WHEN THE CONTRACTS ENDS

chapter 1 The words came out of his mouth so casually, like he was discussing the weather or what to have for lunch. "I'm filing for divorce next week." Richard did not even look up from his laptop when he said it. His fingers kept moving across the keyboard, his eyes fixed on the screen like I was not even standing there. Like the last two years of our marriage meant absolutely nothing. I stood near the doorway of his study, holding the coffee I had just made for him. My hands started shaking, but I forced them to stay steady. I could not let him see how much his words hurt. I had learned that much in two years. Never show Richard Hartwell that he had the power to break you. "With Victoria?" I asked quietly. He stopped typing. For a moment, I thought he might actually look at me. But he did not. "Yes," he said. "I'm not asking for your permission, Grace. I'm informing you." I nodded slowly, even though he was not looking. The coffee cup felt heavy in my hands. I set it down on the small table near the door because I did not trust myself to walk all the way to his desk without dropping it. "I understand," I said. "Good." He went back to typing. "My lawyer will contact you about the settlement. You'll be taken care of financially. That was part of the agreement." The agreement. He meant the contract that Emmanuel had made him sign two years ago, right before I became Mrs. Richard Hartwell. Emmanuel, my father's old business partner, the only person who had cared enough to save me from drowning in debt after my father died. He had gone to Richard with a proposal. Marry Grace, clear her father's debts, and in return, Richard would get access to the patent my father had created before his death. A patent worth millions. Richard had agreed. Not because he wanted to. Not because he cared about me. But because he needed that patent for his tech company. And I had agreed too. Because what choice did I have? I was twenty three years old, alone, and buried under debts I could never pay. But Emmanuel had made Richard promise one thing. Treat her well. Treat her like a real wife. Richard had never kept that promise. "I have a request," I said, surprised by how calm my voice sounded. He sighed, the kind of sigh that said he was already annoyed. "What is it?" "Give me three months." Now he looked up. His dark eyes met mine for the first time in weeks. "Three months for what?" I swallowed hard. This was it. My last chance to have something, anything, from this marriage before it ended. "Three months of being your wife. Your real wife." Richard leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Are you serious right now?" "Yes." "Grace, this is not a movie. You can't just ask me to pretend to love you for three months." "I'm not asking you to love me," I said quickly. My cheeks burned, but I kept talking. "I know you love Victoria. I've always known. I'm just asking you to treat me the way a husband should treat his wife. Have dinner with me. Talk to me. Let me be... visible." He stared at me like I had lost my mind. Maybe I had. But I did not care anymore. "After three months," I continued, "I'll sign whatever papers you want. I'll leave quietly. I won't ask for anything beyond what's in the contract. You'll never hear from me again." Richard rubbed his temples. "This is insane." "It's three months of your life, Richard. You've already given me two years. What's three more months?" He stood up and walked to the window, his back to me. I could see his reflection in the glass, the hard line of his jaw, the way his shoulders were tense. "Why?" he asked. "Why do you want this?" Because I need something to remember. Because I want to know what it feels like to matter to someone, even if it's fake. Because I'm so tired of being invisible. But I did not say any of that. "Because I deserve it," I said instead. "I've been your wife for two years. I've never complained. I've never caused problems. I've stayed out of your way. But before this ends, I want to know what it would have been like if you had actually tried." The silence stretched between us. I counted the seconds in my head. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. "Fine," he said finally. I blinked. "What?" "Three months." He turned to face me. "But after that, you're gone. And I mean gone, Grace. No coming back. No regrets. No second thoughts." "I understand." "And don't expect me to suddenly become some romantic fool. I'll have dinner with you. I'll be civil. But that's it." "That's all I'm asking for." He picked up his phone and started scrolling through it, dismissing me. "We start tomorrow. I have plans tonight." Plans with Victoria, I thought. Of course. "Okay," I said. I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me. "Grace." I looked back at him. "Don't make me regret this." I wanted to laugh. How could he regret something he had never wanted in the first place? But I just nodded and walked out of his study. My hands were still shaking when I got back to my room. I sat on the edge of my bed and pressed my palms against my knees, trying to breathe normally. Three months. Ninety days. It was not much. But maybe, just maybe, it would be enough. Enough for what, I was not sure yet. But I would figure it out. I had to. Because after three months, I would be gone. And I needed to make sure I left with something more than just pain and regret. I needed to leave with a piece of him, even if he never knew it.