Contractual Obligations

A few weeks later, I was boarding a flight to LA for the last time as Sebastian’s contracted wife. I wanted to throw up, but I kept sipping on my ginger ale, hoping to keep my breakfast down. I could tell by the way Sebastian gripped his seat that he felt the same.

Neither of us wanted to do this, but we had to. We needed to set this boundary to ensure a better future. Then, we’d go back to Nashville, and our home, if we had it.

With my father having footed the bill for the house, I was certain he would take it back when Sebastian and I refused to sign any new contracts, leaving us homeless until we could figure out something else.

My book was with the publishers now, and I’d gotten enough money saved from my royalties that I could afford a down payment on a house.

But probably not that one.

I loved our house, but not enough to stay in this situation. I hoped it would work out, but I wasn’t sure how it was a possibility.

When we landed, neither of us particularly wanted to move, but we went to our hotel like we were going to our executions. We waited until the last moment to fly in, and our party was this weekend, which meant we had an hour to get ready for the meeting.

I wore a basic outfit and light makeup. Sebastian wore his dress shirt and jeans. We drove a rental car to the building, both of us looking nervous. It was so different than a year ago, where we had meet here in the elevator, both of us with unfair assumptions about each other.

The meeting room looked the same, though. There was the unfeeling white walls, open windows showing off the city that hated it. I felt smothered the moment I entered.

Martin waited, leaning against the end of the table.

“Glad you two made it,” he said.

Neither Sebastian nor I said anything. I had to grip my arms to keep from showing my shaking hands. We were going to have to do this.

“I won’t beat around the bush,” Martin said. “We have a big bash planned tonight. Here is the new contract, extending the current terms for five more years. Lily, you will have to be better about your social media, but what we’ve seen so far is promising.”

He slid it across the table. I couldn’t even look at it.

“We’re not signing it,” Sebastian said. “We want to be out of the contract.”

Martin didn’t even seem shocked. He glanced at his son, then his eyes were on me, as if he knew something I didn’t.

Fear shot through me.

“You will read the new one. I’m sure it’ll convince you,” he replied. “Dismissed.”

Martin turned and walked off without a word. Both Sebastian and I stared.

“We’re not reading it,” Sebastian muttered. “This is a normal business practice he uses. He leaves to try to intimidate people. If we stick to what we said, he’ll lose interest.”

I would have believed him if Martin hadn’t looked at me like that before he spoke. There was something he knew—something to do with me.

I looked down, reaching for the contract. Sebastian grabbed me. “What are you doing?” he asked. “We shouldn’t even look at it.”

“I feel like there’s something in this we should know.”

“There’s nothing in there we need to see. Besides, it’s all going to be legal jargon that makes us afraid of saying no. Don’t read it.”

I knew he was probably right, and I knew he wanted me to stay as far away from this as I could, but I was worried. What if there was something in there I needed to know?

I grabbed the contract but didn’t open it. I knew I wouldn’t be scared off, but I also knew Sebastian was worried. I shoved it into my purse and said, “Okay, I won’t read it. We’ll just hand it to them tonight when we fully announce we’re done.”

Sebastian glared at my purse but didn’t say anything. I didn’t have it in me to fight with him, not now.

I spent my afternoon getting plucked and prodded so I looked perfect for the event. I hated every second of it and was glad this was my last time doing it. My mother had tried to force me to dye my hair, and I held strong on that one, saying Sebastian liked the darker color growing in.

Once this was all over, I was dying it brown again. No more of the platinum blonde I hated.

When we walked into the venue, it reminded me of the wedding. It was ridiculously over decorated, and I wondered just how much money had been wasted on this thing. We were passed around like a newborn baby, forced to talk to everyone and be congratulated on a fake marriage.

Eventually, we got to my parents and my mom looked at us like she was proud, the fake gleam in her eye seeming almost predatory. They both hugged me, and when I wrapped my arms tensely around my dad, he whispered, “Read the contract.”

Sebastian heard it and he shook his head at me after they walked away. My purse was stored in the coat closet, and I bit my lip.

“You know they’re saying that to manipulate you.”

“But there could be a clause in there I don’t know about. If something involves me, I need to know about it.”

Sebastian eyes narrowed. “So you can change your mind?”

“No,” I replied. “I’m not changing my mind. I just . . .”

“Just go look at it,” Sebastian said, his voice tense. “But I’m asking you not to go back on this.”

“I’m not,” I told him honestly. “But I need to know the consequences of what we’re about to do.”

That didn’t seem to help anything. Sebastian looked at me like he was seeing someone else, and then walked away. I let out a long sigh, and went to the coat closet to quietly open the document.

