Contractual Obligations
: Chapter 9

A few days later, I was still thinking about our day at Cheekwood when I came downstairs and saw Heather.

And not just Heather on her laptop working on something. No, she was in a robe with wet hair and freshly scrubbed skin. I hadn’t heard her come up the stairs to use my bathroom, either, which meant she used Sebastian’s in the master bedroom.

My heart dropped.

I didn’t even know she was back in town, much less why she was here. Was she moving here? Was she here for work? Not knowing made me angry, but seeing her in our house with no word of warning made it worse.

I knew I’d see her again, but to flaunt their affair so blatantly in my face?

This was an insult.

“Heather,” I managed to say, despite my internal fury. “I didn’t know you were coming in.”

“Oh, hey. My shower broke at my hotel.”

Of course it did. She smirked in my direction, and I looked away.

“I’m going for a walk,” I muttered.

“Have fun,” she said, casually running her fingers through her hair, as if she weren’t in what was probably Sebastian’s robe after showering in our home.

I heard Sebastian’s door open, and I left before I could hear anything else. I slammed the door behind me and stormed out of the house. The weather was gloomy, and the sky looked like it could spit rain at any moment.

Fuck this. I was going for a drive.

I got into my car and immediately started speeding out of the driveway.

I almost hit a pedestrian.

My car beeped, and I yelped as the car’s auto-stop feature kicked in, preventing a crash. I opened my door, mortified, as I saw curly hair and wide blue eyes.

I instantly recognized her. I almost hit my neighbor, the sweet innocent girl I somehow could never connect with.

Shame warmed my cheeks.

“Oh hey,” she said, chuckling nervously. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out in front of your driveway.”

Oh no. She was apologizing to me?

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. I should have looked where I was going. I . . .”

I didn’t really have an excuse. I was still fuming, but the mortification of almost hitting someone was taking over. I was pretty sure I’d either throw up or cry by the end of the day.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking at me curiously.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I replied, my voice breathy even to my own ears.

“You didn’t actually hit me, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I . . . think I did. I think I saw the ghost of my own relationship.”

“Oh,” the girl said. She looked sad for a moment, and then straightened up. “I’m Amy, by the way. Your neighbor.”

“Hi,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess. I’m Lily. I live . . . here.” I didn’t want to look at the house and see Heather and Sebastian’s shadows. I was worried I would see them kissing.

“You need to talk? You look like you’re going through something.”

“I can’t,” I said, miserably, “but thank you for asking.”

“Are you sure? You can come to my house. I have sweet tea.”

“I’ve never had sweet tea.”

“Well then,” she said, “you definitely need to come over.”

Against my better judgment, I glanced inside the house and saw Sebastian and Heather talking. Feeling on display, I had to get out of the driveway. The sky had finally opened up and the rain started to saturate everything. I didn’t trust myself behind the wheel around the city, especially after almost hitting someone right in front of the house.

“You know what? I think I will.”

Amy’s house had a very similar floorplan and with what could only be the original wallpaper. The floors were more scuffed than ours, but it still felt lived in. She led me to her couch and disappeared into the kitchen.

I didn’t know anything about her other than she seemed to live alone. She could probably kill me before I even knew it, but she seemed sweet and genuinely worried.

And I felt so alone.

“Here you go,” she said, handing me a glass of tea. “This should help.”

I took one sip. “Wow, this is really sweet.”

“Welcome to the South.”

I took another sip right as what happened hit me.

Sebastian and I getting along. Sebastian and I having sex at Cheekwood.

Heather in our house in a robe.

“My husband’s cheating on me,” I admitted lowly.

“What? The tall guy at your house?”

I nodded. I could feel tears in my eyes. “And I can’t even divorce him.”

“Why not? Even if you don’t work, there are always options.”

“I can’t say, but I’m positive I can’t.”

Amy pursed her lips. “Does this have to do with the blonde in your house?”

“Yes.”

“She’s been here a few times.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Maybe to me.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.” I had to ask humbly, because this girl I barely knew held my literal future in her hands.

“Who would I tell?”

“I don’t know, TMZ? Twitter?”

“Are you famous or something?”

“You don’t know me?”

She tilted her head to the side as she considered it. “No . . . Should I?”

