Contract proposal

~Grayson

My heart stops the moment I hear the lawyer's words. It takes a while for me to work through the meaning, even longer for me to digest it.

I stare at the girl who seems just as shocked as I am. Her mouth hangs open and she doesn't even bother to close it, her face looking even more drained of color—not that it had any to begin with.

I finally get a good view of her face, her green eyes sparkling under the chandelier lights. For a moment, it seems like they aren't really sparkling just because of the lights.

They're shinny one minute and the next, they're cloudy? She shakes her head, blinking a bit too much as her fingers curl into fists.

Her lips tremble and I can't ignore how her body seems to be shaking too. She pulls her gaze away from the lawyer and anchors it on the ground for a second before they move up, landing straight on my face.

Our eyes meet, the intensity of her gaze making me shudder a bit. I look away, trying hard to ignore her glazed eyes. This should be the least of my problems right now.

"I don't accept. To hell with your money."

I begin to stand up, ignoring all the voices which are quick to fill the air. Some come as whispers while the others are loud enough; all aimed at restraining me but I don't budge.

I turn to the lawyer. Her face is expressionless and it almost seems as if she had been expecting my reply.

"It was nice meeting you and thank you so much for bailing me out," I say, stretching forth my right hand for a shake.

She looks me over, her eyes dragging down my extended hand. "It wasn't a favour," she says, her hands remaining glued to her sides.

I lower my hand in slow motion as she continues speaking.

"In fact, I was meant to recover the money I spent on the bail once we finalized everything and you got your share of money."

"I don't unders—"

"However," the lawyer says, as if I hadn't even been talking, "now that you're not getting any money. I can't get my money either. That is unless you can pay me back, of course. So are you willing to pay me?"

I let out a sigh. After all I had been through, I should have never expected that anyone would be genuinely nice. Every single soul that walked the earth claiming to be a human was selfish. So darn selfish!

No one would ever do anything good for you unless they had an ulterior motive and this lawyer just proved it.

"How much is it?" I ask, a lump forming in my throat.

I don't want to hear her reply. I already know what to expect but it doesn't make it any easier when she speaks.

"Sixty thousand dollars, roughly. If you're to add a few really important things. I'm leaving out the minor expenses."

Her emphasis on 'minor' is irritating.

"I wouldn't want to stress you and all," she continues, "you know, since you already have to deal with your sister."

Ari.

My brain picks up it's functioning from where it stopped and I play over the conversation with the doctor in my head, what lead to this whole issue.

How the doctor had decided to cut off her treatment because of lack of funds. I need money to continue her treatment and here I am, staring face to face with the solution to my problems.

The only problem is, am I really ready to get married again? I am yet to recover from what Renata did to me and I’m meant to just jump straight into another marriage? I run my hand through my hair, cussing under my breath.

I don’t understand why all this had to happen. I never wished for any of this drama. I never wanted any of this but it seems like I always just attract bad luck to myself. I spare the girl another glance. Her eyes are fixed on the painting of the last supper I was staring at earlier.

She remains perfectly still; admiring it like it’s the most beautiful thing she has set her eyes on. She remains like that for a few minutes until the old woman stands by her side. She flinches when she touches her and doesn’t say a word as she whispers something to her.

Time stretches without any reaction from her. After a while, she gives a stiff nod and slowly follows the old woman out of the room, not even sparing a glance backwards.

“I believe I at least deserve your attention, Mr. Wyatt.”

I turn at the lawyer’s voice to find her staring expectantly at me. I have no idea that she had been talking; let alone even knowing what she was talking about. I try to remember the last part of our conversation before I spaced out but my head remains blank; choosing this moment to refuse to cooperate.

“I hope you’re ready to accept the terms of the will. It’s in everyone’s best interest.” The lawyer’s voice is stern, giving no room for arguments. “Adeline can only receive her share of the property if you get married to her and I believe you also need the money for your sister’s treatment. It’s a sort of win-win situation. What’s the worst that could possibly happen?”

Her last statement rings in my head. What’s the worst case scenario here? Renata already ruined everything we had between us. As much as I try denying it, there is no going back. This isn’t a nightmare which would get better the moment I wake up. Nothing would get better if I don’t act.

But will I really just succumb and accept the money of a man who treated us like trash? The same man who threw us out on the street when we needed him the most? Nothing can ever compare to the resentment I feel towards Andrew Wyatt. It’s tempting to shove their offer back in their face and show them that I don’t need his dumb charity to survive and I’ve just made up my mind to do so when Ari’s face flashes before my eyes.

