Contractual Obligations

The next morning, Sebastian was gone again.

I was left with the rental car and a text from Heather saying she’d be in town in a few days with mine. Even though I hated her and my husband’s closeness, I was immensely grateful to keep the car I loved.

Sebastian had left me a check on the counter, telling me to get what I wanted for the house. I cringed at it but cashed it anyway. I didn’t need to start emptying my savings because of pride.

Writing was not as lucrative of a career as some thought. I was only now making enough to comfortably live off of in a decently sized city, but not enough to buy a place outright.

And sometimes, I wondered when people would lose interest and stop buying my books.

I spent the morning getting various pieces of furniture. Some I shoved into the rental car and tried to put together at the house. Others I had delivered.

By the late afternoon, I had most of the furnishings for the living room and my room on the way. I figured by that time I had gotten enough accomplished in the day to go to a coffee shop and write. The shop near my house had a beautiful ambiance so I decided to go back there.

That idea flew out the window the very moment I sat down at a table when I saw my mother was calling.

I gritted my teeth. I never had pleasant conversations with her.

But she was also not the kind of woman who would leave you alone if you sent her to voicemail.

“Hi, mom,” I said, sighing. I rubbed a hand over my tired face. Was I ever going to get this book done? Or was the impending TV show going to finish the series like Game of Thrones and leave it with a terrible ending?

“Hi, sweetie. Are you missing your mother yet? We missed our brunch this week.”

“Uh, sure,” I lied.

I hated brunch with my mother. While she ordered mimosas and French toast, I was always stuck with egg whites and turkey sausage.

“But it’s a great opportunity for you and that handsome husband of yours.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“You know why?” she pressed.

“Um, money?”

She sighed, sounding disappointed. “Lily, your contract is ending.”

“I’m aware.”

“You really aren’t going to do any better than a rich man with a full head of hair. I mean, just look at your father.”

My dad had been balding since he was twenty and my mother never seemed to be able to let it go.

This whole conversation was going to be taxing. The last things I wanted to think about were my dad’s bald head and the end of this contract.

I knew my mom wanted me to stay married to Sebastian, but I needed to get out of this. I needed my freedom.

I wasn’t sure how to tell her that, though.

Maybe I should have started here. I could tell my mother we didn’t really love each other or ever spend time together. I could say how much I hated the gaudy gold and diamond ring on my finger. I could say I wanted to be my own person and live my own life.

But I didn’t.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said instead.

“I’m just worried. I’ve heard rumors of him and his little assistant, Heather. How do you know he won’t run off with her the first chance he gets?”

“I . . . I don’t,” I told her. “But he’s keeping up the pretense of our marriage.”

“Ugh, did you say ‘keeping up the pretense’? Tone that down, Lily. No man likes it when you talk like that. Do as we practice. Light and airy.”

I winced. It was an argument I’d heard time and time again.

“Besides,” my mother continued, “you need to lock him in after this contract is over. Any ideas on that?”

“No,” I said, “and I don’t—”

“Come on, Lily. Must I draw every conclusion for you? A baby, darling. Have a baby.”

“What?” My voice came out flat. I hated that I was in public, but I was also glad I wasn’t in the house for this conversation. It’d be my luck that Sebastian would come back for something he forgot and overhear this.

“Now, all I’m saying is seduce him a little bit. Use your tits while you have them to lure him in. Forget protection and then boom—you’ve got him.”

I felt sick. “That’s manipulative, mom.”

“Oh come on. It’s more common than you think. It’s how I got your father. When I met him, I knew he was going to be something someday, and just look at us now.”

“You’re telling me I’m a product of entrapment?”

I always knew it was a possibility, but hearing it was different than thinking it.

“Who uses words like entrapment, Lily?” She sighed. “If you want to do this, you have to appear dumber than him. It shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“You have no other options, sweetie. If you let this contract expire, the likelihood that you’ll expire is high. Then you’ll have nothing.”

I glanced at my laptop. I wouldn’t have nothing. I would always have writing.

But I didn’t dare tell her that.

“Oh, I must go. Ramon is here. He’s wearing the tight pants today.” My mom hung up, sufficiently distracted by her gardener she had a weird crush on. I stared at the phone, realizing my worst fears had come to fruition.

I was being pushed to trap Sebastian in this marriage with a child.

It wasn’t that I never wanted kids—I wanted them with the right person. I didn’t want to parent a child all on my own, and I didn’t want to have to hire help because my husband was married to his office.

