No Contract
1105 Words
**Chapter 15: Us. No Contract.**
8:02 PM.
Eliza stood outside Damian’s penthouse in Accra. Black dress. Bare feet in heels. No ring. No paper.
Her hand shook over the doorbell.
Before she could press it, the door opened.
Damian.
No suit. Black Henley. Sleeves pushed up. Hair still wet. He looked tired. Human.
He didn’t say anything.
"Hey," Eliza whispered.
"Hey," he said back.
He stepped aside.
The penthouse was quiet. No files. No laptop glow. Just candles on the dining table. Two plates. One bottle of wine. Unopened.
"You didn’t have to—" she started.
"I wanted to," Damian cut in. "No assistant. No chef. Just me."
Eliza walked in. He closed the door. Locked it.
No traps.
They sat.
The food was store-bought. He didn’t hide it. "I ordered. I can’t cook."
Eliza laughed. First real one in weeks. "Good. I can’t either."
They ate. Awkward. Then easier.
"You really fired Maya?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And tore Clause 12.1?"
"Confetti," he said. "My lawyer quit on the spot."
Eliza put her fork down. "The board will kill you."
"Let them," Damian said. "I’m done being CEO of a lie."
Silence.
"I thought M was Mason," Eliza said.
"It was," Damian nodded. "My brother. He’s been texting you to break us."
"Why?"
"Because if I lose you, I’m alone again," Damian said. "And he thinks that makes me easier to control."
Eliza stared at him. "Are you alone now?"
Damian looked at her. "No. Not if you stay."
No contract. Just a question.
After dinner, they didn’t go to a bedroom. They went to the couch.
Damian pulled a throw blanket over both of them. "Cold?"
"No," Eliza said. "Safe."
He went still. "Safe?"
"Yeah," she said. "For the first time since I signed your name."
Damian’s arm came around her shoulders. He didn’t pull her in. He just… held.
They talked.
She told him about her mom’s hospital bills. Why she said yes to the 3-month marriage.
He told her about his dad. How Hale Corp was all he had. Until her.
No CEO. No wife-for-hire. Just Damian. Just Eliza.
At 11:40 PM, Eliza stood. "I should go."
Damian stood too. "Or don’t."
Eliza looked at the door. Then at him.
She sat back down.
He didn’t kiss her. He handed her his hoodie. "Guest room’s open. Or… mine is too. Your choice."
She took the hoodie. "Yours."
He nodded. No smirk. No win. Just relief.
She slept in his t-shirt. He slept on top of the covers.
No pressure.
---
**Morning**
Sunlight. Coffee. Burnt toast.
Eliza walked out in Damian’s shirt. Hair everywhere.
Damian was at the stove. Cursing quietly.
"You’re bad at this," she said.
"At toast?"
"At being normal."
He handed her the black toast. "I’m learning."
She took a bite. Pulled a face. He laughed. She laughed too.
His phone buzzed on the counter. Mason.
`You lost. -M`
Damian picked it up. Looked at Eliza. Then blocked the number. Threw the phone in a drawer.
"I choose you," he said.
Eliza nodded. "I choose you too."
---
**One Week Later**
Press room. Cameras.
"I am stepping down as CEO of Hale Corp," Damian said to the mic. "Effective immediately."
Reporters shouted. "Why?"
"Because I was running my marriage like a company," he said. "With clauses. With exits. I’m done."
He looked past the cameras. At Eliza in the back. Jeans. No label. No title.
"Mrs. Cole and I are starting over," he said. "No contract. Just us."
The internet exploded.
Eliza’s phone blew up. One text stood out. Unknown number: `You won. -M`
She deleted it.
---
**Epilogue: 6 Months Later**
No penthouse.
Two-bedroom flat. Accra. Second floor. No elevator.
Damian works 9 to 5 now. Runs a small foundation. Eliza helps.
One night, Eliza was in the bathroom a long time.
She came out holding a stick. Two lines.
Damian was on the couch. Book, not files.
"Damian," she said.
He looked up.
She showed him.
He dropped the book. Crossed the room. Knelt. Put his ear to her stomach.
"Hi," he whispered.
Eliza cried. He did too.
No contract made that baby.
Just them.
---
**Three Weeks Later**
Eliza’s hands were still shaking.
She sat on the edge of their bed. The pregnancy test on the nightstand. Two lines.
Damian hadn’t moved from the floor. His head was still on her stomach.
"You’re really there," he whispered. "Both of you."
Eliza laughed through tears. "We are."
He looked up at her. CEO Damian. The man who bought companies before breakfast.
And he was crying.
"Are you scared?" she asked.
"Terrified," he said. "I’ve never been responsible for something I can’t control."
Eliza brushed his hair back. "You don’t have to control it. You just have to be here."
He nodded. Pressed his forehead to hers. "I’m here. For both of you. Always."
No contract. No clause. Just a promise.
---
**Two Months Later**
They told his family first.
His mother cried. His father didn’t speak for ten minutes. Then he said, "You’re doing it right this time, son."
Mason didn’t come. He sent a card. No name. Just `Congratulations.`
Eliza kept it.
They moved the crib into their room. Second-hand. Eliza insisted. "We’re not using Hale Corp money for this," she said.
Damian didn’t argue. He built it. Took him 6 hours and 3 YouTube videos.
"You’re terrible at this," Eliza said, watching him with the screwdriver.
"At cribs?"
"At being normal."
He tightened the last screw. "I’m learning."
---
**Four Months Later**
Eliza’s bump was showing.
They were in the market in Accra. No driver. No security. Just them.
A woman stopped them. "You’re the Cole’s? From the news?"
Damian tensed.
Eliza smiled. "We are."
The woman looked at Eliza’s stomach. "You look happy."
"We are," Eliza said.
Damian’s hand found hers. "Very."
No cameras. No press. Just a market.
---
**Night Before the Due Date**
Eliza couldn’t sleep.
Damian was awake too. Hand on her stomach.
"What if I’m bad at this?" he whispered.
"What if I am?" Eliza whispered back.
They looked at each other in the dark.
"Then we’ll be bad together," Damian said. "And we’ll figure it out."
Eliza smiled. "Us. No contract."
"Us. No contract," he repeated.
She fell asleep like that.
The room was quiet. Just their breathing.
Damian’s hand didn’t leave her stomach. "Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?" Eliza asked, eyes closed.
"For choosing us," he said. "When I didn’t deserve it."
Eliza reached for his hand in the dark. Squeezed. "We’re choosing each other. Every day."
No paper. No lawyer. No clause.
Just them.
THE END
- Writer
