Chapter 3 - The Agreement

TWO WEEKS LATER 

Emma wears a silk dress and holds a bouquet of flowers that is clearly artificial. She sits in the waiting room, thrumming with nerves. On what should be a day to celebrate her 25th birthday, she is instead about to marry someone she does not love. Sophia walks in, eyes glued to her phone, popping gum without a care. 

“Hey, Mum’s looking for you… she’s really mad,” Sophia says, not lifting her gaze from her phone. 

“I’m not going. Do you even care about what’s happening?”

 “Girl, why would I? I’m glad Mum didn’t pick me,” Sophia Replies. 

“So you won’t even miss me?… the fact I’d be gone?” Emma said, her voice cracking 

Sophia never even looked up. She just turned and walked out of the waiting room. A few moments later, Emma wiped the tears from her face and stepped out too. Her father was already waiting by the door, ready to walk her down the aisle.

“I’m so sorry about this, princess,” Mr. Grayson says.

Emma doesn't even look at him. “You should watch Sophia. She’s been scarce lately.”

Mr. Grayson glances over at Sophia, who is smiling right at her sister. He places Emma’s hand in Liam’s, then steps back to his seat.

Emma stares at Liam as she repeats the vows. He looks different from how he did just two weeks ago, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo and neat bow tie. At the part where he was meant to kiss the bride, Liam held up a hand to stop the priest, indicating he wanted to skip that part and go straight to declaring them married.

After everything, their parents took pictures like they hadn’t just forced them into marriage – all grinning brightly for the camera. 

“You know you need to smile, to make it look real,” Liam said coldly. Emma just signed and forced a faked smile. 

“Are we going to live with your father?” Emma asked, as her family walked her toward Liam’s car.

 “I have a penthouse downtown,” Liam replied.

As Liam drove through the wrought – iron gates, the penthouse came into view. Sections of its exterior were made entirely of glass, glinting softly in the light. He pulled up and parked right by the main entrance. Unlike at Mr James’ estate, there was no butler waiting to greet them. Emma stepped out of  the car, her eyes wide as she took it all in. Though her family was comfortably well-off, she had never actually stood this close to a penthouse of such scale before. 

“This looks really nice,” said Emma. “Thanks– I usually come here when I need a break from work or my dad,” replied Liam.

Liam shows her the bedroom. Emma is a bit amazed at the room: a large upholstered bed sits against the center wall, dressed with white sheets and dark gray pillows. Even the window is made entirely of glass. 

“So we’re sleeping here?” 

“Oh no… you are. My room is upstairs,” said Liam. 

Emma is surprised — she’d assumed they’d share the same room. They don’t even like each other, so why would they?

“Let me let you rest. We'll probably talk about some ground rules tomorrow.” Before Emma could respond, he walked away. 

Ground rules? What does he mean by that? Emma thought. 

She took off the wedding dress and had a shower. She realized her own clothes weren’t there — but when she checked the closet, she found her suitcases. She put on the nightdress and laid down. It wasn't long before she fell asleep.

Emma woke to the sound of glass breaking. When she went to check, she found a woman in the kitchen. 

“So sorry, miss — didn’t mean to wake you. the glass just slipped,” said the lady, who was dressed as a maid. 

“It’s okay. I didn’t know Liam had staff here.” 

"He calls when he needs me,” the woman replied.

The breaking glass had startled Emma, and she couldn’t fall back asleep. Liam, on the other hand, was getting ready for work. When he walked into the kitchen, he found Emma already having breakfast. 

“Good morning,” Liam greeted her.

“Did you… sleep well?” Emma asked. 

“Here’s my black card–get whatever you need. I don’t like being disturbed while I am at work,”he said, ignoring her question.

Emma couldn’t believe it. Is this how it’s going to be? Miserable in this marriage? “I don’t need it. I want to start looking for work. I don’t need your money,” Emma said. 

Liam dropped the card on the counter anyway.

“You don’t need a job… As my wife, you can’t be seen looking for work–otherwise rumors will spread,” Liam said firmly. “If you want to go shopping or whatever you girls do, there’s a driver and a bodyguard waiting for you.”

 “Are you implying I should just be a housewife? And I don’t really care about the Smith’s reputation— I just don’t want to be dependent on anyone. I’m going to find a job whether you like it or not!” With that, Emma stormed out.

She didn’t know when she’d started crying. Her whole life was just falling apart. She’d gotten married on her birthday, and now she was supposed to be nothing but a housewife. Why did her own mother hate her this much?

 She called her dad. 

“Hey, sweetie,” he answered.

 “Dad… I want to come home,” Emma said, her voice breaking.

 “Are you okay? Is he hurting you?” Mr. Greyson asked, his voice thick with worry. 

Emma let out a loud sob. She didn’t like this arrangement… but it was for the family, wasn’t it?

“Emma,Emma, you have to stop crying.” Mrs. Greyson had snatched the phone right out of her father's hands. And Emma knew then– she was going to have to get used to this life. 

She overheard her father, still on the line:

“Don’t be too hard on her. You know she was forced into this,” her dad pleaded.

“She has to do whatever it takes to keep this family together–” 

The line went dead.