Chapter 3: Marriage on His Terms

I thought I’d never see Harrison again.

I told myself that was for the best. I needed space to heal.

But then he showed up.

I opened the door and there he was, suit perfect, eyes tired. I braced myself for whatever came next.

Even now, I remember how stunned I felt when he spoke.

His words were measured, but there was something like regret in his voice.

His fiancée found out about me. She wouldn’t marry him unless I got married first.

It sounded absurd, but I believed him. People do strange things when they’re afraid.

She thought I was a threat, wanted me out of the picture.

I almost laughed. I never thought I’d be anyone’s threat.

Out of respect for her, Harrison agreed.

He looked tired, like he’d been fighting a battle he never wanted.

He told me I had to get married within a month.

He said it like he was asking me to pick up groceries, not change my life.

Completely nuts.

But I wasn’t angry. I just asked if, once I was married, I wouldn’t owe him anything and we’d be square.

I wanted closure. I wanted to be free of the debt I’d carried for years.

For years, I felt like I owed him. But we were from different worlds.

I’d replayed every scenario—every way I could pay him back. None of them worked.

Sometimes I wished, like in TV dramas, that a car would come speeding at him and I could push him out of the way—finally repaying what I owed.

It was a ridiculous fantasy, but it helped me sleep.

It’s tough owing someone you can never pay back.

It weighed on me, every day.

Now, I finally had a way to pay him back.

It wasn’t what I’d expected, but it was something.

Marriage is for life. Giving that up for him felt like enough.

I told myself I could live with it. I just wanted to be free.

Harrison said he’d already picked my husband. The guy had dealt with him before and was trustworthy. If I wanted a divorce later, he’d make sure it was easy.

Of course he had.

I agreed.

I said yes without thinking. It was just another transaction.

The guy was Caleb Foster. My age, decent looking, tall.

He had broad shoulders, kind eyes, and a handshake that was firm but not crushing.

Caleb’s father used to be Harrison’s driver. After his wife cheated, he confronted the other man and was killed. Caleb was barely an adult, wasting time in trade school. To get justice for his dad, he dropped out and tried everything, but as a powerless kid, he was no match. The other guy hired a top lawyer and got off with a self-defense plea, not even held responsible.

The story made my heart ache. I saw the anger in Caleb’s eyes, but also something softer—resilience, maybe.

Later, Caleb turned to Harrison. Back then, Harrison had just taken over the company, but with his background and skills, he quickly got the guy put away.

Harrison never said much, but I could tell it mattered.

Caleb told Harrison he owed him a favor—anything, anytime, if he could do it, he’d help.

It was a debt, like mine, but different. Caleb wore it like a badge.

“Don’t worry, he’s loyal and trustworthy,” Harrison told me. “He’s doing well in construction now, richer than you, and he won’t take advantage of you in any way.”

I believed him. Harrison never vouched for anyone lightly.

I met Caleb. He had a bit of a rough edge, but his eyes were honest—he seemed reliable. And I trusted Harrison’s judgment.

He made me laugh. That was enough.

A week later, Caleb and I got our marriage license.

We stood in line at City Hall, surrounded by real couples. We kept it low-key.

Maybe Harrison’s fiancée heard I was married, or maybe she never saw me as a threat. Either way, she never bothered me.

I never heard from her. I was grateful for that.

No surprise. Two months later, Harrison’s wedding was all over the media.

I saw the photos online—white dress, sparkling rings, smiles all around.

I saw a leaked photo of the ceremony—bride and groom exchanging rings, both smiling.

He looked happy. Really happy. I hoped it stuck.

I’d never seen him smile so freely. It was clear he’d found his perfect bride and wedding.

It was a different Harrison—lighter, more open. I was glad for him.

As long as he was happy, everything I’d done was worth it.

More than enough.

Now, I really wouldn’t see him again.

I felt a strange sense of relief. The chapter was closed.

I’m not an outwardly emotional person. My feelings for Harrison—from my first crush, to heartbreak, to forcing myself to let go—were always just mine.

I kept them to myself.

In love, I’ve always been the giving type. When I love someone, I give everything, willingly, and it makes me happy.

I never learned how to play it cool.

I think, after pouring myself into a love with no future, I’d never give so much to anyone again.

I promised myself I’d be careful next time—if there ever was a next time.

I thought I’d never fall for anyone else.

I told myself I was done. Love was too costly.