“You said to think about it,” she began. “I did.”
My pulse adjusted. I did not move. She bit her bottom lip as she seemingly collected her thoughts before she looked back up at me.
“You’re serious,” she continued. “About this being just for insurance. Like a business transaction.”
“Yes.”
“I get insurance, and to live here while I recover.”
“Yes.”
“No romantic expectations.”
“No.”
“No power plays.”
“No.”
Silence. She studied my face. Searching.
“For how long?” she asked.
“I think six months would suffice,” I said. Why was I so invested in this? “Or until you choose otherwise.”
“And if I walk away later.”
“You may.”
“And you won’t retaliate.”
“No. I would never do anything to hurt you, Belle.”
I think that surprised her as much as it surprised me. Yet I knew it to be true. It was one of those truths that exists deep in your soul. I would never harm her or allow any harm to befall her.
She exhaled slowly. Her fingers tightened slightly where they rested on the table.
“If this is a contract,” she said, “then it benefits us both.”
“Yes.”
“You get order.”
“Indeed.”
“I get insurance.”
“Yes.”
Silence. Then— “Okay.” The word landed softly. “I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”
My heart shifted. It fluttered in my chest. The sensation almost startled me. I had not experienced it in years. I was not certain it had remained possible. Somehow, I maintained composure.
“I will ready the paperwork,” I said evenly.
“Of course you will.”
“We will proceed tomorrow.”
