Page 18 of Yours, Forever

Another fancy car parked outside my home. I let Max open the door for them.

"Leon, Anika, welcome." He took their jackets and offered them something to drink.

I guided them to the sofa, and eventually we all sat with water in front of us on the coffee table. Max and I sat in the armchairs.

"Hi, Eva. I'm Anika, your lawyer. We talked on the phone a couple of times. I received your preliminary e-signed documents; I'll ask you to sign the actual documents now in person, and I need a private meeting with you before I leave. Like we discussed, my goal here is to protect your interests."

I nodded, discomfort crawling up my spine. I hated all this stuff. At least my hands didn't shake.

Max gave me a long look. "She's from a different firm and retained with an independent fund already under your name."

"Yes, she explained yesterday," I said.

"Okay, then should we proceed?" Leon gave Max and I a folder each. "The meeting today is to reaffirm the legality of the prenup and marriage. We don't want to risk anyone calling anything into question."

Even though Anika had already explained the terms to me over the phone, she and Leon went over everything again. They talked about the agreement to stay married for at least eighteen months, the fact we would live together, and every item on the list of things Max would invest in. Including how I would have to return the money if I divorced Max before he got his funds secured.

That was the only consequence to me changing my mind. Considering that five million added up to the kinds of money I never thought I'd see, the agreement settled heavy on my shoulders.

I glanced at Max. The shimmer of charisma that surrounded him at all times dulled.

"Finally," Leon said. "What should we do with this?"

He held a napkin between his index and middle fingers.

Max quirked an eyebrow in my direction, his eyes serious. He leaned forward and grabbed the napkin. Upon opening it, scribbles showed on it.

He smirked. "Our original prenup. You can see I was still sober enough to write clearly. And your signature isn't wonky."

I took it from him. It looked just as he described; his script was clear and slanted, and my signature looked just right.

Max looking at me with glittering lights reflecting in his eyes, and a smile that dazzled me. Me biting my lip with butterflies in my stomach, as I signed on the napkin.

An echo of the butterflies in my memory took flight in my stomach. "I think I remember this."

Good thing all metaphorical insects were invisible to my husband.

Max took the napkin from me and folded it back to its original shape. "Could this be evidence?"

Both lawyers agreed.

"Okay, then you should keep it." He gave it back to Leon.

When they finally left, he convinced me to let him make us a meal. I sat at the peninsula and watched him make us a simple cheese sandwich and a tomato salad.

"You seem stressed," I said.

"I am. I wish I didn't have to do any of this." He pushed a plate my way and stayed at his place at the other side of the counter.

"Eighteen months, then we'll quietly divorce. We can do it. We basically agreed to a year-and-a-half roommate contract. It doesn't have to be that weird. People start living with strangers all the time when they need to share expenses."

I took a bite of my sandwich.

"Right." He didn't look at me; he opened and closed cupboards, as if confirming things were where he thought they were. "I gather that, to you, the fact we're married means little."

I swallowed through a sudden knot in my throat. "Well… no. That's not right."

He leaned on the back counter and took a big bite of his own sandwich. He crossed one foot over the other, so casual; his suit, another ensemble that fit him to perfection, gave him an elegant look that contrasted against the simplicity of the meal. An informal dinner, in my small kitchen, with a guy wearing a silk waistcoat.