I feel weak at the knee and unable to do anything. Thanks to the Rodriguez family, I have nothing to show for my years of hard work, not even a penny. The last thing I’m going to do is watch my sister die—not when I can do something about it.

“I see you’ve decided to remain adamant,” the lawyer says, grabbing my attention again.

I wonder how long my silence must have stretched out for her to have assumed that. She lets out a sigh and I watch her grab her briefcase. She begins to arrange files in it one after the other, taking her time to sort them out. My lips part, against my will, and soon I hear my voice—foreign and almost sounding choked.

“I agree.”

The reply is almost inaudible and for a moment I hope she didn’t hear it. My expectations are crashed when she looks up to me with a broad smile on her face.

“I knew you would come around. Now it’s up to you guys. Talk to Adeline. . . your bride, I mean and you guys can decide when the marriage should take place. And also try to do something about your current wife. I can help you draft the divorce papers when you’re ready; you just need to say the word. I was very good friends with your father so don’t hesitate to reach out to me whenever you need any form of help.”

She stands up, extending her hand for a shake. “I’ll take my leave now.”

I stare at her extended hand for a moment before asking, “Aren’t you going to drop me off at my place?”

She chuckles, dropping her hand to her side. “I’m afraid I can’t. You can get anyone to drop you off or you can just spend the night here. It is your house after all and plus, it’s too late to return to your apartment. It’s literally on the other side of the town.

“Here’s a quick advice, just spend the night here. You can go over and get your things tomorrow. I’m pretty sure your grandma wouldn’t mind getting people to help move your things—”

“Hold up,” I say, unable to comprehend her last statement, “Who said I was moving out of my apartment?”

“Aren’t you?” she asks, her smile twitching.

I shake my head. Her brows slightly rise at my action and she stares at me like I’m not making any sense.

“You would rather live in that run down place than living here? Tell me you’re joking, Mr. Wyatt.”

“Last I checked, it’s my life and I get to decide what to do with it.”

My teeth clench on their own as I try not to glare at the Korean woman. I’ve noticed a pattern with rich people and I can confidently say that I hate them. They’re all effortlessly snobbish, degrading, demeaning, even without trying.

It’s like a second nature to them; a built-in attribute they can’t easily rid themselves of. Mrs. So-Min might have intended no harm with her words but it still struck me the wrong way.

“It’s your choice,” she says, shrugging, “I guess I’ll take my leave now.”

It takes everything in me to return the smile she flashes at me. I remain standing there, long after she leaves. I’m startled when a hand lands on my shoulder. I turn to find the elderly woman who had led the girl in white away earlier.

She smiles, a warm smile which lights up her honey brown eyes. Wrinkles line the edges of her eyes and a few strands of her greyish brown hair fall across her face.

“How are you doing?”

I raise a brow at her, my lips tilting in a frown. I can see the resemblance between her and my father now. It’s not hard to figure that she’s the grandmother Mrs. So-Min had been talking about but it doesn’t do anything to lighten my mood. Not a single thing.

Courtesy is the only thing preventing me shoving her hand away from my shoulder and the only reason I even bother to give her a reply.

“I’m doing okay,” I grumble out my reply.

“I know that’s not true. Come on, you can talk to me,” her voice is calm—motherly even.

I try not to glare at her. Where is all this affection coming from all of a sudden? Where was she when I and my mother needed her? I know I can’t blame her but if she had raised her son to be a better person, my mother would have been spared half the trouble she went through.

“I’m fine,” I insist, almost shoving her aside as I try to leave the room.

“How can I ever get you to forgive me?”

Her voice is low, almost inaudible, but I catch it just as I step my foot out of the door. I turn to her and find her staring at me with those honey brown eyes.

“Don’t even bother.”

She remains still for a moment before letting out a sigh. Her eyes glisten but she maintains eye contact with me. I almost backtrack, feeling bad for the briefest moment. The feeling disappears almost as soon as it comes up.

“Take a right turn once you go down the hall, your room is first one there,” she says after a while.

I hadn’t expected her to say anything else. I nod before heading in the direction she told me. I don’t bother to give her a reply when I hear her ‘goodnight’ coming after me; neither do I stop on my way to my room. Not even when I hear muffled cries coming from the room next to mine.