LOVE BY PROXY

Chapter 2: The Residency Requirement (Day 365)Untitled Episode

"You have to live WHERE?"

Maya’s voice was so loud through the phone that Nate could hear it from across the room. He was sprawling on my couch, still processing the meeting from two hours ago.

"The Whitmore Estate," I repeated, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear as I poured wine. "For the full twelve months."

"That creepy Victorian mansion on Hillcrest? The one that looks like the Addams Family summer home?"

"It's not creepy, it’s… historical."

"Sophie, there are gargoyles."

"Decorative gargoyles." I took a long sip of wine. "Look, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow."

I hung up before Maya could launch into the interrogation I knew was coming. Everyone was going to have questions. That was the problem with dating someone for seven years, our lives had become so intertwined that untangling them, even fake untangling, was going to be a production.

"So," Nate said, accepting the wine glass I handed him, "we need to talk about the elephant in the room."

"The fact that I have to live in a mansion rent-free for a year?"

"The fact that I apparently live there too."

I tried not to think about that part. When Edmund had explained the residency requirement, it seemed straightforward enough: I had to live in the estate, maintain it, learn "independence and self-sufficiency." Fine. Weird, but fine.

Then he’d pulled out another document.

Apparently, three years ago, when Great-Aunt Miriam had her kitchen renovated, Nate had helped oversee the project as a favor. He’d done such a good job that Miriam had insisted on adding him to the property lease as a "valued tenant" with a five-year term. She’d thought she was being nice, giving him a legal connection to the property in case he ever needed it.

What she’d actually done was create a legal nightmare.

"Edmund said you can't be evicted without cause," I said slowly. "And going through the eviction process would require lawyers and court dates and…"

"And would definitely make people suspicious about why you’re trying so hard to kick out your ex," Nate finished.

"Right."

We sat in silence for a moment.

"This is insane," he said.

"Completely insane."

"We’d be living together. While pretending to be broken up."

"While being monitored by Edmund, who apparently makes 'random wellness checks' to ensure I’m complying with the terms."

Nate set down his wine glass. "Okay, let’s think about this logically. The mansion is huge, right? How many bedrooms?"

"Six, I think? Plus the servants’ quarters, but those haven’t been used in decades."

"So we could just… avoid each other. Separate wings. You do your thing, I do mine. As far as everyone knows, we broke up and you moved into your inherited mansion, and I’m just the pathetic ex who’s legally stuck there because of a technicality."

"That’s actually not bad," I said, warming to the idea. "People would believe that. It’s awkward enough to be true."

"Your mom would love it. 'Poor Sophie, stuck with that deadweight Nathan.'"

"She doesn’t think you’re deadweight…"

"Sophie."

"Okay, she might think you’re a little bit deadweight," I admitted. "But only because she has insane standards. You’re an architect, not a surgeon."

"Not even a real architect yet. Just a guy working for someone else’s firm, designing strip malls."

There was an edge to his voice that made me look up sharply. This was a sore spot; Nate had been saving to start his own firm for three years, but between rent, life, and helping his sister with her medical bills, the savings account never seemed to grow.

Ten million dollars would fix that. Ten million dollars would fix everything.

"We can do this," I said firmly. "It’s twelve months. We’ve been together for seven years. What’s twelve months apart?"

"While living in the same house."

"Big house."

"Being monitored by a lawyer."

"We’ll be careful."

Nate looked at me for a long moment. "You really want this."

It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. "I really want this. Don’t you?"

"I want you to have what you deserve," he said quietly. "And if your great-aunt thought you needed this year, maybe she saw something we don’t."

My chest tightened. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just…" Nate ran a hand through his hair. "You’re always talking about things you want to do. Painting again. Learning piano. Starting that blog. But you never actually do them."

"I’m busy…"

"You're comfortable," he corrected gently. "We both are. Maybe that’s not always a good thing."

I wanted to argue, but the words stuck in my throat. Because he wasn’t wrong. When was the last time I’d actually pushed myself? Tried something new? I’d been coasting for years, letting life happen to me instead of making it happen.

"So we do it," I said. "The full year. We break up publicly, I move into the mansion, you’re stuck there as the awkward ex-tenant, and we both… figure our s**t out."

"Language your great-aunt would approve of."

"She had seventeen cats named after philosophers. I think she’d appreciate the honesty."

Nate smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Okay. So what’s our story? How did we break up?"

"Oh god, we need a reason, don’t we?"

"A believable one. Something that makes sense after seven years."

I thought about it. "We could say we wanted different things? That’s classic."

"Too vague. People will ask for details."

"You cheated?"

"Thanks for that."

"I cheated?"

"Sophie, you apologize to inanimate objects when you bump into them. No one would believe you cheated."

"What about… we just grew apart?" I tried. "Realized we were more like roommates than partners?"

Nate flinched slightly, and I immediately regretted the words. But he nodded. "That works. It’s sad but believable. No one’s the bad guy."

"When do we tell people?"

"Soon. This week, maybe? Before Edmund starts his 'wellness checks' and someone sees us both at the mansion."

"We should post on social media," I said, already dreading it. "Nothing dramatic, just… changing our relationship status. People will figure it out."

"The modern breakup." Nate’s voice was wry. "What a time to be alive."

We finished our wine in silence, both lost in thought. Outside, the city lights twinkled, indifferent to the absurdity of our situation.

"Nate?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me that after this year, we’ll be okay. That we’re not actually going to grow apart."

He reached across the couch and took my hand. "We’re not going to grow apart, Soph. We’re just… taking a break. For ten million dollars."

"Just a break."

"Just a break," he echoed.

But as I looked at our intertwined fingers, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were about to step off a cliff. And unlike in movies, there was no guarantee we’d land safely on the other side.

My phone buzzed. A text from Edmund: Please confirm your move-in date for the estate. I’ll need to schedule the first wellness check accordingly. Also, Mr. Cross will need to sign updated tenant documentation.

"It’s really happening," I whispered.

Nate squeezed my hand. "It’s really happening."

"Day 365 starts when?"

"Edmund said as soon as you take residence. So… this weekend?"

"This weekend," I repeated. Three days. We had three days before everything changed.

Three days before we went from couple to ex-couple.

Three days before we moved into a mansion together while pretending we couldn’t stand each other.

Three days before the longest year of our lives began.

"We should probably tell our families first," Nate said. "Before it’s on social media."

I groaned. "My mom is going to be insufferable."

"My sister is going to try to set me up with her coworker."

"The one with the ferret?"

"She got a second ferret."

"That’s a dealbreaker."

We both laughed, and for a moment, it felt normal. Like we were just Nate and me, making jokes on my couch like we had a thousand times before.

But then Nate stood up, grabbing his jacket. "I should go. Start packing, I guess."

"You don’t have to…" I started, then stopped. We were practicing, weren’t we? This was what exes did. They didn’t spend the night anymore.

"Yeah," Nate said softly. "I do."

At the door, he hesitated. "Sophie?"

"Yeah?"

"Your great-aunt might’ve been crazy, but she wasn’t wrong. You are a whole meal."

Before I could respond, he was gone.

I stood in my empty apartment, listening to the silence, and wondered if I’d just made the best decision of my life or the biggest mistake.

My phone buzzed again. Maya: You’re living with your EX? Girl, call me back RIGHT NOW.

I sighed. The interrogation was inevitable.

But first, I had a breakup to announce to the world.

I opened i********:, stared at the relationship status button, and hesitated.

365 days. That was all.

What could possibly go wrong?