her voice broke entirely as tears streamed down her face. 

Ocean stiffened, his expression hardening as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. 

"Understand? Understand what, Amanda? That you keep showing up here, tearing me apart every time you walk through that door?" He shook his head, the frustration evident in his movements. 

"If you're not leaving, I will."

He strode past her, his steps purposeful, but he didn't slam the door behind him. Instead, it closed softly, leaving Sky standing there alone, her sobbing the only sound in the empty office.

Later on, Ocean stepped into the dimly lit bar, the faint hum of music and chatter buzzing in his ears as he scanned the room for his friend. Ray was already seated at a table near the back, a look of mild surprise etched on his face when he saw Ocean walking toward him. It wasn't like Ocean to come out on a whim, especially not after flatly rejecting Ray's invitation earlier that day. 

As Ocean approached, Ray leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. "Well, well, look who decided to grace us with his presence. What changed your mind, man? You were pretty adamant about staying home."

Ocean slid into the seat opposite Ray, sighing heavily as he waved a hand to catch the bartender's attention. 

"I just needed to clear my head," he said, his voice carrying a weight that Ray couldn't ignore. He placed his order, a shot of tequila, and folded his arms on the table as if trying to shield himself from further questions.

Ray wasn't one to be easily deterred. "Clear your head, huh? Let me guess—it's about your wife?" His tone was teasing, but his eyes watched Ocean carefully, waiting for a reaction.

Ocean shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "It's none of your business, Ray," he replied, his voice firm but not unkind. The bartender arrived with his drink, and Ocean downed it in one swift motion, the burn of the liquor grounding him momentarily.

Ray chuckled, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "You know, if you ever actually talked about what's going on, you might feel better. Just saying."

"Thanks for the unsolicited advice," Ocean replied dryly, signaling for another drink. He appreciated Ray's concern, even if he wouldn't admit it, but tonight wasn't the night for confessions. He just wanted to drown out the noise in his head, if only for a little while. The rest of the night passed with Ray trying to lighten the mood with jokes and stories, and Ocean offering half-hearted chuckles in response.

When Ocean finally stumbled through his front door later that night, the tequila had worked its magic, leaving him tipsy and heavy-lidded. He kicked off his shoes and made his way upstairs, his mind too foggy to register much beyond the need to collapse into bed. He pushed open the door to what he thought was his room, only to freeze mid-step. 

The soft glow of a bedside lamp illuminated a figure standing by the dresser, her back turned to him. Sky. She was completely naked, her skin glistening under the light as she smoothed lotion over her arms. The realization hit Ocean like a slap, and he took an unsteady step backward, the alcohol muddling his ability to process the situation quickly.

Sky turned her head slightly, her movements slowing as she seemed to sense his presence. 

"Ocean?" Her voice was soft, a mix of surprise and curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

"I—uh—wrong room," he stammered, averting his eyes as he clumsily backed toward the door. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he cursed under his breath for not paying closer attention. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—uh, I'll just—yeah, I'll go."

Ocean's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the figure before him. For a moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but the longer he looked, the more he realized he wasn't hallucinating. She was there, in his room, as real as the air he was struggling to inhale. His gaze lingered, moving from her back down to the curve of her perfectly sculpted buttocks and her soft, tantalizing curves. He blinked, utterly mesmerized, as a revelation struck him: he had never truly looked at Sky this way before. 

She had always worn oversized hoodies and leggings that hid every inch of her figure. The one he teased relentlessly, the one who teased him back without missing a beat. The memory of her in a bikini at the beach briefly crossed his mind, but even then, he hadn't paid much attention to her. He had been too busy gawking at Amanda, trying to impress her with his charm and wit. But now? Now there was no Amanda, no distractions. Just Sky—standing there, undeniably breathtaking.

Sky turned abruptly, her startled squeal slicing through the thick tension in the room. Her wide eyes met Ocean's, her cheeks flushing crimson as she clutched at her chest instinctively. 

"Oh my god, Ocean! What are you doing here?" she stammered, her voice rising as she scrambled to grab the towel hanging on the nearby chair. She yanked it around herself, covering as much of her as she could, though the blush on her cheeks only deepened when she realized his gaze hadn't wavered. 

Ocean leaned against the doorframe, his lips twitching slightly into what could only be described as a cocky smirk.