CHAPTER 3: CONTRACT

After a quiet pause, Mark brings up another aspect. "What else does it say in here?" He skims through the pages and inquires further. I join him in reading. "They talk about weekly dates, going out formally every couple of months, and even planning for a baby in five years?" I blurt out, my face showing both surprise and annoyance. "Do they seriously expect us to stick to such a rigid schedule for having kids? Shouldn't that be a decision we make together? I mean, I do want to have children someday, and I'm not ancient, but turning it into a requirement makes it seem like a chore. And I'm not a fan of chores."

John jumps in, saying, "Well, it seems quite reasonable. It's not too demanding," seemingly relieved that we're not arguing about more fundamental aspects, like the marriage itself.

I continue reading. "They're not asking for excessive public displays of affection," I add, scanning the document further. "We're supposed to get to know each other's families and friends, and they expect us to introduce ourselves as an engaged couple, husband, or wife." The rest appears relatively manageable. We're basically expected to spend a lot of time together. I contemplate this. I'm worried that if we stick to it too strictly, I might start disliking him. "Can't we add something about spending time with friends or having some personal space? I'm pretty sure I'd start disliking someone if I'm around them this much. And just to be clear, Mark, it's not you specifically, but anyone, really. I think we should have some personal time."

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Mark grinning. His mouth conveys pride, but his eyes seem surprised. What's caught him off guard?

The next hour is devoted to finalizing the contract, outlining the weeks and years ahead.

"It's getting late. Why don't you both stay in the guest rooms?" My dad suggests. I'm so exhausted that I can't even muster a refusal.

Mark is already dozing off, and John also seems pretty tired. "Thanks, we'll probably take you up on that offer," John says.

"Mark is already asleep. How about you wake him up and show him the guest room? It's the hospitable thing to do," my dad suggests. Again, I'm too worn out to decline, so I simply nod.

I gently wake Mark by shaking him. If he doesn't wake immediately, I give him another shake, but it doesn't make a difference. Since Dad and John aren't present, I decide to do something unconventional. I sit down on the couch next to him and whisper something. "Mr. Hernandez, your wife is ready." It sounds odd and amusing at the same time.

Mark stirs slowly. "Okay, you'll have to wait. Wait for what?" he asks.

"Go to the guest room so she can sleep," I say, standing up and heading to the guest room. "Do you prefer the couch or the bed?" I ask.

He gets up swiftly and heads over. "So, what are your thoughts on everything? How are you feeling about it?" he asks.

I'm uncertain about what to do. "It doesn't seem overly burdensome. My dad won't lose his entire business, I might get to see my mom again, and you appear to be a decent person," I say, speaking my truth.

"If you really knew me, you wouldn't say that," he responds, his tone carrying a hint of secrecy.

We arrive back at the room just as the guests are leaving. "This is your room. I'll bring something more comfy in a while," I say before heading out. When I return, I'm dressed in a T-shirt and loose sweatpants. "Here you go," I offer.

"Thanks," he mutters, facing the door. "I'm sorry for how I treated you. You seemed like you had it all figured out."

"It's okay," I reply. "Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning," I add, with a pause. We both part ways after he nods. When I reach my room, Charlie is already asleep. He goes to his own room.

I try not to wake Charlie up, but it's inevitable. He jolts awake as if he hadn't been asleep at all and asks, "What happened?"

I sigh. Exhaustion makes me reluctant to explain, but I do anyway. "Let's just say I'm engaged," I say, climbing back into bed, not even bothering to change.

"What?" He exclaims. What a mess. I get out of bed and change, knowing I can't escape this situation, so I might as well be comfortable.

I dress and return to bed. "My dad wagered my inheritance. In two months, I'll be married. I have to uphold my end of the deal. And in five years, I'm supposed to have a child. Regular date nights, public displays of affection," I ramble.

"Wait, let me make sure I've got this straight. Your dad bet your inheritance with John, and the only way he can claim it is if a member of his family marries you, and that's his son?" I nod. "Wow. Your life just took a turn."

"What's your take on this?" I'm frustrated, so I ask.

"Sorry. Why are you so edgy?" He responds defensively.

"I just finished reading the contract, and it took me five hours!" I take a breath because this is crucial. "I started today. Specifically, an hour ago."

"My bad. What do you need?" Charlie asks kindly.

"I'm not sure. Just some sleep."

"Alright. Goodnight, Yanna."

"Goodbye, Charles."

...

I woke up in a lot of pain from cramps, and the only thing that helps is baking and eating. Even though it's just Mark here, I need to bake to feel better.

After using the bathroom, I go downstairs to the kitchen. "Let's see, what should I make?" I say to myself. I look in the cupboards. "Breakfast or cookies, hmm. I think breakfast is a good idea. That way, everyone can have some," I keep talking to myself. It's something I do.

I gather all the things I need, put on my headphones, and decide to listen to music. I get so into my music and cooking that I lose track of time. Someone comes into the kitchen, and they tell me it's been an hour. Mark has to clear his throat to get my attention.

I jump. "Oh my goodness! You scared me. Please don't do that when we're married. Ever!" I say, and he just smiles. He's not wearing the shirt I gave him. Actually, he's not wearing anything else.

"I promise," he says and sits down at the bar island. "I have a question," he says.

"What is it?" I ask as I make a plate for him.

"When do you want to go ring shopping?" He takes a bite of bacon. Before I can answer, he adds, "Wow, this is really good. Did you make it?"

I nod. "Yep, I did. How about Wednesday?"

"Sure, but could you get out of school a bit early? I have an appointment," he asks.

"What's the appointment for?" I try not to say too much about school.

"Nothing really. And you didn't answer my question either." Darn it. I thought I could avoid getting caught.

"I don't mind missing my last class. Besides, calculus is a breeze," I say while getting myself a plate, turning away from him.

When I look at him again, his eyes are wide. "You find calculus easy?" He sounds both amazed and shocked.

"Yeah, I finish all the work in the first 20 minutes, then I doodle and let my mind wander for the rest of the time," I say without much thought, then sit down next to him.

"Wow, there's a lot about you I don't know and wouldn't guess. I'm excited to learn more," Mark says.

I'm trying hard to hide the redness on my neck. "I feel the same way, Mark."