I let out a breath of relief. At least she wasn’t digging for information. “I’m an influencer. My whole page is about our relationship.”

“Oh, and me telling would completely break the image, right?”

I sighed, and then nodded.

Amy pulled out her phone and I wondered if she was about to rat me out. Instead, she turned it to me, and showed me her apps. There were maybe ten, none of them social media.

“I don’t have social media. It’s bad for my mental health. I saw you were upset and invited you in. I won’t tell anyone, but if it helps . . . I can tell you a secret about me.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I technically stole this house from my brother, and if he found out, he could probably get it back.”

I blinked. “Why would you tell me that?”

“I have a good instinct,” she said, smiling.

I knew I wouldn’t tell, even if we wound up not liking each other, but she’d taken a risk, if what she’d said was true.

“How did you steal this house?” I probably shouldn’t have asked, but hearing about someone else’s life was a nice distraction from the pain of mine.

“Forgery,” she said. “Definitely not legal, but it’s not like I stole it from someone who was going to live here. I stole it from my brother, who it was left to when my grandma died. But that’s a lot of drama that you probably don’t care about.”

“No, I care,” I said. “This is . . . interesting.”

“Okay, so my brother is a big-time lawyer. He was putting in a pool at his mansion and wanted to sell this place to his developer buddies instead of giving it to a family member in need which was what my grandma wanted. So, I changed my grandma’s will. She always believed he was kinder than he was.”

“Why are you telling me this again?” I asked.

“Because I get a vibe from you that you need to talk, but you don’t trust me, so I’m giving you a reason to.”

“This could easily be used against you though. You know that, right?”

She scoffed good naturedly. “I have ten dollars in my bank account, and your house is way nicer than mine. This place is pretty much the biggest thing I own. Well, mostly own. I don’t know what you would get out of me.”

I didn’t have an answer for her either, but she was really trying and seemed eager to get me to open up. My first thought was to pull away. I didn’t open up with anyone but Jessie, and that hadn’t gone in my favor. I’d been with Sebastian for four years and I had barely begun opening up to him. I wasn’t the kind of person to spill my secrets to people I’d just met.

Then I saw the pure hope in her face.

“Are you trying to . . . befriend me?”

“Maybe,” she said, cheeks darkening, “I’ve seen you go on runs. Sometimes you look happy, but other times you look sad. I never see you hanging out with anyone, so I’ve always wondered if you needed someone to talk to. I’d like to be that person.”

I wasn’t sure what to think about this situation, but I’d already told her I thought Sebastian was cheating on me. I’d already broken my rule of staying tight-lipped to other people after almost hitting her with my car.

And yet she was still being nice to me.

“Thank you,” I said. “Maybe I do need to talk.”

“So, your husband is cheating?” she asked.

“Yes.” I sighed. “What’s worse is that he invited her to the house right after we were . . . intimate.”

“Oh my God,” she said, shaking her head. “Throw the whole man away.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I have to stay loyal . . . for now.”

Amy looked at me doubtfully. “And when can you stop being loyal?”

“I’d say about five years in.”

“Five years? Why a specific number?”

“Because it’s when I can leave,” I said. “It’s a weird situation.”

“Why?”

That was a question I didn’t know how to answer.

“Sorry,” Amy said sheepishly. “I know I’m overstepping. You just met me and I’m asking about your marriage.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I mean, we’re even, I guess. Unless you lied to me about stealing this house.”

“I didn’t,” she said. “I promise.”

I wasn’t sure how much a promise from a stranger meant, but I wanted to believe it.

“So, why can’t you leave?” Amy asked again. “What’s weird about your situation?”

“My entire job is our relationship. I have a pretty big following, and my husband and I are known to be together a lot. His dad bought out my dad’s company because we fell in love.”

“And then he cheated.”

“Yes.”

“Did you guys fall out of love or something?”

“We were never in love.”

“Really?”

I sighed, pressing my face into my hands. I couldn’t tell her about why we were together. I couldn’t.

But I wanted to.

Jessie was the only person who knew, and I was going insane keeping everything inside me.

“There’s something I’m missing, isn’t there?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “And I could get in big trouble if I told you.”

Amy bit her lip, and then went to the back room of the house. She returned with an old-looking binder in her hands.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you my grandmother’s will.” Amy opened the binder and pointed to a paragraph. “Well, the original version.”