Sebastian was right about one thing: it was boring and full of legal jargon, but I was used to that from my book contracts. I was able to see through most of it, but something at the end caught my eye.

I was right. There was something pertaining to me.

They weren’t going to pay out my inheritance if I refused to participate in any future contracts. They said it was referenced in the original, which I had on my phone. I checked it over, seeing it wasn’t there, but they had attached a revised edition to what they gave me today, one that I knew I hadn’t originally signed.

It was a bait and switch.

I groaned. They didn’t think I would catch it, but I had. And to fight it, I would have to hire the best lawyers and make a public enemy of myself for even trying to go against it. Sebastian would lose his job, and I would lose a lot of the money I had gotten from my TV show deal.

In this, they had won.

Or at least they thought they had.

I took a deep breath, trying to rid myself of the urge to scream and cry at the unfairness of the situation, but my fists stayed clenched. I tightened my jaw to keep words from spilling out.

I did all of this so I could live comfortably for a while and focus on writing. I did this so I could have the money I had been promised for years.

And now that was gone.

These days, it wasn’t even about the money. I understood enough about life to know I could make it. I had money saved, enough to buy a tiny house if I needed to. This wasn’t the end of the world for the current me, but if this had been in the beginning of all of this? Before I had even found my place in the world? I didn’t know what I would do.

The coat closet attendant walking in with coats made me stuff the contract into my purse and walk into the hallway. I grit my teeth to keep from hurling obscenities into the air. People would definitely take note if I lost it.

I had gone the full five years believing my family wouldn’t cheat me out of what they promised. In hindsight, I should have known better.

“Judging by your expression, you saw the contract.” The all-too-familiar voice sent a chill up my spine. I turned and saw my mother.

“Was this your idea?” I asked angrily.

“No, all Martin,” she replied, shrugging. “But I know you. You’ll do what you need to. It looks like you already have.”

“What do you mean?”

“That revision happened a year ago. I slid it in the back of your new moving contract. I know you read it.”

I hadn’t, actually. At that point, I didn’t care to.

“I know you knew Sebastian was done with you at that point,” she said, “and the direction you went? Amazing. I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“What are you talking about?”

She smirked in my direction. “When was the last time you used a condom?”

Not this again.

“I have an IUD, mom.”

“Of course you do,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Even though they don’t give those out to women who’ve never had a child.”

I shook my head incredulously. That was an old myth that had never been true.

“You’ve kept up the weight gain, and I bet you’ve already missed your period. I guess I should say congratulations.”

“Don’t,” I hissed.

“You can drop the act, honey. He’s not around.”

“Mom, stop.”

“Lily,” she said, “for once I am proud of you. Don’t deny what I know you did.”

My jaw clenched. I hated that she was proud of me. I hated that she thought I was being so manipulative.

“I’d put you at twelve or so weeks,” she said, eying my stomach. “Can’t wait to meet my grandbaby. See you at the speech.”

She walked away, head held high as if she hadn’t just broken her daughter’s heart. She’d taken everything I had done and twisted it into something it never was. I stared, trying not to cry, but my eyes grew wet.

How could she?

“Are you kidding me?” a deep voice said from behind me.

I turned. Sebastian was in the corner. His cheeks were red and his brows were pulled low onto his forehead. His fists were clenched and his jaw tight. I’d seen each of these signs of anger individually, but never all at once.

And he was looking at me.

My heart sank.

“How long have you been there?” I asked, my entire body trembling.

“Long enough.”

“Sebastian,” I said, “it wasn’t what it sounded like.”

“Really? Because it sounded like you lied about your birth control to trap me, and I fell for it like a fool.”

“I didn’t do that.”

“No,” he said. “You acted so nervous when I brought up certain things. The Fair Originals? The contract? Why did you need to read it? Why did you even take it from my father’s office?”

“Because there’s something in it about me. They’re keeping the inheritance if I don’t sign another!”

“And you got that information a year ago, the very day you changed how you acted around me. I’m not a betting man, but I’d bet a lot of money that had something to do with it.”

“That’s not what happened,” I insisted.

“I don’t think I believe you.”

“Sebastian, this is crazy!”

“Yes, it is. All of it is. This whole marriage from day one has been insane, but you knew I was done when we moved to Nashville. You knew you weren’t getting your end of the deal. Why not make me fall in love with you to keep you around? You never proved you had an IUD, Lily.”

I reached for my purse, but I left it in the coat closet after I read the contract. I had the card that I’d gotten at the doctor when I got my IUD. I’d stuffed it in my wallet forever ago. That would prove it.

But if I stepped away, I was worried he’d leave.

