I was about to say no, thanks, we're not that kind of married, but his voice had that corporate don't-argue undertone.
I got in the car. "Thanks. Appreciate it."
He just hummed—barely a sound—already turning the key.
We made it to the next block before he added, like it was some offhand comment, "It's no trouble."
I glanced over.
That chiselled, unreadable side profile gave nothing away. Same as before.
From the moment we walked out with that marriage certificate, he hadn't shown a single flicker.
No awkward laughs, no nervous tics.
Just the same ice-cold poise he probably used to fire underperforming staff.
It weirdly helped.
The more he treated this marriage like a business transaction, the easier it was to breathe.
No romantic pressure. No messy feelin