A paragraph leaving this house to a man named Brandon.

“Why do you even have the original version?”

“Honestly? I don’t feel great about what I did. I keep this to remember it. Maybe one day I’ll come clean about the whole thing.”

“What would happen if you did?”

“Oh, I’d lose the house, and maybe get sued. I wish I could be one of those people who was satisfied once they got what they wanted, but I hate lying.” She looked at the document wistfully, and then sat it on the old side table by her couch.

“Why did you show me that?”

“To show you I’m not lying. About this, at least. I want you to trust me.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes people have a gut feeling about one another,” she said, shrugging a little shyly. “Haven’t you ever had that?”

My last gut feeling was about Sebastian, and it was pretty obvious it hadn’t worked out in my favor.

But then again, he was different than I imagined. He was still kind, but he’d been working with Heather for a year before I came along. Maybe he simply met her first.

I only wished he were honest about it.

“I’ve had a gut feeling before, but it didn’t work out,” I told her.

“Maybe it will this time,” she said, with a hopeful smile in my direction.

I found myself hoping for the same thing. Then again, who knew what she would think of me if she did replace out?

She could make decent money selling this story. She could ruin me if it got out.

But a part of me wanted to see it get out.

And when the worst-case scenario wasn’t so bad, my walls came down.

“My parents set this up, but not in the blind first date way. They gave us a contract to get married while his family bought my dad’s company so they wouldn’t get bad press that they’re a monopoly now.”

“Whoa,” Amy said.

“They held my inheritance over my head, so I did it.”

“How much money are we talking?”

“Like a million.”

“Oh, then I would have married him too.”

I paused, blinking. “You don’t think I’m a bad person?”

“No,” she said. “It’s not a great situation, but we all do what we have to in order to survive. I literally stole a house. Life is hard these days. Not everyone has a dream that can make a living. Besides, have you worked?”

“I was a model, but I’ve never had a full-time job. If I left before this was up, I would be barred from working for any major company considering both my father and father-in-law are the heads of Miller Industries.”

“Oh, that monopoly. They just opened an office here, didn’t they?”

“Yep. That’s why we’re here. His dad is the CEO.”

“Those are some powerful connections. You did the right thing by just seeing it out then.”

“I don’t know. I am getting cheated on, after all.”

“How do you know he’s cheating?”

I closed my eyes. “The way he always answers her calls. He even answered them on our honeymoon. I haven’t seen them directly, but you should see the way she looks at him. Plus, this morning she was in our house in a robe, and she’d used his shower.”

“That’s definitely incriminating, but he’s never admitted it, right?”

“Not directly, no.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe this is a misunderstanding then?”

I stared at her. Jessie was always so sure Sebastian had someone else. I’d never heard any other perspectives.

“I . . . haven’t,” I said, “but he spends a lot of time with her. It doesn’t matter. This contract ends in just under a year anyway.”

“Even if it does, wouldn’t it be better to know for sure that he likes someone else?”

“It’ll kill me if he is in love with her. Sometimes when Heather isn’t around, I feel like we could be something, but if he does tell me he loves her, then we will never be anything.”

“But then you know, and you can heal from there.”

“I don’t want to know, though. I want us to be—” I stopped before I could let it out.

I want us to be something.

Amy stared at me. “You what to be what?”

I shook my head, seeing Jessie’s disappointed stare in the back of my mind.

“Never mind.”

“I’m getting the idea you have feelings for him.”

“No,” I rushed to say. “I promise, I don’t feel anything about him.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad thing if you did.”

“My former best friend seemed to think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m contracted to be with him. He’s the son of the enemy, and he’s in love with someone else.”

“Whoa, there’s a lot of information there. Yes, you’re in a contract. He’s the son of a company you don’t like, but is he your enemy?”

“I thought he was,” I said softly. “But recently I’ve started to believe he’s as trapped as I am.”

“And do you know for sure he’s in love with someone?”

“No,” I whispered, tears clouding my vision.

“I think you should talk to him. You don’t have to tell him your feelings, but you need to know if there is someone else. If there is, then you need distance. You need to move on. If not, then maybe you could be on the same page.”

I blinked away my tears. “Is it that simple?”