My plan had always been to get out of this and find real love, but first I had to figure out how to do it.

My thoughts were swirling dangerously, and I was stuck between wanting to fake my own death or murder my family.

Instead of giving into the desires, I did what I always do.

I wrote.

I was the master of turning my pain into art. That was where everything had started anyway. I wrote when I was sad, and beautiful prose came out of it.

In my dark mood, I thought about ending my series on a sad note. Maybe I could kill my main character. Maybe I could kill everyone in the book.

I knew my fans. Some would love it. Some would hate it.

I saw everyone’s opinions. To the world, I was J.R. Solace, a mysterious writer who had produced a fantasy series out of nowhere. To the world, I was a ghost.

J.R. didn’t even have social media.

So the fandom built things in my absence. I saw whole Discords. I saw made-up board games, fan meetups, and cosplays of every character. I saw fans get annoyed that their favorite character was killed, I saw others applaud the dark and gritty context in which I wrote.

But me? It was an escape. It was something to get me through these five years without losing my mind.

I’d killed off my main character’s mother a long time ago, but in my dark mood, I brought her spirit back, only to kill her off again.

When I was done, hours later, I felt a little better.

It was dark when the coffee shop closed. I left while they were cleaning up, apologizing profusely for how late I had stayed. I drove back to the house feeling accomplished. I didn’t expect Sebastian to be back yet.

He usually worked well into the night. After a few weeks of marriage, I gave up on waiting for him. So when I saw his car, I was shocked. I knew he didn’t care what I was doing, but I still wasn’t used to him being home before ten.

My mother’s words popped back into my head as I saw his silhouette in the window. It made my stomach roll.

My plan was to go inside and ignore him. Sometimes Sebastian worked from home, so I doubted he would give me the time of day when he saw me.

The door creaked when I opened it, and Sebastian immediately looked up. I saw him sitting at a new dining room table that I hadn’t bought. He wasn’t even working, only eating.

His eyes narrowed at me the moment I walked in.

“Where were you?”

“Looking for furniture,” I lied.

“This late?” Sebastian prodded. I felt bad for lying to him, but it wasn’t like I could tell him what I was really doing.

“My mom also called, so I was busy talking with her.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe me.

“Do you need anything?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “I guess not.”

“Good. See you tomorrow then.”

My legs carried me to my room faster than they should have. I shut and locked the door, feeling a confusing mix of irritation and anger rushing through me.

I was mad at Sebastian being mad, and terrified he would tell Martin whatever I had done wrong.

Was he angry I left the house? Should I always be here for him?

There was no way I could write this novel if I knew Sebastian could walk in at any time. I could maybe squeeze in a few hours in the middle of the day when he was least likely to come home, but I also grew bored of writing in isolation and longed to see people moving around me.

Terror clawed its way into my throat. Was I about to lose even more of what freedom I had left?

I decided to make sure I was home before Sebastian. For two days, it worked. I stayed home all day, both writing and receiving furniture, while trying not to go stir-crazy.

The first night, he came home at eight. The next, six.

His schedule was all over the place, so I had no assumed time for him to be here.

Being in a new location, with an office that required setting up and employees to be hired, all bets were off if he’d be pulling his normal late nights. I couldn’t be sure, given the previous two.

On the fourth day of him being back at work, I tidied the house and tried to write in the living room, but knew I wasn’t going to get anything done. I wound up having to go to the coffee shop, where the barista now knew my usual order.

I worked for a few hours before I looked up, eyes burning from staring at a screen. I blinked, clearing fallen mascara from my vision.

That was when I saw someone I knew in the coffee shop.

It was my neighbor, the girl who smiled at me and offered to help. She was at the counter, talking animatedly with the barista.

She must have been so friendly to all people. Maybe talking to strangers came easy for her. Maybe she didn’t struggle with what to say or who to be.

I bet she was fun to be around.

She turned, eyes sliding over to where I sat. She brightened immediately, smiling as if I were an old friend and not a new neighbor. She walked over, and my body tightened. She was definitely going to talk to me, but I didn’t know what side of me I should show.

“Hi,” she said, her eyes bright as they met mine. “It’s so good to see you.”

For a moment, I could only gape at her. “Um, you too?”

“Oh, did I bother you?” she asked. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to take you away from what you’re working on.”