“I’m . . . I’m not pregnant,” I tried to say.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to hear any more about this. If you are really pregnant then I will stay for the sake of the child, but if you aren’t, you are never hearing from me again.”

Sebastian went to walk away, but I grabbed his arm. “Hang on. Let me explain.”

He paused, and I could cry from relief. Thank God. If he was willing to listen, then maybe I could talk my way out of this.

“I—” I began but was interrupted.

“Time for your speech!” Heather came around the corner, looking at us expectantly.

I dug my fingertips into the palms of my hands as I clenched my fists. Of all people to interrupt, why did it have to be her?

“Let’s get this over with,” Sebastian muttered.

“Can we have five minutes?” I asked Heather.

“Sorry,” she said, shrugging. She looked almost pleased with herself. “Martin and Allen are waiting. It’s time.”

Slowly, Sebastian pulled out of my grip, and I wondered if it would be the last time.

Heather smirked at me. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Fuck you,” I grumbled, following Sebastian.

The moment I saw him ascending the steps to the stage, words tried clawing their way out of my throat. I wanted to say that I wasn’t what my mother said. I wanted to grab my purse and show him the card for my IUD. I wanted to prove who I was.

But I ran out of time.

I could have forced him to stop. I could have delayed the speech and made my point, but he was already on stage, and the tense line of his shoulders made me wonder if I could even talk my way out of this, or if my mother had managed to take one last person from me.

Instead of yelling my innocence, I did the cowardly thing and followed him to the stage.

People cheered, and Martin started on his bullshit of a speech, relaying the farce of our relationship. In the back of mind, I knew I was supposed to be smiling. I was supposed to be the perfect daughter, the perfect wife.

But I couldn’t. Not this time.

All I wanted was out.

I couldn’t wait to get back to Nashville. Even if I didn’t have our house anymore, I would stay with Amy.

I could watch as our home was sold, and hope that a new family—one without the lies of mine—could take it over.

The thought broke my heart, but I needed out of here. I wondered how fast I could run once this speech was over.

“Now,” Martin said, turning to me, “I hear we have a very special announcement to make.” Horror ran through my veins. “I’ve just been informed that our very own Lily is pregnant! I look forward to seeing what this bundle of joy does for your future together.”

Sebastian winced, and I looked up at Martin, appalled. People clapped. Cameras flashed. I saw my mother whooping in the crowd.

Something in me snapped.

“And with that—” he started, but I found the energy to put on a demure smile and grab Martin’s arm.

“Actually, Martin,” I said sweetly, “I’d like to say a few words.”

“You’re not supposed to speak,” he said lowly as he covered the microphone with the palm of his hand.

“But I want to announce the gender!” I said it loud enough for people to hear, and they all hollered for him to let me speak.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sebastian looking at me, betrayal in his gaze.

But I kept my attention on Martin, who watched me keenly.

“What are you planning?”

“I can finally drop the act now that I’ve got Sebastian locked down,” I muttered. “I’m on your side.”

Martin looked shocked but pleased. He finally released the microphone. I took it, fury still coursing through my body. I faced the crowd before I could chicken out.

In the back of the room, I saw Jessie, who looked horrified.

I took a deep breath. No more letting my family control me. No more letting her down.

No more letting myself down.

“Wow,” I said, scanning the crowd, “there are so many of you. God, is that TMZ out there?”

“We love your Instagram!” the reporter called.

“I cannot believe I’m so famous,” I said, and I walked to the front of the stage. “I am so grateful to each and every one of you for coming tonight, and I am so happy to share some . . . incredibly huge news.”

A rustle of excitement went through the crowd.

Perfect.

Rohanda did something like this once. It was one of the greatest scenes I’d ever written, and now, it was my turn to live it.

“I’d love to tell you the gender of my baby.”

“Yes, girl!” the TMZ reporter called. “Do it! We’re recording!”

“This is on video?” I asked, feigning honor. “Thank you. I want to remember this forever.”

“Yes!” the reporter called.

“Anyway, as I was saying, the baby . . .” I paused for dramatic effect, “doesn’t exist.”

Silence.

“You see, none of this is actually real. More than five years ago, I was proposed to. I was told I was marrying the son of the business owner trying to buy us out, thus making it look like Miller Industries wasn’t creating a monopoly. I wish I could tell you my Instagram was real, but that was contracted too. My hair? My words? My looks? All written into a contract, and you know what? It’s going on my social media page right after this.”

Jessie’s jaw dropped, but for once, she looked proud. God, this felt good. I should have done this a long time ago.

