As we step out of the elevator, we enter a huge suite with two bedrooms, a living room, and a sitting area where Mason is seated, inviting me to sit beside him. I do so, feeling nervous, anxious, and exhausted all at once. 

"I have a copy of the contract signed by our parents. They don't know I have it. If you want, you can read it, but I've done it more times than you'd like to know, and there's no way to annul it," he says, taking a folder from his right side. 

The truth is, I don't have the mental capacity to read it right now. I trust Mason's word when he says there's no way to annul the contract. He's just as unhappy with the idea of getting married as I am. 

"I can't focus on reading it now. I'd prefer we clarify our agreement. Tomorrow, if my headache subsides a bit, I can read the document in detail," I say, handing the folder back to him. 

"I understand. Well, I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of knowing about this before you, but I took the liberty of drafting an agreement that I want you to read. We can add whatever you want before signing it. You can read it calmly in the room on the right, and tomorrow morning we'll finalize everything. It's been a very long night, and I don't want you to regret signing something in haste," he says calmly, and I see a hint of tenderness in his eyes. 

"You're really something." 

Shut up, conscience. It's just mental fatigue and stress from everything that happened tonight! 

"That sounds good, and thank you for everything," I sincerely say to him. 

After all, he's been the only one honest with me. 

 He doesn't have any ill intentions...for now! 

I think he's in the same situation as me. We're both in this because of our parents. We couldn't even voice our opinions, and that's why he understands my distress. 

I bid him farewell and watch as he remains seated, pouring himself a drink. I'd like to ask for one myself, but I'm not accustomed to alcohol, and I might do something reckless. It's better if I focus on reading the agreement and taking notes on my ideas. 

Being alone, the first thing I do is take off my dress and stay in my underwear. I let down my blonde hair and go to the bathroom to wash my face. Thankfully, I remove most of the makeup. I sit on the bed and sigh once again, taking the folder. It contains blank sheets of paper and a pencil to add my notes or rules. 

I read it, and I'm surprised to realize that he didn't just think about himself; he also considered me. 

The first point states that neither of us will disrespect each other in any way, and we won't prohibit anything regarding our individual tastes and friendships. There will be no questioning or explanations required for outings. 

Secondly, we will support each other throughout the three-year duration of the agreement, as teammates. In public, we'll pretend to be in love, but privately, we'll maintain only a friendship. 

Thirdly, loyalty and honesty are required. If either of us desires to be with someone else, it must be with the other person's consent, and it should only be a physical relationship without emotional attachments for these three years. 

Fourth, we'll decide together whether to attend social events or not. It depends on both of us. 

Fifth, after the three years, no one will speak about the agreement. We'll simply divorce and explain that it didn't work out, that we only see each other as friends. 

Sixth, we will never disclose this agreement or the other agreement to anyone else. It will remain strictly between the participants involved in this deal. 

Seventh, intimacy between Mason and Paige will only occur if both parties are in agreement and on the condition that no emotions are involved. 

Eighth, both will try to build a friendship where there is enough trust to communicate any issues or grievances regarding their shared living arrangement for the next three years. 

Ninth, if a friendship doesn't develop between them, they will strive to maintain a cordial relationship to keep a resentment-free environment at home. 

Tenth and final, if either of them develops any feelings for the other, they must communicate it in order to find a way to address it. This is to ensure that when the three years end, they won't suffer from the separation as agreed upon. 

I read it several times and think about what I can add. The truth is, everything he included seems reasonable, and I have no objections to his conditions. I think I could add something, but first, I need to read what the other agreement between our parents says. 

For now, I just want to close my eyes and forget everything. My head is throbbing with the pain what I am feeling. 

I settle on the bed wearing my underwear. 

The next day, I wake up wrapped in blankets, not even remembering how I got there. I recall throwing myself onto the bed and nothing more. I shift as I feel the light streaming in through the window, turning my body and letting out a scream when I realize that Mason is sitting in the chair across from the bed. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he says, raising his hands in surrender. 

"What are you doing here?" I ask, covering my chest with the bedsheet. 

"Well, I came to see if you were awake. I covered you with a blanket because you didn't do it last night. I noticed that you didn't jot down any conditions," he replies, pointing to the sheet of paper beside him. 

"I thought I should read the other agreement first, to see if they had stipulated anything that I wouldn't agree with," I nervously explain. 

"Here it is. I don't mean to be pushy, but I'd like to get this sorted out as soon as possible," he says with concern. 

