“I know. She’s already planned three more dinners this week.”
She smiles, but there’s worry behind it.
“Then what’s your plan?”
I hesitate… then Ewan’s idea pushes its way back in.
“What if… I found someone willing to play along? A mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Keira blinks.
“You mean a marriage of convenience? In 2025?”
“Not exactly. More like a partnership. A contract. Clear terms. End date.”
She snorts.
“That’s still a marriage, Callum. Call it what it is.”
I grimace.
“Fine. A marriage. But with someone who benefits too. Someone who needs stability. A fresh start.”
She studies me… then laughs.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that’s not completely stupid. It’s almost logical—for you.”
“Glad I have your confidence.”
“Don’t get used to it.” She heads for the door, then pauses. “But where exactly are you going to find someone desperate enough to marry a workaholic with a manipulative grandmother and a leaking castle?”
“I hate the way you phrase things.”
She grins.
“I’ll help you. Because despite your many, many flaws… you’re my brother. And I’d rather see you in charge than that idiot Lachlan.”
“That’s very touching.”
“I know.” She winks. “And Callum? For what it’s worth… I think you’d make a better husband than you think. Even in a fake marriage.”
Then she’s gone.
Later,I sit alone in front of the fire, a glass of whisky in hand, watching the flames dance.
An arranged marriage.
In this day and age.
It’s insane.
And yet… the more I think about it, the more it feels like the only viable option.
One year.
An eternity—and not nearly enough.
It has to look real. It has to feel real.