“The contract ends today,” I said into the microphone. “I’ve spent the last five years of my life writing the greatest autobiography”—a lie—”about the toxic dynamic of this family, of the horrible things Martin expects of his employees, and the suffering all of us caught in Martin and Allen’s web have endured. I’ll gladly sell it to the highest bidder.”

Martin ripped the microphone out of my hand, pushing me away from the stage. I stumbled on my heels, but someone caught me by the arm.

“You stupid whore!” he yelled at me, his face turning beet red.

I knew what he was capable of. I knew he was coming after me.

That was when the reality of what I’d just done set in.

I needed to leave, and fast.

I didn’t even thank whoever caught me. I darted from the stage and through the back, only stopping to rip off my heels as I ran outside.

When the fresh air hit me, the weight of what I’d done pressed down on me.

Oh God, everyone knew. This was going to blow up. If it didn’t go viral, I’d be shocked.

I’d left my purse and everything inside the venue, but I knew I couldn’t go back in there. If I did, I’d be cornered, or kicked out.

“Lily!” I heard a voice call, and I turned to see Jessie running out of the venue. In her hands, she had my purse. “Holy shit. I’m so sorry for ever doubting you. I can’t believe you just did that!”

“I—it wasn’t planned,” I said, “but when they tried to force me to do this all again with a pregnancy of all things, I couldn’t let them.”

“You did the right thing.”

“I’m gonna throw up,” I muttered, and Jessie pushed me to the bushes. She rubbed my back as I emptied the contents of my stomach.

“You’re a badass,” she said. “No one saw that coming. You were amazing up there.”

“He hates me,” I said, rubbing my mouth.

“Who? Martin? Fuck him. He’s always hated you.”

“Sebastian.”

“I thought you were getting along.”

“My mom got to him first.”

“I don’t know if he . . .” She trailed off, but then shook her head. “We can talk about this later. We need to get out of here.”

She slowly helped me up as the door to the venue was forced open. I jumped. When I turned, I expected to see either my mother or TMZ coming after me.

But it was Sebastian.

I wondered if Jessie would tell him off, or if he would tell me off for blabbing to everyone about everything. I didn’t know which would be worse.

But I didn’t get to find out because I threw up again. When I finally righted myself, something cold was being pressed into my hand.

I looked down and saw ginger ale, and Sebastian’s hand attached to it.

“We should go,” Jessie said. “The minute they figure out where you are, it’s going to be a shit show, and . . . you probably need your hand looked at.”

“My hand’s fine,” I muttered, but then I realized Jessie wasn’t looking at me.

She was looking at Sebastian, who had a red, puffy hand with split knuckles. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell happened, but I instead fought back a wave of nausea.

“Did you enjoy it?” Jessie asked.

“Immensely,” Sebastian replied.

“What?” I asked, finally getting control of my stomach. “What happened to your hand? What the fuck is going on? Why did you bring me a ginger ale?”

“I figured the stress would get to you after what you did,” Sebastian said, smiling softly at me. I only stared. Didn’t he hate me now?

“That’s very cute, Sebastian, but the police are definitely being called on you right now.”

He nearly growled. “I’m aware.”

“What the ever-loving fuck happened?” I repeated, looking between the two of them.

“Sebastian punched Martin right after you ran off,” Jessie informed me.

“What?” I yelled.

The door opened again, and Jessie grabbed me, pulling me away from the impending explosion of people. As we got into the rental car, I saw people swarm out, and photos were taken of the vehicle as we drove away.

Sebastian ended up in the back seat with me as Jessie sped away. I groaned and opened the ginger ale.

“That was so stupid,” I moaned after I took a sip.

“Hell no,” Jessie said. “That was badass. Do you know how many times I wanted to tell the public about what they were doing to you? If I knew it wouldn’t blow up your life, I would have done it in a heartbeat.”

I sighed and leaned my head against the headrest. Sebastian moved a stray hair off of my face.

“Why are you here?” I asked him. “You were mad.”

“I was wrong,” he said. “I saw you nervous at the party because of that contract and was thinking you’d back out, and then I heard your mother congratulate you and tell you to drop the act because you were pregnant and I . . . I thought it was real.”

“Seriously?” Jessie asked.

“I know,” he said to Jessie, but his eyes were on me. “I wasn’t in my right state of mind.”

“You’ve got to have a better excuse than that to believe Barbara Roberts of all people.”

“A thinly veiled threat from my father to ruin my career would be a good one,” he muttered.

The instinct to run gave way to the desire to attack. “I’ll kill him.”

“You know what?” Jessie said. “You should have punched him twice.”

“Once was enough for me,” he replied, his voice still low.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I ever entertained the idea. I’m sorry I treated you like everyone else has. I’m sorry you had to be the one to do what you did on that stage. Telling everyone was the right thing to do.”

