Only His On Paper

l inside? Sharp, expensive cologne. Nothing like the greasy diner or hospital stench I'm used to. My hands f

just some stranger he's ferrying somewhere. Which, I guess... no, not really.

e is low and steady.

ace I scrape pennies for. And Lily, God, Lily's always in my head

ere bu

say that. "I know you're tired." Then sil

and laughter floats in the wind somewhere. I want to ask: Why

and has sharp edges, too perfect, t

says. "A fresh start.

f conditions? When do I ev

voice is flat like it's no b

I stare at the cracked sidewalk instead of at him

e," I say before I can st

he truth but doesn't

ses down, he

y does it feel like everything's about

ight air stings my skin, jolting me

ut serious. "I'm not asking forever.

r. But then I see Lily's pale, scared

e. But maybe... maybe

r, too polished, too cold. I follow him, each step ec

an says, clipped

papers and sharp pens. A leather chair that's swallowed too man

ave mine, sharp, assessing. "You've been through hell, Ava. But I don'

he catch? What does he

be my wife. On paper and in public. A partnership. But it'

ts, Lily's bills, rent, all of it. But

e a storm. Marriage.

Her eyes begged me to fix this, to keep fighting.

ard. "And i

this ride ends. You go back to struggling, f

e holds all the cards. But something in hi

y. "You don't have to decide no

k, eyes cold enough to freeze fire. The villain. The man I

tightens. "

"Ava," he says, voice dripping poison

at tighter.

een us. "She's un

simmering beneath the surface. This

hope's price might be

e city hums, indifferent. My phone buzzes,

t the skyline. Pretty lig

tomorrow holds. Bu

just a tr

every

just be