I opened my mouth. I should ask for her name. Maybe I could get to know her. Visions of a new friend danced in my head.

They danced for so long that the girl deflated.

“I’ll catch you some other time. Again, I’m sorry for bugging you.” She walked away before I could stop her, leaving the shop with a stiff, fast pace.

I groaned. Of course I would meet a girl I could be friends with and daydream for so long that she ran away.

This was why I didn’t need to be myself. I bet she’d like the shallow, perfect side of me. That Lily would have asked for her fucking name.

Slowly, I forced myself to look back at my laptop. If I let myself dwell on my own awkwardness, I’d never get this manuscript done.

I kept an eye on the time as I got some stuff done, and at four I was making my way home.

I had decided to walk just in case Sebastian was mad that I had been using the rental car. His ire was worrisome, so I figured it would be best if I didn’t use anything he paid for. It usually worked for my parents. Unfortunately for me, however, walking meant it took me longer to get home. When I walked up, I saw Sebastian’s car, and my own, in the driveway.

Shit. He was home and my car was here, which meant Heather had also returned. I crept in, wondering if they would be in his room, but instead, they were in the dining room, talking normally.

“Sorry, Heather,” Sebastian said. “I thought she’d be here.”

“It’s fine. I hate that you had to leave work, though,” Heather replied, and I realized that I had messed up even worse this time.

Heather came by to drop off my car, and I hadn’t been here—yet again. I had totally forgotten when she was set to arrive.

“Hi,” I said meekly, turning the corner. I was once again sweaty, making my face too shiny and my makeup dangerously close to melting off.

And Sebastian was mad again.

“Oh, hi!” Heather said. “You look . . .” She trailed off. “I brought your car.”

“Um, I’m sorry. I forgot,” I said. “I was . . . out.”

“We know,” Sebastian said, his arms crossed. “I had to leave work to let Heather in while you were . . . doing whatever you were doing.”

Heather looked from his face to mine, trying to deduce what was going on between us. I hated her calculating gaze.

“Get a hotel, Heather. I’ll pay for it as usual,” he finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

In an instant, my panic was replaced with rage. Did he seriously get a hotel for Heather right in front of me? Was he going straight there, all because I had forgotten his precious assistant was coming with my car that I didn’t even know I would be keeping?

“Sounds good,” Heather said, smiling at him. “I’ll just get out of here then. Am I still dropping the rental car off?”

“Yes, please.”

Ugh. He could say please to her and not me? I felt my anger rise.

“Okay, then,” Heather said. “You two have a good night.”

I think everyone in the room knew that it wasn’t going to be a good night. Well, at least it wasn’t for me. The jury was still out on my husband and his assistant.

I thought about him treating her in bed like he did me, with soft words and gentle questions on what I liked. I wanted to throw up the very second I pictured it.

I gave Heather a half wave as she darted out the door. Once it was shut, it was just Sebastian and me, and I waited for him to lay into me.

But there was only silence.

Eventually, I said, “Go back to work. If there’s anything else being dropped off, I’ll be here.”

“Where were you?” Sebastian asked. It blew out of him so quickly I had to wonder if he had been holding back the words. “This is the third time that you’ve been missing when either I get home, or when Heather is here to drop off your car.”

“I was busy! I have a life, you know.”

“Oh, in a new city that you’ve never visited? Have you made ‘friends’ that fast?”

He put air quotes around friends, a reference to something I didn’t understand.

“No, I don’t have any friends here,” I hissed. “I know no one. But if I don’t know what you get up to when you’re off work, then you don’t get to know what I do.”

Sebastian glared, and I could physically see him clenching his teeth. Some of my anger was replaced with fear, just like it always was when someone was angry with me. I didn’t want to apologize, but I felt like I had to.

I felt at war, trying to decide whether to back down and lose this argument like all the others, or to hold tightly and be strong for once in my life.

“Just be sure our parents don’t find out,” Sebastian said, and then he turned to head into the kitchen.

At that moment, I should have asked what he meant. But I was too busy trying to figure it out for myself that I lost my chance.

By the time he returned, a drink in hand, I was halfway through working out whatever the hell he meant, and when he disappeared into his room, I grew even more confused.

Was he not going to the hotel with Heather?

I knew very little about the man I had been married to for four years, and I didn’t know how to begin to find out about him. Our clock was ticking, and eventually, this thing would be over, and I’d never see him again.

But now I was curious if somehow I’d gotten him wrong.