And that was my breaking point. The raw, unfiltered pain of the night hit me full force, and I broke down. I was enraged at my mother, so hurt that Sebastian had believed her, and furious at Martin for trying to get us locked in again.

Sebastian held me as I cried, and I leaned into his warmth, unable to be alone. I heard him tell Jessie to go to our hotel, which had what little luggage we’d brought.

I cried until we pulled in. My ugly sobs had probably ruined my makeup and I couldn’t begin to care.

Five alerts went off on Jessie’s phone.

“Sorry,” she said, silencing it. “I have an alert on you on Google.”

“They’ve started reporting,” Sebastian said, his grip on me tightening.

“There’s no way either of you are the villain here,” Jessie said, turning to us.

“They’ll find a way,” I muttered. “I saw how long the reporters stayed there. I bet my mother spun some horrible story about how I was losing my mind or something.”

“Post the contract,” Sebastian said. “Just like you said.”

“What?”

“On your social media. Just post a screenshot of the contract. That’s enough evidence that you’re not lying. It’s on the company’s letterhead.”

“Sebastian, you do know that if I do this, I’m ruining your father’s company.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “Let it burn. I’m pretty sure I was fired when I punched him in the face.”

“It’s too bad I didn’t stay for the aftermath,” Jessie mused. “I was too busy running to get Lily’s purse.”

“It’ll be on the news,” he muttered.

I sighed. Remembering Sebastian had punched his father also reminded me we needed to get his hand looked at. Then I remembered I’d told people I had an autobiography that I could release at any time.

“Oh God,” I said. “I need to somehow write an entire autobiography.”

“You don’t have one?” Jessie asked.

“No.”

“But I thought that was what you were writing,” Sebastian said. “You never told me what it was, so I figured you told a white lie about writing dark fantasy so I wouldn’t stop you.”

“No,” I told them both. “I do write dark fantasy. I like swords, dragons, and murder. I don’t write shitty autobiographies on how my parents fucked me up. I put them into other worlds, not this one. Ugh, I have so much to do.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Sebastian said. “But you need to get out of those clothes and into something more comfortable.”

“And maybe shower,” Jessie added.

“Then you’ll go get your hand looked at?” I asked.

Sebastian sighed and nodded. I looked at him, completely unable to reconcile that he’d hit his father over shoving me, that he came after me, despite what he thought I’d done.

I put my hand on his wrist, below where things were red and swelling. “Thank you,” I said.

“It was no problem. The moment he touched you I knew I wouldn’t let him get away with it.”

“You didn’t have to stick up for me,” I said quietly.

“Yes, I did. You’re my wife.”

“I don’t have to be anymore.”

“I’m not letting you go now,” he said, smiling. “I was stupid to ever consider it. I know who you are, Lily. Every crack in your old persona was a wakeup call for me, illuminating the real you and not the person you had to be.”

My jaw dropped at the beauty of his words.

“Sorry if that was cheesy. I’m not a writer like you, but I’ve felt it for a while. I was going to say this to you at a more romantic time, but this is as good as any.”

“Wow,” Jessie interrupted. “Yeah, I see it now.”

“See what?” Sebastian asked. I was still processing his words.

“You two,” she said. “I didn’t know what I believed when you told me you two were getting along, but this? This is more lovey-dovey than I am with my boyfriend, and that’s saying something. I think Lily’s in a coma.”

“It’s not every day that I get knocked speechless by my husband,” I said, my cheeks heating.

“You’re blushing under the makeup, aren’t you?” Sebastian asked. “I’ve noticed you get a certain expression whenever you get embarrassed.”

“There’s too much lovey-dovey stuff happening in the back seat right now,” Jessie said. “You guys should go and get cleaned up. Then you can resume talking about how much you love each other.”

“She’s right,” Sebastian said. “You need a shower.”

“And you need a doctor. Let’s go in.”

Sebastian grabbed my hand and led me up to our room. As I showered and got clean, I waited for the regret to hit me about what I’d done.

It never did.

Photo: a screenshot of a contract detailing Sebastian and Lily’s marriage agreement. There is no caption.

SebandLily4ever: THIS HAS TO BE A JOKE! I’M CRYING, SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW!!!11

ConcernedReader: I FUCKING KNEW IT.

Fthepatriarchy: What the absolute fuck? A contract? She was TRAPPED? I hereby call for a complete and total BUYING BAN on all Miller Industries devices. This is disgusting and ABHORENT!

TwoLives: I always thought something was up. I’m so sorry. I can’t wait to hear all the dirty details.

SummerBabe: Actually, I hope you get to live your life. These comments are gross…