Two Hearts

Truce

Daniel's POV

The moment my father left and Laura disappeared upstairs, I knew two things.

First—my grandmother was going to destroy my life.

Second—my father had completely lost his mind.

I stood alone in the dining room, staring at the notebook he'd abandoned on the table.

Wedding story. Relationship timeline. Photos. Shared bedroom.

I wanted to burn the notebook. Possibly the entire table. Maybe the whole house.

With a sigh, I picked it up and flipped through the pages. Nothing. The rest of the notebook was completely blank.

Just like my knowledge of Laura. What was her favorite color? What did she do when she wasn't taking care of the children? What made her laugh? What made her angry?

Did she read books? Did she listen to music? Did she have a favorite movie? A favorite place? A favorite food? I knew absolutely nothing.

Then a realization hit me so hard I almost laughed.

Damn.

I knew more about some of my employees than I knew about my own wife.

The thought should have been ridiculous. Instead, it felt uncomfortable. For the first time since this entire arrangement began, I truly understood how absurd our situation was.

Two weeks.

In two weeks, we were supposed to convince my grandmother that we had built a marriage, a family, and a life together.

Meanwhile, I couldn't even answer a basic question about Laura. I dropped into a chair and rubbed my face.

How was I supposed to learn everything about her in fourteen days?

More importantly— How was I supposed to do it without making it feel like an interrogation?

People lied during interviews. They gave polished answers. Safe answers. The details that mattered always appeared naturally. And somehow, we needed years of details.

I hated admitting it, but there was another problem. I no longer knew how to talk to normal women. The realization was embarrassing.

Business meetings? Easy.

Negotiations? Simple.

Hostile investors? No problem.

Laura? Completely different story.

With women from clubs or parties, everything had always been uncomplicated. Nobody asked questions. Nobody cared. They wanted money. I wanted distraction. Everyone left satisfied. No expectations. No attachments. No complications.

Laura was the exact opposite. And somehow, she terrified me far more than any boardroom ever had.

I stood and headed upstairs.

Each step felt heavier than the last. This morning had started badly. But the real nightmare was only beginning.

Two weeks.

Two weeks to create ten years of history.

Impossible.

As I reached the second floor, my mind drifted back to the conversation downstairs. To Laura's face when my father mentioned sharing a bedroom. I understood that look.

Hell, I'd probably looked exactly the same.

The idea was insane. Sharing a room with someone you barely knew? Sleeping in the same space every night? Pretending everything was normal?

No. Absolutely not.

I entered my bedroom and immediately froze.

The room looked exactly the way it always had. Large bed. Dark furniture. Minimal decoration. Everything perfectly organized. Everything mine.

There wasn't a single sign that a woman lived here. No clothes. No books. No cosmetics. No photographs. No evidence of a shared life.

My grandmother would take one look at this room and call my bluff in under thirty seconds.

"Damn it."

I leaned against the dresser and stared around again. There was no way around this.

For once, avoiding the problem wasn't going to solve it.

I needed to talk to Laura. Properly. Not argue. Not leave. Not hide behind work.

Actually talk.

The realization alone felt unnatural.

I left my room and started down the hallway. Halfway there, another problem occurred to me. I had absolutely no idea which bedroom was hers. There were enough guest rooms upstairs to house a small army.

Then I saw Ellie emerge from her room. She marched across the hallway and started pounding on another door.

"Markus! Wake up! Mom's going to make breakfast and you're still sleeping like it's noon!"

I couldn't stop the small smile that appeared.

The siblings were constantly arguing. Constantly annoying each other. And yet somehow, they were always together.

I had wanted that once. A brother. A sister. Anyone.

But life had chosen differently. My mother died. My father never remarried. And I spent most of my life alone.

Watching Ellie disappear back into her room, I glanced toward the neighboring door.

Most likely Laura's.

I walked over and knocked.

Something thumped inside. A muffled curse followed. Then footsteps. The door opened.

"What—" Laura stopped mid-sentence when she saw me.

Her surprise was almost insulting. Apparently seeing me voluntarily standing outside her room was that unbelievable.

"We need to talk." The words left my mouth before I could reconsider them.

Laura blinked. Slowly. Suspiciously.

"That never ends well."

A laugh almost escaped me. Almost.

"No," I admitted. "It really doesn't."

For several seconds, neither of us said anything. Then I decided to get straight to the point.

"We need to figure out this bedroom situation."

Laura's eyes widened instantly.

"I—" She pointed at herself. "I can't..." She looked genuinely horrified.

And honestly? Fair.

Then an idea appeared. Completely out of nowhere. Maybe from stress. Maybe from desperation. Maybe from temporary insanity. I had no idea. But suddenly it made perfect sense.

"Okay."

Laura frowned.

"Okay what?"

"This morning has been a disaster."

No argument there.

"My grandmother is coming."

Still true.

"We have two weeks."

Unfortunately true.

"And we know almost nothing about each other."

Laura crossed her arms.

"Also true."

I took a breath. Then I said the most unexpected thing I'd said in years.

"Come away with me."

Silence.

Laura stared.

"What?"

"I have a cabin by the sea."

She continued staring. I continued regretting my life choices.

"A cabin?"

"Yes."

"You?"

"Believe it or not, I occasionally leave my office."

That earned me a look. Progress.

I continued before I lost my nerve.

"We need space to think."

Laura remained silent.

"We need a plan."

Still silence.

"We need to figure out how to survive my grandmother."

Nothing.

I was running out of arguments.

Fast.

"Fresh air?"

Nothing.

"The ocean?"

Nothing.

"We won't have to look at my father?"

That one almost worked. Almost.

Finally Laura sighed. Long and slow.

Then she looked directly at me.

"Why?"

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

Because the truth sounded ridiculous. Because I didn't fully understand it myself. Because somewhere between dinner, breakfast, and my father's disaster announcement, something had changed.

"We're supposed to convince my grandmother we've been married for ten years."

Laura nodded cautiously. I met her gaze.

"Maybe we should start by learning each other's favorite color."

For the first time all morning, Laura smiled. Just a little. But it was enough.

"Okay."

I stared.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

She shook her head.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."

"Neither can I."

And somehow, that was the most honest conversation we'd ever had.

"We're going."