I open it.
The paper is thick. Heavy. Expensive. The kind of paper meant to last and so is what's on it.
Marriage Agreement
North, Julian Alexander
Bennett, Lucy Marie
Seeing my name alongside his does something strange to my stomach. Not flattery. Not excitement.
Disorientation.
Like I’ve slipped sideways into a life that wasn’t built for me.
I start reading carefully, line by line, because missing something here feels like it could cost me more than I can afford to lose.
It’s structured. Precise. Brutal in its clarity.
Duration. Exclusivity. Shared residence. Public appearances. Media clauses. Confidentiality.
Emily hums as she reads over my shoulder. “Wow. He really does plan everything, doesn’t he?”
I don’t answer. My eyes snag on the next section, focusing on words that stand out.
Children. Expected. Planned. Binding upon conception.
I stop breathing, I only realize that my hands are shaking when I notice the paper rustling.
Emily notices instantly. “Lu?”
I swallow, my throat suddenly too tight. “Just... give me a second.”
Children.
Not hypothetical. Not someday. Not if.
Planned.
Binding.
Expected.
I knew... he had mentioned it when he first approached me... but up close... in writing...
I...
The pressure starts in my chest, familiar and terrifying, like my body knows exactly how to spiral even when my mind is trying to stay rational. I set the folder down and press my palms flat against my thighs, grounding myself.
You are safe.
You are sitting down.
You can breathe.
Emily reads the section and goes very still.
“Oh,” she says flatly. “Absolutely not.”