“No, it’s going to suck,” she said, “but it will help.”

I nodded. I tried to imagine asking him directly about Heather, and all I could see was him telling me yes, that he was in love with her.

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“That’s okay. Just remember that ripping the Band-Aid off allows you to heal sooner.”

I nodded.

“Thank you,” I said. “You could have judged me, but you didn’t.”

“Why would I judge you?”

“I’m . . . not sure. My former best friend did, though.”

“Sounds like a bad best friend.”

“She was worried about me. She thought I did all of this to stay on my family’s good side.”

“So what if you did? There’s still no reason to judge you.”

“I mean, my family sucks.”

“Yeah, but a lot of families do. And I think we all seek their approval from time to time.”

“But I plan to leave when this is over. I just needed the money to do it, and that’s what she didn’t like.”

“We all need money to live. And besides, I don’t think you need judgment. You need a friend.”

“That’s the problem. She was my only friend.”

Amy laughed. “I’m your friend. At least if you want me to be.”

I blinked. “Uh, what?” I said, inelegantly.

“I’ve wanted to be your friend since you moved here,” she told me. “Most of our neighborhood is still old people and no one is really our age. You seem cool.”

“I’d . . . I mean sure. But I won’t be in town forever.”

“I can travel.”

“And my life is pretty messy.”

“Mine is too. You already know I’m a thief.”

Well. That was a good point.

Was making friends this easy? I’d always had a hard time with it, but that was mainly because my mom only wanted me to make friends she approved of. I was now on my own, and I liked Amy.

“I-I’d love to be friends, actually,” I told her, smiling.

“Cool! We can get hot chicken if you want.”

“That’s the one Nashville food I haven’t tried.”

“Oh, it’s so good,” she said. “Want to stay longer? I can tell you the horror story of the first time I tried it.”

I glanced in the direction of the house. I wasn’t ready to go back. I needed to face Sebastian eventually, but I wasn’t ready.

“I’ll stay,” I said. “I’d love a good story about hot chicken.”

We spent hours talking. I learned almost everything about her family, and left feeling buzzed from the sugar alone in the sweet tea.

I walked into my house feeling good. Then I remembered this morning, and saw Heather’s bag in the living room, and my mood instantly soured.

I grabbed my laptop and went to the coffee shop, content to write for a bit.

“Amy, no,” I said, looking at my new friend as if she had lost her mind.

“Amy, yes,” she said, looking evilly at the menu.

“They’re like five warnings about that chicken,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I just saw some guy crying.”

“I’m a native Nashvillian. I can handle it.”

“You might actually die.”

Amy waved me off and marched to the front to order the hottest chicken on the menu.

It was the next day and Amy had obviously taken it seriously when she said we would be friends. I was bored out of my mind dealing with writer’s block when she knocked on the door and dragged me out of the house for hot chicken. I only had time to put my laptop into hiding before I was whisked away.

I had gone back to being quiet with Sebastian. I was working up the courage to ask him what he and Heather were, but I needed to get over the stinging betrayal I felt whenever I saw him.

Twenty-four hours wasn’t enough.

I was trying to push it out of my mind and enjoy hanging out with a new friend. It was only marginally working, up until Amy told me she was ordering the hottest thing on the menu.

We were in an old 50s-style diner called Prince’s. It was the origin of hot chicken, and top of the line. Even on a Monday night, the restaurant was packed. It was going to be a fight for a table.

“It’s black,” I said a few moments later, as we were handed Styrofoam boxes packed with food. Amy opened hers to inspect it. “There are so many spices on it that it’s black.”

She made an excited noise and led me to a table.

“I’ll die happy then,” she said. “I’m ready to suffer.”

She dug in. I could feel the spice from across the table. After only a few bites, she coughed and was only able to mutter a quiet, “It’s good.”

“Hm,” I said. “It’s your funeral.” I took a bite out of mine. The mild I’d ordered had a stronger kick than I expected. I could only imagine how Amy was feeling.

She was shoving the food into her mouth as fast she as could. Her face was getting redder, and I kept asking if she was okay, but she seemed to be having the time of her life.

Despite its heat, the food was good. I could see why she would be willing to suffer for it. Behind every bit of heat was a delicious flavor.

