Paper Promises
“Draft a contract template for a marriage agreement. One year. Mutual benefit. Confidentiality, non-disparagement, public appearances. Autonomy clauses to be discussed.”
My phone pulsed against my palm with the satisfaction of tasks moving forward. The rain eased. In the reflection, I looked like a man no one would bet against. I knew better. Men like Elias didn’t wager on the outcome. They wagered on the damage.
On the glass, lightning stitched one neat, bright seam between towers and vanished. The night swallowed the evidence. I could still feel it under my skin—like a signature, like a promise, like the moment a match thinks about being struck and decides it wants to be fire.
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