Chapter Two
1387 Words
Penelope stared at the contract long after his words stopped echoing in her ears.
Seven years start now.
Her fingers trembled as she turned the page again, as if the words might change if she looked twice.
They didn’t.
She swallowed and kept reading.
Her name was there. Clean. Clear. Signed.
I signed this, she thought numbly.
I actually signed this.
Adrian stood a few steps away, watching her like he was waiting for something to break.
“It was easy, can’t say I’m surprise, you didn’t bother to read it” he said without smiling.
It wasn’t a question.
“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t.”
She didn’t think to. She remembered that day clearly. The courthouse. The rush.
The way her phone wouldn’t stop vibrating with messages from the hospital.
Daniel needs the payment today.
Treatment can’t be delayed.
She was so relieved when Adrian’s lawyer said everything was ready.
She had been too excited. Too desperate.
“You were in a hurry,” Adrian continued. “You always are when you want something.”
Her chest tightened.
“I trusted you,” she said quietly.
“That was your second mistake,” he replied.
What was the first? She thought
She turned another page.
Emotional obligations: None required.
Her breath caught.
“So you don’t have to…” She hesitated. “You don’t have to treat me like a wife.”
He shrugged slightly. “Amazing, I don’t have to explain it.”
Her fingers moved down the page.
Public appearances: Mandatory.
Private discretion: At husband’s sole authority.
Her throat went dry.
“This means,” she said slowly, “I can’t refuse.”
“You can,” Adrian said calmly. “You’ll just pay the penalty.”
She looked back at the number.
One billion dollars.
Her vision became cloudy.
“I don’t have that kind of money,” she whispered.
“Well, not on own, I’m sure your parent will be willing to give you the….,” he said. “Oh wait, you can’t even ask”
The way he said it made her stomach turn.
She flipped another page.
The words became colder.
Sharper.
More controlled.
Restrictions everywhere.
“This was very well planned,” she said softly.
“Yes,” Adrian replied without hesitation.
Her heart felt heavier than her small frame could take.
“This isn’t anger,” she said. “This is punishment.”
“That’s what I said,” he answered.
Her fingers stopped at a section marked in bold.
Infidelity Clause.
Her chest tightened.
“What does this mean?” she asked.
Adrian’s lips curved slightly.
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
“But it’s vague,” she said, reading carefully. “It doesn’t say!”
“That’s intentional,” he interrupted.
She looked up at him, her breath shallow, searching his face for mercy she wasn’t sure existed.
“If I decide you’ve been unfaithful,” he continued, “the marriage term resets.”
Her breath left her lungs.
“Resets?” she repeated.
“Seven more years,” he said.
Her hands shook.
“That’s not fair,” she said weakly.
He laughed quietly.
“You really like that word,” he said. “Fair.”
She pressed her lips together.
“This gives you too much power,” she said.
“Yes,” he replied. “That’s the point.”
Silence filled the room again.
Penelope felt like the walls were slowly closing in.
This is worse than I imagined, she thought.
This is not a marriage. It’s a cage.
“You will live here,” Adrian said. “You will attend events with me. You will smile when required.”
“And in private?” she asked.
He met her gaze.
“In private, you will not exist unless I say so.”
Her chest ached.
“I thought you were different,” she whispered.
“You thought wrong,” he replied.
She closed the contract slowly and placed it back on the bed.
“So what happens now?” she asked.
“Now,” Adrian said, “you stay.”
Her heart pounded.
“For how long?” she asked, even though she already knew.
He stepped closer.
“Didn’t you just read the contract?”
The words settled heavily between them.
“I didn’t come back to hurt you,” she said quietly.
He scoffed.
“You didn’t come back out of love either.”
She couldn’t deny that.
But she had’nt expected this.
“I knew you would hate me,” she said carefully, “I didn’t think you’d destroy me.”
His eyes hardened.
“You destroyed me first.”
She clenched her fists.
“You keep saying that,” she said. “But you won’t tell me how.”
He leaned down slightly, his voice low.
“You know exactly what you did.”
She held his gaze, her heart racing.
“I don’t,” she said.
For a brief second, something flickered across his face like he believed me.
Then it vanished.
“Liar,” he said.
Fear crept deeper into her chest.
He truly believes this, she realized.
Whatever she did… he believes I did it.
“If I try to explain,” she asked slowly, “will you listen?”
“No,” he said.
The answer was immediate.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because explanations don’t change facts,” he replied. “And because you’ve already used your chance.”
She swallowed hard.
“So what am I to you?” she asked.
He straightened.
“A mistake I won’t repeat.” he said.
The words cut deep.
“Nothing more?” she asked.
“Nothing less,” he replied coldly.
Her hands trembled at her sides.
“I’m still your wife,” she said softly.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Legally.”
She looked down.
Daniel, she thought desperately.
Please let this be worth it.
“You won’t leave this house without permission,” Adrian continued. “You won’t speak to the press. You won’t embarrass me.”
“And if I do?” she asked.
“You’ll regret it,” he said simply.
She nodded slowly.
“I understand,” she said.
His eyes traced her slowly, as though weighing each breath she took.
“You always were good at surviving,” he said. “That hasn’t changed.”
Her chest tightened.
She wasn’t sure if that was an insult or a warning.
He turned toward the door.
“Get some rest,” he said. “Tomorrow, you start playing your role.”
She looked up.
“What role?” she asked.
He paused.
“My wife,” he said. “In public.”
The door closed behind him.
The sound echoed loudly in the room.
Penelope stood alone.
She sank onto the bed slowly, the contract still lying between the white sheets like a threat.
I thought I married a good man, she thought.
I was so wrong.
She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
Seven years.
Seven years of silence.
Seven years of pretending.
She picked up the contract again and flipped through the pages one last time.
If I leave, I lose nothing, I am not Isabella, she thought.
If I leave, I lose Daniel,
If I stay… I lose myself.
Her phone buzzed softly.
Her pulse slammed hard enough that she felt it in her throat.
She checked the screen.
A message from the hospital.
Congratulation! Daniel’s treatment has begun.
Tears filled her eyes.
She pressed the phone to her chest.
Then I’ll stay, she thought.
No matter what.
The door opened again.
Adrian stepped back inside.
She quickly wiped her now wet face.
He walked toward her and stopped close enough that she could hear his breathing.
He leaned down, his voice low and deliberate.
“And I promise you,” he said softly enough for the word to echo, “this marriage will hurt more than leaving ever did.”
He straightened his suit and walked away.
The door closed again.
Penelope sat frozen on the bed, his words ringing in her ears.
Then I’ll endure it, she told herself.
For Daniel. For seven years.
But deep down, she knew.
This was only the beginning.
- Writer
