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She smiled. “Go on.”
“My parents are wealthy — very wealthy. And they’ve given me an ultimatum: get married by my next birthday or lose everything.”
“Seriously?”
“They even gave me a list of acceptable women. I don’t want to marry any of them… but I also don’t want to lose my life.”
Claire leaned back. “So… you want me to pretend to be your wife?”
“Exactly. One year. We marry, act the part, then divorce. I’ll pay you well. Everything will be written in a contract.”
She thought for a moment. “Will there be a contract?”
“Yes.”
“And I can tell my parents it’s a real marriage?”
“Of course.”
She studied me carefully. “You seem honest… or desperate.”
“A bit of both.”
She nodded. “Alright. Send me the details.”
That night, I received a message:
“Okay, Adam. I’m in.”
For illustrative purposes only
The wedding passed in a blur.
It took place at my parents’ country club — elegant but cold. The food was forgettable, the atmosphere stiff.
Claire wore a simple dress. Her parents sat quietly at the back, holding hands — proud but out of place.
Her mother looked familiar, though I couldn’t place her.
My own parents smiled for the cameras, but their expressions faded quickly.
Claire’s mother hugged me warmly. “Thank you for loving her,” she whispered — even though she knew the truth.
Her father shook my hand. “Take care of each other.”
After the reception, I drove Claire home.
The silence in the car was heavy.
Inside, I gestured toward the guest room. “You can stay there. We only need to act married in front of my parents.”
She nodded… but didn’t move.