Chapter 4 The Marriage Deal

“Then marry me.”

I froze. My heart thundered against my ribs, and for a second, I couldn't even remember how to breathe.

Sam held my gaze. “Let's get married.”

For several seconds, I couldn't speak. The wind moved through the trees around us. Momo shifted beside my leg, his leash brushing against my wrist. “Are you proposing to me?”

Sam's expression changed slightly. “What?”

“You just said, ‘Let's get married.’” My voice rose an octave despite my attempt to keep it steady. “Are you actually proposing?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “No.”

My heart dropped before I could stop it.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “I mean—I'm not proposing because I suddenly realized I love you.”

The words landed harder than they should have. I looked away. My fingers tightened around Momo's leash. Why had I even asked?

Sam noticed the change in my face. “Caleste, that's not what I meant.”

“You don't have to explain.”

“I do.” He stepped closer.

“Think about it. If you pretend to date me, your mother can still say the relationship isn't serious. Adrian can still argue that you should marry him.”

I looked at him again. “So?”

“So marriage changes everything.” His voice was calm now, practical. “If we're already married, your mother can't make you marry Adrian.”

I stared at him. “You've thought this through in the last thirty seconds?”

“I've been thinking since you asked me to be your boyfriend.”

“That was five minutes ago.”

“Still enough time.”

A laugh almost escaped me. “So you want to marry me because it's more convenient?”

His expression tightened. “I want to help you.”

The answer came immediately. I gripped Momo's leash until the leather pressed into my palm. “You'd really go that far?”

Sam studied my face. “Yes.”

“Even though you don't love me?”

His eyes dropped for a moment. Then he looked back at me. “Yes.”

I swallowed hard. That was the part I hated. He was willing to marry me because he cared about me. Just not in the way I wanted.

“You know this is insane, right?”

“Probably.”

“You've known me for five years.”

“I know.”

“And you're suggesting we get married because my mother picked someone else for me.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds worse.”

A faint smile touched his mouth. Then it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“I'm serious, Caleste.”

“I know.”

I looked down at Momo. His tail moved lazily against my leg. He lifted his head and licked my hand. I took a slow breath.

“You suggested it.”

Sam nodded quietly, his expression firm.

“You can't pull away now.”

“I wasn't planning to.”

“Good.” I finally looked at him. “Then let's talk about the rules.”

---

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in the Aerie. The apartment was quiet.

The Aerie belonged to Vance, but after five years, Sam had somehow made one corner of it feel like his own. Warm wood, large windows overlooking the city, and a few photographs scattered across the shelves instead of carefully arranged decorations.

Beside his desk stood a transparent board covered with reef photographs, maps, notes, and colored markings showing the areas he was working to restore, monitor, and revisit. It was unmistakably Sam.

I sat on the sofa with Momo curled beside me.

Sam disappeared into the kitchen. “Tea?”

“Something cold.”

“Juice?”

“Fine.”

I watched him open the refrigerator. “You have anything sweet?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Franky?”

My eyes lifted. “You still have it?”

“You like it.”

He pulled the snack from the cupboard, placed it on a small plate, and brought everything over. He set the drink on the table before placing the plate beside it. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

He sat in the armchair opposite me. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I picked up the drink but didn't take a sip. Five years of loving him. And now I was sitting in his apartment negotiating the terms of our marriage.

I placed the cup down. “First rule.”

Sam straightened slightly.

“This marriage lasts one year.”

His eyebrows lifted. “One year?”

“That's how long I need.”

“For what?”

“To secure my position.” I leaned back against the sofa.

“Grandfather left his entire legacy to me, but that doesn't mean everyone will accept me as his successor. My relatives are already waiting for me to fail. I need time to establish control before anyone can challenge my position.”

Sam nodded slowly. “One year.”

“Then we divorce.”

Something flickered across his face, but it disappeared too quickly for me to read. “All right.”

“Second rule.” I looked directly at him. “This is business.”

