The Kiss Clause
1125 Words
3 days after the hospital, the mansion was quiet. Too quiet.
Ava avoided Damien. Damien avoided Ava.
But everyone felt it. Even Mrs. Clarke gave them looks.
On Friday, Damien found Ava in the library. Again.
“You’re here a lot,” he said.
“You don’t own books,” Ava said, not looking up.
Damien sat across from her. No laptop. No phone. Just him.
“The press wants another appearance,” he said. “Charity ball. Tomorrow night.”
Ava closed her book. “More lies?”
“More contract,” he corrected.
Ava stood. “I’m tired of the contract.”
Damien stood too. “Then stop signing things you don’t mean.”
“I meant to save my mom.”
“I know.”
That stopped her.
Damien’s voice was lower. “I know, Ava.”
She looked up. He used her name. Not Ms. Mensah.
For a second, neither spoke.
“You don’t have to keep paying for things,” Ava said quietly. “The hospital. The stylist. I can—”
“You can’t,” Damien cut in. “And I don’t want you to.”
“Why?”
Damien didn’t answer right away. He walked to the window.
“Because when you cried in that hallway,” he said, back to her, “you looked like you were breaking. And I... I couldn’t stand it.”
Ava’s heart stopped.
“That’s not business,” she whispered.
“No,” he said, turning. “It’s not.”
They were across the room. But it felt like nothing.
Damien walked to her. Slow.
“If I kiss you right now,” he said, “it’s not in the contract.”
Ava’s breath hitched. “Then don’t.”
“Or do,” she added, softer.
Damien’s hand came up. He brushed her hair back. His thumb at her jaw.
“You’re infuriating,” he said again.
“You’re stubborn,” she said.
“Good,” he murmured.
And he kissed her.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t fake. It was 6 months of tension, anger, worry, and something neither would name.
Ava’s hands went to his suit jacket. She pulled him closer.
He tasted like tea and something dangerous.
When they broke apart, both were breathing hard.
“That,” Damien said, forehead against hers, “was not business.”
Ava laughed. Shaky. Real. “No. It wasn’t.”
He pulled back just enough to see her. “So what now?”
Ava thought about the contract. 5 months left. Separate rooms. No feelings.
She tore the thought up.
“Now,” she said, “we rewrite the rules.”
Damien’s mouth twitched. A real smile this time.
“Deal.”
He kissed her forehead. Then her nose. Then her lips again. Gentle this time.
The library door was still open. Mrs. Clarke walked past, saw them, and smiled. She kept walking.
---
Later that night, Ava moved her toothbrush.
From the guest bathroom... to the master bathroom.
Damien said nothing when he saw it. He just opened the door wider.
“Separate rooms,” Ava said, dropping her bag.
“New rule,” Damien said. “Same room. Different bed. For now.”
Ava looked at the king bed. “For now?”
Damien’s eyes were dark. “Don’t push me, Ava.”
She didn’t. She smiled instead.
“Goodnight, Mr. Cole.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Cole.”
The lights went off.
6 months left. But for the first time, it didn’t feel like a prison.
It felt like the start.The lawyer slid the contract across Damien’s desk.
“Clause 8.2,” he said. “Public affection. For credibility.”
Ava’s eyes dropped to the page. `For the duration of this agreement, both parties agree to maintain the appearance of a genuine romantic relationship. This includes, but is not limited to: hand-holding, kissing, and shared social appearances.`
Her face went hot. “Kissing?”
Damien didn’t look at her. “It’s standard.”
“Standard?” Ava laughed, sharp. “We’re not married.”
“On paper, you are,” Damien said. “In 2 days.”
Ava stood up. “I need air.”
She walked to the window. Accra stretched below her. Small. Loud. Nothing like this glass tower.
Damien’s voice wasbehind her. “Ava.”
She didn’t turn. “What?”
“If this is too much, say it now. We can end this.”
Ava turned. “End it? My mum’s hospital bill is 200K. You think I can walk away?”
Damien’s jaw ticked. “Then don’t make it harder than it has to be.”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “Shall I leave you two?”
“Yes,” Damien said.
The door closed. Silence.
Ava crossed her arms. “So. Kiss clause.”
Damien leaned on his desk. “We don’t have to like it.”
“We just have to do it,” Ava said.
“Yes.”
She stepped closer. “For the cameras?”
“For the cameras,” Damien said.
She was right in front of him now. Close enough to see the scar on his jaw. Close enough to see his pulse jump.
“Then do it,” Ava said. “Get it over with.”
Damien’s eyes dropped to her mouth. Then back up.
“Ava,” he said, warning.
“What? You’re scared?”
Damien moved fast. His hand was on her waist. He pulled her in.
His mouth was on hers. Hard. No warning.
Ava gasped. Her hands went tohis chest. She should have pushed.
She didn’t.
He tasted like coffee and control. His other hand came up to her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek.
It lasted 3 seconds. Maybe 5.
He let go.
They were both breathing hard.
Damien stepped back. “Satisfied?”
Ava’s lips tingled. “That was… clinical.”
Damien’s eyes were dark. “Was it?”
Ava didn’t answer. She walked out.
---
That night, they moved rooms.
“New rule,” Damien said. “Same room. Different bed . For now.”
Ava looked at the king bed. Two pillows. One side rumpled. The other perfect.
“For now?” she said.
Damien’s eyes were dark. “Don’t push me, Ava.”
She didn’t. She smiled instead.
“Goodnight, Mr. Cole.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Cole.”
The lights went off.
Ava stared at the ceiling. She could hear him breathing.
Her lips still felt warm.
She told herself it was the clause. Just business.
But her hand went to her mouth in the dark.
6 months left.
But for the first time, it didn’t feel like a prison.
It felt like the start.
---
END OF CHAPTER 6
- Writer