About ten minutes into it, Amy started crying. Ten minutes after that, she was chugging a Gatorade she’d pulled out of her purse. When I finished, she was laying her head down on the table, defeated.

“That was amazing,” she muttered after I’d finished my plate.

“Are you sure?”

“What?” she asked. “I like pain.”

I laughed at her expression, and then my phone rang. Sebastian’s name flashed on my screen.

“Shit. It’s Sebastian,” I told Amy before answering.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m getting food,” I replied, my heart racing. Suddenly, I was noticing how loud the restaurant was, and how it would sound on the other end.

“Where? With who?” he accused.

“Just a friend,” I said.

“You’re supposed to be here. This is the second time Heather has come here to replace you missing.”

“Well, it’s the second time I’ve seen Heather in our house with no warning,” I hissed. “Sorry if my plans don’t coincide with your time with your assistant.”

“What are you talking about?”

I forced my anger away. Getting into a fight would do nothing to help the situation. I still needed to talk to him, after all.

“I’ll be home soon,” I said, hanging up before I could get angry again.

“He’s mad?” Amy asked.

“He’s mad because this is the second time I’ve been out when Heather came over.”

“Is this a contract thing or a cheating thing?”

“Still no clue, but I better get back. He sounded serious. I don’t need to make it any worse.”

Amy sighed. “Well, it was fun while it lasted. I’ll drive you back.”

We drove home in silence. As we got near the house, I found myself feeling a frustrating mix of angry and nervous.

Amy dropped me off in front of the house and then drove to hers. I took a steadying breath before walking in.

It was just Sebastian, thank God, and Heather’s stupid bag was gone which meant she was too.

“Dinner?” he asked from the couch. “Really?”

“Yes, dinner. With a friend.”

Sebastian shook his head. “It’s like you’re not even trying.”

“Not even trying? I’m not the one who had another woman in the house before eight to shower.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do realize that we have a neighbor, right? Someone who could see that and wonder what the hell is going on?”

Luckily, Amy wouldn’t tell, but he didn’t know that.

“I doubt the neighbor would notice a woman taking a shower here.”

“You never know,” I said. “If anyone isn’t trying, it’s you.”

“I’ve done my best,” he hissed. “Don’t get angry because I let my assistant shower here. You have no room to talk!”

“Yes, I do. This is my house too.”

“Then try being here when Heather shows up,” he said, voice still hard.

“I don’t even know when she’s coming! Besides, she already knows anyway. What’s the point?”

“Heather knows nothing,” Sebastian said.

I scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”

Even if he wasn’t cheating, it would take an idiot not to notice something was wrong between us. Amy had, and she hadn’t ever been in the same house as us.

But my heart hoped Heather didn’t know anything.

“Maybe I will tell her, then.” Sebastian’s cold voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “She’s always asked if we were okay.”

I wanted to tell him no. If Heather really didn’t know, then I wanted it to stay that way. If they somehow weren’t together, then I didn’t want to be the catalyst that pulled them to one another.

I opened my mouth to beg him not to tell her, but he wasn’t done.

“I’ll see her tomorrow,” he said. “I can tell her when she stops by to shower here again.”

My mouth shut, and rage flooded my veins.

“Any reason she can’t be anywhere else? Or do you need her here?”

It wasn’t a direct question, but his answer would tell me a lot.

“I need her here for lots of reasons. She’s going to move here to be my assistant again, but she’s having trouble replaceing a place. She could stay here. We have the space and you seem to need a reason to be here.”

Rage turned to hurt, and the hurt multiplied, turning into something ugly in my chest. I stared at him and tried to imagine life not only with Heather in it, but living with us?

She and Sebastian could probably talk about anything and everything. Maybe he’d start smiling at her like he did me; maybe I’d walk in on them sleeping together, with Sebastian looking at her the same way he does me and saying the words I used to think were sweet.

I felt my eyes grow wet, which had to be one of the most frustrating parts of the night. “Great,” I muttered, my voice cracking. “Let me know when she moves in.”

Sebastian blinked, anger melting off his face. I absolutely refused to cry in front of him, so I walked up the stairs and to my room.

And that’s when the tears fell.

But I didn’t just cry. I pulled my laptop out and began to write.

None of the words I wrote were happy.