He nodded. “And friendship.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“No romantic expectations.”

“Agreed.”

“No jealousy.”

“Agreed.”

“No pretending this is something it isn't when we're alone.”

His fingers tightened slightly around his glass. “Agreed.”

I took a breath. “And don't worry about me.”

His eyebrows drew together. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Caleste…”

“I know what I feel.” I kept my eyes on him. “And I know what you feel.”

He remained silent.

“I'm not going to spend this marriage waiting for you to change your mind.”

His expression tightened. “I don't want you to feel like you have to—”

“I won't.” I interrupted him gently. “I've already been rejected.”

His eyes softened.

I looked down at my hands. “I don't need to be rejected twice.”

His shoulders dropped slightly. He looked at the floor for a moment before raising his eyes again. “You don't have to worry about me either.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I don't want this to hurt you more.”

My throat tightened. I looked away immediately and bit the inside of my cheek.

“That's why we need rules.” I reached for a cushion and placed it between us, almost like a barrier.

“We act normally. We work normally. We don't change the way we treat each other because we're married.”

Sam nodded.

“But we play the part when necessary.”

“Okay.”

“And when the year is over…” I paused. The words felt heavier than they should have.

“We walk away cleanly.”

Sam's gaze stayed on me.

“Our friendship stays intact.” I looked at him.

He didn't answer immediately.

“You really think we can do that?” His voice was quiet.

“I have to.” I held out my hand. “One year.”

His eyes dropped to my hand. Then he reached across the space between us. “One year.”

His palm closed around mine. For one second, my fingers almost curled around his. Then I remembered the rules.

I pulled my hand away and straightened my back. “Deal?”

He smiled faintly. “Deal.”

---

The next morning, I stood beside Sam in front of the marriage registrar. It felt strangely ordinary. Just two signatures on a document.

The registrar looked between us. “Are you both certain?”

I glanced at Sam. He looked back at me.

“Yes,” he said.

I nodded. “Yes.”

The papers were placed in front of us. I picked up the pen. My hand didn't shake. I signed my name with certainty, like I was signing a business contract.

Caleste Ashworth.

Sam signed beneath mine.

Samuel Hart.

The registrar stamped the document. “Congratulations. You are officially married.”

Married. The word seemed too large for the small room.

Sam looked at me. “Mrs. Hart.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Don't.”

He smiled. “Right. Sorry.”

“May I?” He held out his hand, wearing that idiotic, warm smile he always seemed to have.

I rolled my eyes and took it. We stepped outside as husband and wife. The sunlight was brighter than I expected. My heart beat faster than usual, and something in my stomach felt strangely unsettled. I forced my expression back into place. My mask.

I looked down at the marriage certificate in my hand. Yesterday, I had been engaged to Adrian Beaumont. Today, I was married to Samuel Hart.

It should have felt terrifying. Instead, I felt strangely calm. Then I took out my phone.

Sam glanced at me. “What are you doing?”

“Sending my mother a message.”

His eyebrows rose. “Now?”

“Yes.”

I opened the camera. The certificate filled the screen. I took a picture. Then I opened Mother's chat. My fingers moved across the keyboard.

Mother: 'You don't have to worry about Adrian anymore.'

I attached the photograph. Then I added:

'I'm already married to the man I love. I can't marry Adrian.'

I pressed send. 

Sam looked at me. “Are you sure?”

I locked my phone. “Absolutely.”

For the first time since my grandfather's funeral, I smiled without forcing it. Whatever happened next, at least one thing was mine. My choice.

---

That afternoon, I was sitting on my sofa with Momo curled beside me when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen. An unfamiliar number.

I almost ignored it. Then another message appeared.

Unknown Number: 'I suppose I should be the first person to congratulate you.'

My eyebrows pulled together. Another message appeared.

Unknown Number: 'But there's something you should know about your new husband.'

My thumb stopped above the screen. I stared at the message.

Something you should know about your new husband.

My stomach tightened. What could anyone possibly know about Sam that I didn't?