Chapter 2

The soft humming of the air conditioning was the only sound that kept Tymm company the next morning. Sunlight filtered through the glass walls of the bedroom, casting a golden glow over the minimalist space that still didn’t feel like hers.

She had barely slept. When she did drift off, her dreams were a blur of faces she didn’t recognize, voices from the wedding echoing like distant thunder. Every time she opened her eyes, it took a moment to remember where she was—and who she was now.

Tymm Salvador.

The name didn’t feel real yet.

She stepped into the walk-in closet, its sleek design and expensive scent screaming of wealth. Her clothes were all arranged neatly—too neatly. Someone else had done this for her. Someone else had mapped out this life, and now she was supposed to wear it like it fit.

After a quick shower, she dressed in a soft ivory blouse and beige trousers—simple, clean, and quietly elegant. She looked like a Salvador wife should.

She didn’t feel like one.

In the kitchen, she found Harrison already seated at the dining counter, coffee in one hand, his eyes skimming through the morning paper on a tablet. He looked completely at ease, dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored slacks. The kind of man who woke up already composed.

He looked up as she walked in. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she replied, surprised by how natural it sounded.

“There’s coffee, and the housekeeper left some breakfast in the warmer.”

Tymm poured herself a cup of black coffee, her fingers wrapping around the mug more for comfort than caffeine. She wasn’t hungry, but she sat anyway, opposite him. For a few minutes, silence settled again—but this time, it didn’t feel as sharp as the night before.

She glanced at him from behind her cup. “You always this quiet in the morning?”

He looked up again. “Only when I don’t know what to say.”

She blinked. That was honest—unexpectedly so.

“I don’t bite,” she said, the corner of her lips twitching.

“I know,” Harrison replied, and for the first time, she thought she saw the trace of a smile—real and fleeting.

They ate in silence after that. She picked at a croissant, he finished his eggs, and neither of them brought up the wedding, the awkwardness of last night, or the fact that they were now legally bound until… what? Death? Divorce?

A contract with no expiration date.

After breakfast, Harrison stood and reached for his keys. “I have meetings until late this afternoon. I left the driver for you in case you want to go out.”

“Thanks,” she said, surprised by the courtesy.

He paused, hand on the door. “I’m not expecting anything from you, Tymm. You’re not... obligated to do anything just because of this marriage.”

That sentence sat heavy in the air.

“I know,” she said. “But we live together now. I think we should at least learn how to co-exist.”

Harrison nodded slowly. “Fair enough.”

And then he was gone.

Tymm wandered through the unit for the rest of the morning. It was luxurious, no doubt. A spacious den filled with designer furniture. Floor-to-ceiling shelves of business books, a few classic novels tucked in between. A balcony overlooking the skyline. A piano in the far corner of the living area—glossy and untouched.

She ran her fingers over the keys, playing a soft note. Music had once been her escape. A world she could disappear into when reality became too heavy.

Now, it felt like the one piece of her old self that hadn’t been erased.

She spent the afternoon walking through Greenbelt, trying to blend into a life she didn’t yet belong to. People passed by her—some recognizing her from news headlines, others just admiring her polished look. A few offered smiles.

None of them knew she was living a life someone else had scripted.

That evening, Harrison returned later than expected. Tymm was in the kitchen, heating up leftover pasta when she heard the door open. He looked exhausted, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and for the first time, she noticed something human in his posture—like the weight of the world was sitting on his shoulders.

“Long day?” she asked gently.

He nodded. “Family business. Meetings with lawyers.”

Tymm didn’t pry, but she offered a bowl. “I made too much. Want some?”

He hesitated, clearly surprised, then walked over and accepted it with a quiet, “Thanks.”

They sat at the island again, this time with a little less silence.

“It’s weird,” she said after a while, twirling her fork. “Being married to someone I barely know.”

Harrison glanced at her. “Yeah. It is.”

She turned to face him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you say yes to this?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His jaw tightened slightly. Then, without looking at her, he said, “Because I owe my grandfather more than I can explain. And because… I’ve learned that expectations are dangerous when it comes to love.”

That last line caught her off guard.

“Have you ever been in love?” she asked quietly.

He looked at her finally, his eyes sharp but not unkind. “Once. It didn’t end well.”

There was a pause. Not heavy, but revealing.

Tymm nodded. “Same here. I mean… I loved the idea of love. I just never got to experience it fully.”

They both went quiet again. The kind of silence that meant something.

This wasn’t love. Not yet. Maybe never.

But tonight, they were no longer strangers eating dinner in a shared condo.

They were two people carrying different kinds of pain.

And for the first time, maybe… they weren’t completely alone.