And I have no idea if I'm making the bravest choice of my life or the biggest mistake.
Chapter nine
Seamus
I think if you don’t like someone, you should just say so. There’s a girl in my first hour who treats my friends badly. So I told her I will probably never like her. Apparently, that’s “disruptive behavior.” So … yeah. Now I have detention. —Anna (Age 16)
Iarrive at the ERS building at ten-thirty, earlier than necessary, because waiting at home felt impossible. The conference room on the third floor is exactly what I expected with its white walls, large windows, and lack of personality.
A judge reviews paperwork at the front. Tessa stands near the door, greeting people.
There are already people here. There is one couple standing near the windows. The man is tall, athletic build. The woman beside him is smaller, dressed in something silky and elegant, her posture careful, controlled.
They're like strangers waiting for a bus.
I take a seat in the back row, pulling out my phone more for something to do with my hands than because I need to check it. An email about work. I ignore it.
Instead, I think about the email I sent last night.
To Anna.
My old pen pal. The one person who knew me before the headlines and the boardrooms.
I wrote:Do you ever feel like life expects you to jump through flaming hoops? Tomorrow, I know I need to do this thing. It's necessary, (and don't worry, perfectly legal) but still feels… I don't know…wrong.
I haven't checked for a reply. I’m not sure I want one.
The door opens again. A woman enters—young, maybe late twenties, wearing skinny jeans and carrying a bag covered in rhinestones that catches the light like a disco ball.
She's looking around, slightly overwhelmed. She goes to stand by a man in an expensive suit who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.
I'm looking at the first couple again, and surprisingly, I recognize him. Camden Drake. A well known football player. Disciplined. Private. The last man I’d expect in a room like this.
The woman beside him is harder to place at first, but something about her feels familiar. Professional. Practiced. Like she's performed in front of crowds before. I realize they're maintaining exactly the kind of boundaries Rosanna and I agreed to.
She looks scared. Not of Camden specifically—just of the situation. Of the commitment. Of whatever circumstances brought her to a conference room wedding with a man she barely knows.
Camden notices. I watch him glance at her, something shifting in his expression. His hand moves slightly, like he's consideringreaching for hers, then stops. Respecting boundaries. Maintaining distance. Being exactly what the contract requires and nothing more.
I wonder what their story is. What brought them here. Whether they'll survive their marriage without damaging each other.
The woman with the rhinestone bag is now standing next to a grumpy-looking man in an expensive suit. I don’t recognize them.
The woman seems like the opposite of her soon-to-be husband. She's bouncing slightly on her heels, smiling despite obvious nerves, clutching her sparkly bag like a talisman. The man stands beside her, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable. Another person who's here because of circumstances rather than choice.
Tessa approaches me with a gentle smile. "Mr. O'Malley. Ms. Lopez should be arriving any moment. Can I get you anything while you wait? Water? Coffee?"
"I'm fine." My voice comes out clipped, more tense than I intended. "Thank you."
"We'll get started in just a few minutes."
She nods and moves away, giving me space. I check my phone again. Ten fifty-seven. Three minutes until the scheduled time. Three minutes until Rosanna arrives and we move forward with this impossible arrangement.
I stand, unable to sit still any longer, and move toward the windows. The city spreads out below, a different view than that from my office.
In a few minutes, I'll be married. Legally bound to a woman who actively dislikes what I represent.
The door opens.
