The Rules We Make
1015 Words
The contract sat between us.
A few pages that would change both of our lives.
I had spent the last few days reminding myself of one thing.
This was a deal.
Damon Cross needed a wife.
I needed financial security for my family.
Nothing more.
“Ask your questions.”
Damon opened the contract.
“Adjustments can be made where necessary.”
I looked down at the pages.
“The protection clause.”
His eyes moved toward me.
“It says I will be protected from media exposure during the contract period.”
“Yes.”
“Does that include anything beyond the media?”
“Yes.” His answer was immediate. “Your privacy, reputation, and personal safety.”
I paused.
That was more than I expected.
“Fine.” I nodded.
“That stays.”
Damon made a note.
No argument.
No unnecessary explanation.
Typical Damon.
I continued.
“The living arrangement.”
He waited.
“Separate bedrooms and private spaces.”
“Yes.”
“Then why include the additional condition?”
Damon looked at me.
“Because a marriage needs to appear real.”
I understood.
The public.
The media.
The people watching us.
But I still didn’t like it.
“The contract doesn’t force anything?”
“No.”
His answer surprised me.
“If you don’t agree, it won’t happen.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
I turned the page.
“The confidentiality agreement.”
Damon waited.
“I need one exception.”
“Who?”
“Chloe Carter. My best friend.”
I looked at him.
“She will notice if my entire life changes overnight.”
A moment of silence.
Then Damon picked up his pen.
“Chloe Carter is excluded.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
I studied him.
“You don’t need more information?”
“No.”
“Why?”
His expression remained calm.
“Because she matters to you.”
For some reason, that answer stayed with me.
I looked back at the contract.
Everything we'd discussed at dinner had been reflected in writing.
Damon noticed where my eyes had stopped.
“Any issue?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Then we continue.”
I looked at the next page.
Special Clause.
My expression changed.
The first clause was simple.
The wife shall not develop romantic feelings toward the husband.
I stared at the sentence, then looked up.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
I almost laughed.
“Do you really think that will happen?”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly.
That annoyed me.
“Then why write it?”
“Because emotions create complications.”
Of course.
Everything was a calculation to Damon Cross.
I continued reading.
The wedding ring must be worn at all times.
Public appearances must be arranged.
The couple must maintain a convincing relationship.
I frowned.
“Public appearances?”
“Yes.”
“Such as?”
“Events. Dinners. Dates.”
“Dates?”
Damon looked at me.
“Yes.”
I glanced at the contract.
“This is still business.”
"Exactly."
I ignored that answer.
The final clause required appropriate physical contact in public when necessary.
I closed the document.
“This contract really does cover everything.”
“That is the purpose.”
I looked at him.
“One more condition.”
Damon waited.
“When this contract ends, we separate completely.”
His expression changed slightly.
“Explain.”
“No unnecessary contact. I want to return to my own life.”
A pause.
“And the protection you promised.”
“It remains.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
Damon studied me.
“You may ask for anything else.”
I shook my head.
“The agreement is enough.”
“You could ask for more.”
“I don’t need more.”
For the first time, Damon didn’t answer immediately.
Maybe he was surprised.
Most people wanted something from him.
I didn’t want his world.
I only wanted to protect mine.
“Shall we sign?”
He looked at me, then picked up his pen.
We signed at the same time.
The moment my name appeared on the paper, everything changed.
One year.
That was the agreement.
One year beside Damon Cross.
Outside the restaurant, the cold air hit my face.
I looked at the contract in my hand.
A decision I never imagined making.
But one I couldn’t regret.
Damon walked beside me.
The driver was already waiting.
As we approached the car, his hand suddenly rested on my waist.
I turned toward him.
“What are you doing?”
His expression remained unchanged.
“Don’t move.”
Before I could ask why, he pulled me closer.
Then he kissed me.
Somewhere across the street...
A camera shutter clicked.
Followed by the faintest flash disappearing into the night.
I froze.
Not because I expected it.
Because I didn’t.
The moment ended quickly.
I pushed him away.
“What was that?”
Damon looked at me.
“We’re in public.”
I looked around.
“There is no one here.”
His eyes moved briefly toward the street, then back to me.
“Not anymore.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
But Damon didn’t answer.
He simply opened the car door.
I stood there for a moment, trying to understand him.
This man had rules for everything.
Except apparently surprising me.
I got into the car.
And for the first time since signing the contract, I wondered if marrying Damon Cross would be harder than I thought.
“Where to, Mr. Cross?” the driver asked.
Damon looked forward.
“My residence.”
I turned toward him.
“The moving arrangements.”
“I'll have the relocation team contact you tomorrow.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“I want to pack my own things.”
A pause.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
The car continued through the city.
Tomorrow, everyone would know.
Damon Cross was getting married.
And the woman beside him...
was me.
- Writer
