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Whatever the case, it was evident that entering into a marital life that was essentially a formal agreement appealed to him greatly. I suspected it was partly because there would be no pressure for him tofeelthe emotions that kept a typical marriage alive—something he didn’t believe he was capable of doing.
“Wouldn’t you at least want to care for the person you’re tying yourself to?” I asked. “Wouldn’t you rather they mattered to you on at leastsomelevel?”
His gaze flitted over my face, hyper-focused. “You have … value to me. Not many people outside my inner circle do.”
“That’s nice and all, but do you really think you could tie your life to that of someone you’ll only ever ‘value?’ Do you honestly believe you wouldn’t eventually come to resent that your marriage has about as much emotional importance to you as a toaster?”
Humor flashed in his eyes. “A toaster?”
“You know what I’m getting at. To you, this will be no different than a corporate agreement.” I cocked my head. “Be real with me, Dax, do you even care who you marry? Because I’m getting the sense that you don’t; that it makes no difference to you, since you don’t envision yourself becoming emotionally invested.”
His brows met. “I would never be indifferent toward something as serious as my choice of wife—a person I would have to commit to, live with, raise children with. Pact or not, I wouldn’t have made this proposition to you if I didn’t believe a marriage between us would work.”
“How can you be so sure it would?”
“Because we’d refuse to allow anything else. We’re both determined people who throw ourselves behind whatever we do and take our commitments very seriously. If we walk into this intent on ensuring it stays strong, that’s exactly what will happen.”
It was really starting to get annoying that he had an answer for freaking everything. I carved my fingers into my hair and held it in place at the back of my head. “Look, I understand why an arranged marriage would appeal to you—”
“It appeals to you, too,” he maintained, his eyes boring into mine; daring me to contradict him. “You would have walked out of here by now if it didn’t.”
“There’ssomeappeal in it, yes. But …” I trailed off, releasing my hair with a sigh.
“The problem here is you feel that you should brand it a crazy idea. You feel that you should reject it merely because arranged marriages aren’t common. But why does that have to matter?”
Truthfully, I guessed it didn’t. I’d organized weddings for couples who weren’t in love. They were still positive about their future; still happy to be moving forward with their lives; still determined to take their vows seriously. I’d respected them for it. There had been times I’d come across them years later happily walking hand in hand or pushing strollers.
“Who gives a fuck what other people typically do, Addison? Only you know what’s right for you. Only you know if searching for some supposedly all-important emotion isto youreally worth putting the things you want from life on hold.”
I should really gag him or something. He was making too much sense, and I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. “If we did this—and that isn’t a yes, I’m just curious—when would you want to get married?”
“As soon as possible. I see no reason to wait. And if we were to set a date far off in the future, you’d spend the time in between second-guessing yourself.”
Oh, so true.
“I’m sure, given your experience with organizing weddings, you could arrange for ours to happen quickly.” It wasn’t a query; it was a confident statement.
I studied his face. “This is really, truly, honestly what you want?”
“Yes. It was your idea, remember?”
“I suggested we make the pact, but I didn’t actually think we’d need to go through with it. Admit it, you didn’t think it would come to this either.”
“I doubted it would, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t serious when I agreed. Whether or not you meant it all the way, the fact remains that you promised meyou. Are you going to keep your word or not?”
“I can’t quite believe you’re holding me to it.” Needing some breathing room, I stepped back, reeling and so damn overwhelmed. It was hard to think when he took up so much of my personal space. “Look, I can’t give you an answer right at this moment. This is a lot. You’ve had an opportunity to ruminate on it—and I’m sure you did plenty of it before you contacted me. I need that same opportunity.”
He twisted his mouth. “You still have a week before your time is fully up. Take that week to think about it. The day after your birthday, I’ll come to you. And I’ll expect an answer.”
I licked the inside of my lower lip. “Okay.”
“I want you to promise me that you’ll genuinely think about it—no closing your mind once you’re alone.”
“I’m not dismissing the idea, Dax. I just need time to properly go over it in my head, and I’ll do it with an open mind.”
He gave a satisfied nod. “Good girl.”
I narrowed my eyes, cursing my stomach for clenching. “I said no trigger phrases.”
