The Boyfriend Contract
By someone I can’t have.
I shake my head sharply, snapping out of my reverie. “Get a hold of yourself, Ryan,” I scold sternly as I stand, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “It’s never going to happen again. You, of all people, know that it’s an arrangement.”
A contract with an expiry date.
We both agreed that we were going to call things off the moment our parents stopped bothering us to get married or take over their companies.
It could be a month from now or a year, but the important thing was that it had a timeline.