"Okay, I understand. Would you mind lending me a pair of your sweatpants or a t-shirt to wear? I don't want to walk around in last night's dress," I say, blushing. 

"Sure, I'll go get some clothes," he answers, leaving the room. 

As he goes to get the clothes, I read the agreement between our parents, and I want to kill my own father. This agreement is garbage, it makes no sense. Two drunkards signing it in front of a damn notary, and I don't even know how they allowed them to do this in their intoxicated states. 

It states that when I turn 21, I will marry their friend's already-born son, and we will have to be married for a minimum of three years, or the party that refuses to fulfill the agreement will have to hand over their company and fortune to the other party. It's worth mentioning that at that time, they were just starting out in the business world. Perhaps they never thought they would become so wealthy and influential. 

That doesn't excuse the stupidity they committed, especially handing it over to a lawyer who was responsible for ensuring that the agreement is enforced. 

I give a small jump on the bed as I feel the door being opened and closed. When I look up, I see Mason in formal attire that fits him perfectly. 

I completely agree with that. 

What am I thinking? I shouldn't look at Mason through the eyes of a woman. He will be my husband and friend for three years, nothing more. 

"Sure, whatever you say." 

I need to stop listening to my damn conscience. It's not healthy, and it won't be as long as I'm married to Mason. 

"Take the smallest one I have," he says, smiling and handing me a change of clothes. 

"Thank you so much, I really appreciate it. And regarding the agreement, I'll sign it, I agree with everything. But I want to know, if I come up with something in the future, can I add it?" I ask, timidly, like a little girl. 

"Of course, you can add whatever you want. Besides, the idea is for us to be friends and not need to write everything down to understand each other," he responds. 

I take the sheet and sign it. When I finish, I sigh and tell myself, "There's no turning back now." I close my eyes for a moment, giving Mason a smile to show him that everything is fine. 

Afterward, he bids me farewell, explaining that he needs to sign some papers and that they will bring clothes in my size while I have breakfast. He takes care of it. I thank him and focus on eating. I'm not very fond of sweets, but I have a bit of fruit and drink milk, just like every morning at home. 

After breakfast, I dress in the clothes that Mason had sent for me. I must say, I was surprised to see everything new. I thought someone would come to my house to fetch clothes for me. 

I leave with doubts about going home. The truth is, I'm so upset with my father that I don't want to see him, at least for now. I'm focused on that when I get startled by my vibrating phone in my pocket. 

"You don't have to go home. You can stay for as long as you want." 

It's from an unknown number, but when I see the profile picture, I realize it's Mason. How did he get my phone number? 

"How do you have my number?" 

"I won't tell you, but I'm staying at the hotel to avoid seeing mine. I understand if you want to stay." 

I think about it, and he's right. I don't want to go home. I don't have anyone I trust enough to go to and explain what I'm going through. Mason is the only one who can understand this. 

"Thank you, the truth is, I don't want to go home." 

He doesn't respond, and I put my phone away, staring at the ceiling. I don't know what to do. My classes don't start for a few more days, so I have nothing to pass the time. 

I turn on the television, but I quickly get frustrated because nothing interests me. My mind starts to wander, reminiscing about my hobbies as if it had been ages since I was happy, living with my parents, unaware of what I would have to face. 

I remember that I enjoy running and doing yoga. Maybe that's what I need right now. I call reception and request a yoga mat to use on the floor. It arrives quickly, and I put on some relaxing music, letting go of everything else. Yoga is always good for me. 

I don't know how long I've been at it, but I feel much better. 

"You're really good at yoga," someone says, causing me to lose control and end up sitting on the floor. I give them a death glare, but Mason wisely raises his hands in surrender. 

I shake my head, and he clears his throat nervously. I don't understand why he's nervous. 

"Well, I have an important dinner tonight, and they asked me to bring my fiancée along because his wife gets bored at these business dinners. Do you think you can come with me?" he asks anxiously. 

"I don't mind. Just help me up, and I'll have to go home to get a dress. Or is it a casual event?" I ask as he extends his hand to help me up. 

"It's casual, but I can arrange for more clothes for you," he says as if it's an easy task. 

"I don't want to owe you. I'd rather go to my parents' house and get some clothes," I say nervously. 

"Alright, we can go right away so you have time to get ready without rushing," he says, taking my hand and leading me out of the suite. 

I think he's getting used to holding my hand. It's not that I mind, and

it's actually a good way for us to appear in love. What better way than to walk hand in hand everywhere we go, right?