Two Hearts

The Plan

Laura's POV

This had to be some kind of nightmare.

One moment Daniel and I had been drinking coffee in unexpected peace, standing in the kitchen like two normal adults who almost knew how to exist in the same room.

The next moment Erik had appeared out of nowhere and dropped the worst possible news on us. And after that everything had happened too fast.

Voices. Arguments. Impossible problems. New disasters appearing every thirty seconds.

I had watched Daniel's patience disappear right in front of my eyes. I had felt it before it happened. He was going to leave.

And he did. One sentence. One frustrated look. And suddenly he was heading toward the front door.

I wasn't even surprised. A part of me had expected it. That was what Daniel did whenever things became difficult.

He left.

I watched him reach the entrance hall. Watched him grab his keys. Watched him put his hand on the door handle.

And then...

Nothing.

He stopped. For a second he simply stood there. Then he looked back. At me.

I still had no idea what he'd seen. Or what had changed his mind. But something had. Because a moment later he turned around and walked back.

Just like that.

He dropped the keys onto the table. The sound echoed through the kitchen. And then he said the last thing I expected to hear.

"We need a plan."

For a second neither Erik nor I moved. Neither of us spoke. I was fairly certain Erik was just as shocked as I was. Maybe more.

Because Daniel wasn't running. For the first time since this entire arrangement had begun...

He was staying.

A few minutes later we were sitting around the dining table. The same table where we'd had dinner the night before.

Only now it felt less like a family meal and more like a crisis meeting.

Daniel sat beside me. Far too close. I could smell his cologne. Clean. Warm. Dangerous. My brain immediately chose that moment to stop functioning properly.

Wonderful.

Meanwhile Daniel looked completely unaffected. Which was rude, honestly.

The conversation began with his question.

"What does Grandma like?"

Erik waved a dismissive hand.

"That's not the problem." His gaze moved between us.

"You two are the problem."

Silence.

Then he asked,

"How did you meet?"

I looked at Daniel. Daniel looked at me. Then we both looked at Erik.

His face slowly transformed into something between disbelief and disappointment.

"You haven't discussed that?"

Nobody answered. Because the answer was obvious. No. We had not.

"Fine," Erik said.

"First date?"

Silence.

"Proposal?"

More silence.

"Wedding?"

Dead silence.

The questions kept coming. And every single one exposed another hole in our story. Because we didn't have a story. We had a contract. Those were not the same thing.

Real couples had memories. Inside jokes. Arguments. Anniversaries. Photographs. We had absolutely none of that.

"What if Mother asks where you met?"

"We haven't decided."

"How long did you date?"

"We haven't decided."

"Who proposed?"

"We haven't decided."

"Where was the wedding?"

Daniel finally groaned.

"Oh, for God's sake, Father."

Erik stared at him.

"No." For once his voice was sharp. "This matters." He leaned forward. "My mother remembers everything."

That sentence alone terrified me. I rubbed my forehead. Someone had to contribute something useful.

"Maybe we met at a charity event?"

Daniel immediately shook his head.

"I hate charity events."

I stared at him.

"Fine. Coffee shop."

"I don't drink coffee."

I blinked. Then pointed toward the kitchen.

"You literally made coffee thirty minutes ago."

"That's not the point."

I narrowed my eyes. He was enjoying this. The i***t was actually enjoying this.

"You're impossible."

He looked mildly offended.

"I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have."

A smile appeared at the corner of Erik's mouth. The traitor.

Then I folded my arms.

"Fine."

"If you're so good at criticizing my ideas, maybe provide one of your own."

Daniel stared at me for several seconds. Then he surprised everyone. Including himself.

"My favorite color is green."

I blinked.

"What?"

"I drink black coffee."

Another blink.

"I'm CEO of my company."

"Daniel—"

"I like the ocean."

He kept going.

"I listen to almost everything."

Then he folded his arms.

"There."

Silence.

I stared at him. Then realization hit. The bastard. He wasn't answering Erik. He was answering me. Giving me information. About himself. After weeks of treating me like furniture.

Even Erik looked impressed.

"Good."

Daniel immediately regretted it. I could practically see it happen.

"Let's assume we met at some event," Daniel continued. "It doesn't matter where. It's been what?" He looked at Erik. "Ten years?"

My jaw dropped.

Ten years.

Ten.

People who had been married ten years practically shared one brain. They finished each other's sentences. Knew each other's coffee orders. Knew childhood stories. Favorite foods. Pet peeves. Everything.

Meanwhile I had just learned Daniel's favorite color.

"We are doomed." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

For some reason both men nodded.

Then Erik delivered the next disaster.

"Where are your wedding photos?"

Silence.

Again.

A truly magnificent silence. The kind of silence that screamed.

Then Erik suddenly snapped his fingers.

"I'll arrange a photoshoot."

I almost choked.

"A what?"

"A photoshoot."

"No." Daniel answered immediately. Absolutely immediately. Didn't even think about it.

Just — No.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Mother will ask for photographs."

Daniel dropped his head onto the table. For a moment he looked genuinely defeated. I was beginning to understand where he got his stubbornness from. Apparently it was hereditary.

"Oh God."

"Exactly." Erik smiled victoriously. The smile of a man who had already won.

Then he pulled out a small notebook. Of course he had a notebook. The man probably carried emergency business plans in his sleep. He began writing.

"Wedding story."

Scribble.

"Relationship timeline."

Scribble.

"Photographs."

Scribble.

"Family details."

Scribble.

Then he paused. Slowly lifted his head. And looked at us. For far too long. I immediately knew I wasn't going to like whatever came next.

"One more thing."

My stomach dropped. Daniel visibly stiffened. Apparently he knew too.

"You need to share a bedroom."

Silence.

Absolute silence. The kind of silence where you could hear your own heartbeat. I nearly inhaled my coffee.

"Absolutely not." Daniel answered so fast it was almost impressive.

For once I fully agreed with him. One hundred percent. No debate. No discussion. No chance.

"My mother isn't stupid." Erik remained annoyingly calm. "Married people sleep together."

"Not necessarily." Daniel folded his arms. "Many couples sleep in separate bedrooms. Different schedules. Work. Snoring. Personal space."

I nodded. Finally. Something we agreed on.

Erik looked unimpressed.

"Happy married people sleep together."

I nearly dropped my mug.

Again.

Daniel looked ready to throw his father through the nearest window.

Meanwhile Erik calmly wrote something else into his notebook.

Then he smiled. The smile of a man watching chaos unfold exactly according to plan.

"Excellent."

"We're making progress."

"No, we're not," Daniel and I said simultaneously.

Erik's smile widened.

He pointed between us.

"There."

"You see?"

Then he closed the notebook. Completely satisfied with himself.

"You already sound like a married couple."

And somehow...

That was the most horrifying thing he'd said all morning.