“I’m not asking you to forget everything, Tash. I’m asking you to give me one more chance.”Natasha stared at me like I had just told her the most ridiculous joke in the world.“You’ve had chances, Victor.”“I know.”“No, you don’t.” She shook her head, her wedding ring glinting beneath the light. “You know how to ask for chances. That’s different.”I swallowed.“I’m working on myself.”“You’ve been ‘working on yourself’ for months.”“I’ll do better.”She laughed bitterly. “I don’t want promises anymore.”I stepped closer. “Then tell me what you want.”“I want a husband who can provide. I want stability. I want to stop worrying about bills while you tell me you’re figuring things out.”Her words hit harder than I wanted them to.“I’ve never stopped trying.”“And maybe that’s the problem, Victor. You keep trying. I need you to actually succeed.”Then she picked up her bag.And just like that, the woman I had once promised forever to was walking away from me.Six weeks earlier, I still

I spent the next two days doing something I had become painfully good at.Overthinking.Chiara’s proposal sat in the back of my mind from the moment I woke up until the moment I fell asleep.Marry her.One year.A business funded.A clean arrangement.Simple.Except nothing about marriage was simple.I’d just spent six weeks watching my own marriage disintegrate.How was I supposed to walk into another one?Even if it was only a contract.Even if there were no expectations of love.Even if Chiara had made it perfectly clear that she didn’t need a husband.She needed a shield.And I needed a second chance.It should have been an easy decision.It wasn’t.Because there was still Tash.I hated admitting it.But there was.Some part of me still believed that if I could just have one proper conversation with her, maybe we’d find our way back to each other.Maybe she’d calm down.Maybe she’d remember everything we’d built.Maybe she’d realize that losing my business hadn’t changed who I was

The first thing Chiara did after I agreed to move into her room was point toward the hallway.“Come on.”“Where are we going?”“You need to know where everything is.”“I thought you were giving me a tour.”“I am.”She walked ahead of me.I followed.The house was even larger than I’d realized the night before. Everything had its place. The furniture was modern, the walls decorated with carefully selected pieces of art, and there was barely a surface without something deliberately arranged on it.“You really like things organized.”“I like knowing where things are.”“Same thing.”“No. You’d understand if you saw your own room.”“I don’t have a room here.”She looked over her shoulder.“You do now.”We reached a set of double doors.Chiara opened them.I stopped.“This is your wardrobe?”She gave me a look.“Yes.”The room was enormous.It wasn’t a wardrobe.It was a clothing store.Shelves lined both walls, displaying shoes, bags, watches, folded clothes, accessories and enough outfits

The night we got back was more intense. The drive home was so silent that even a pin dropping inside such a cushioned car could probably have been heard. We reached the house, and I finally spoke. “Well, that was intense,” I said, looking at her. She only replied with a quiet, “Yeah.” “How did I do?” “Not bad,” she responded. “Not bad, huh?” I smiled. “Then I have to give a second one to up my ratings.” I expected her to move backward a little. She didn’t. So I went in and kissed her. She kissed me back. And that was it, whatever distance we’d been carefully maintaining disappeared. We stopped thinking about the arrangement, the agreement, the one-year deadline, and everything that was supposed to make this simple.For that moment, there was only us.We could have stopped but neither of us did.Before I could fully process what was happening, we had found ourselves in our room, caught somewhere between restraint and desire.I knew we were crossing a line.I a