Love after Divorce (Mason and Paige)

My name is Paige Harper, and I'm 21 years old. My parents own one of the bigger construction companies in London.

I'm an only child, much to my father's dismay, who always wanted a son. According to him, "women are meant to stay at home." I've been trying for years to make him understand that times have changed and that I am capable of looking after the company and making it grow much more than he has. However, he doesn't believe me and is determined to marry me off to secure the future of the company.

Needless to say, I don't agree with getting married, especially not to someone I don't know. The worst part is that if I refuse, I won't be able to continue studying the remaining year and a half of business administration since my father will kick me out if I don't marry the man, he found for me.

What kind of man agrees to marry for money? Surely none who is a good and honest person.

Tonight, I have an important dinner, which my father, as always, organized without informing me. He says there's no need to inform me since I don't do anything all day. I'm so tired of living with them that if I could, I would leave. Unfortunately, my parents are elderly, and anyone interested can take advantage of them just to gain access to the company. I only look after their interests so that they have a good life.

My father is about to retire, with only two years left. After that, he will travel with my mother. If you're wondering how, it's possible for my parents to be so old when I'm only 21, well, as I mentioned before, I'm an only child. They spent years trying to become parents, trying various methods, and eventually resorted to surrogacy. It's a bit crazy, I couldn't imagine giving away a child that grew inside me. When I was born, they took care of me from the very first minute of my life.

I never knew who the person was that carried me in their womb for months, but it didn't really matter to me, just as it didn't matter to them. My mother was already over 40 years old when I was born, and my father was nearly 50.

My childhood was beautiful; they indulged me in all my whims. Although I must admit, I'm not very materialistic. For me, the value lies in the time given to me, the time dedicated solely to me. That holds more value for me than the most expensive car in the world. Luckily, my father always made time for me, even though he worked until the weekends. He always finds time to talk or have a coffee with me. I say "he still does" because he continues to make time for me.

My mother is more into knitting; when we have our coffees, she doesn't interrupt those father-daughter moments.

She is more into reading and knitting, in addition to taking care of her baby, a little dog that looks like a toy, or rather, a fluffy stuffed animal. Sometimes I'm afraid of stepping on her. She is small and very attached to my mom. Wherever my mother is, the dog, whose name is Sofia, is there too. I insisted that Sofia is not a suitable name for a dog, but her response was, "Even better, Sofia is like a daughter to me, not just a dog that can have a vulgar pet name." After hearing her say that I preferred to remain silent.

Arguing about the name of her pet was silly and a waste of time. In the end, I nodded, conceding the point, even though I know she's wrong.

As for my mother, what matters most to her is what people will say, how you present yourself at an important gathering, always looking good, with makeup, a styled hairdo, and, above all, maintaining a figure that others envy so that your husband won't look at other women. Ugh, what can I say about that? I don't share the same view, and she knows it. The only time she said that to me, I shared my perspective, and when she learned my way of thinking, she didn't speak to me for two months.

What's wrong with believing that if a man, who is supposedly your husband, looks at another woman, it's best to end the marriage and go your separate ways? I don't mean that just looking is a problem, because obviously, we all look. The issue is if they cheat on you; that's a different story. I wouldn't be able to forgive infidelity; I could never live with someone who has been or is capable of being with another woman. Loyalty is important to me; it's something I don't compromise on.

Tired of my mother's glances, I take a bath before going to the hair salon. There's no point in arguing about this topic. It's always her way that prevails. She allowed me to get my hair styled and wear makeup, although the girl in charge knows that I prefer a natural look, nothing too vibrant or exaggerated. The gathering is a formal dinner, so I have the dress waiting for me in my room. If you're wondering where I am, well, I'm in a room that the makeup artist exclusively uses for that purpose. That's how pretentious my mother is. I remember as if it were yesterday when I longed to be like her. I was around 5 years old, dreaming of wearing makeup and being at dinners with my parents. If only my parents' friends were less hypocritical, attending wouldn't be such a torment. But those people are on the fast track to hell. It's stupid to put on a smile when everyone who will be there is only interested in buying their company and making money. However, I won't let that happen.

Now that I'm ready, according to my mother, I finally go to get dressed. My dress is simple yet elegant, a perfect blend of sophistication and allure. Physically, I would say I'm fairly average. I don't have a model's body since I have excess fat in my legs and rear. As for my upper body, I have a bust, but nothing exaggerated. When they weren't growing, my mother considered getting me surgery at 16. I was a bit slow in development. If it weren't for my father, she would have gone through with it, which is why she and I aren't close.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I realize that the dress accentuates my figure more than I expected. The person who picked it out for me knew exactly what they were doing. With a smile on my face, my father finds me as he knocks on the door of my room.

"My girl, I would like... Wow, you look beautiful," he says, interrupting what he was going to say.

"Thanks, Daddy. What were you saying?" Upon hearing me, he remembers that he was telling me something. At his age, he's starting to forget some things. He's already 69 years old.

"Of course, my love. I'm sorry, you know my mind has been a little off lately. I need to talk to you before we go downstairs to the gathering," he says, taking my hand and setting aside the smile.

"You look so serious, you're scaring me," I say, sitting next to him on my bed.

"I organized this so you could meet your fiancé," he says calmly.

I let go of his hand upon hearing the crazy things he's saying. I stand up from his side and pace back and forth in my room. I don't even know what to say first, I don't really know what to say about anything.

"I understand that you're upset but let me explain. As you know, I'm at an age where I can't pretend, I'm not. My body is no longer fit to carry the company on my shoulders. You're still very young to do it. I don't want you to feel pressured to take on that responsibility. You just have to study and finish everything so that in a few years, you can take the reins of the family legacy," he says, trying to fix things between us.

"You've gone crazy! What fiancé are you talking about? I have no plans to get married or anything like that. You can forget about that idea," I say, pointing my index finger at his face.

"It will only be for three years, then everyone goes back to their lives before getting married," he explains, justifying everything with that.

"Three years? This must be a joke" I say running my hand through my hair.

"Just let me explain to you how things are, I'm sure you'll understand everything" he asks me to plead with his gaze.

"I don't think an explanation will make me change my mind about this" I reply taking a breath and sitting down in front of my father.

"Well, as you know I am thinking of retiring, you are just studying to be able to take care of everything, you are still too young. That's why I talked to my best friend, he agreed to make this business deal, where you get married with separate property with his son and after three years you get divorced, during those three years his son will take over the company and will teach you in practice when you finish your studies. When the time stipulated in the contract passes your son will return to his company and you will stay with ours. You wonder how he accepted this deal, well simple, he had economic difficulties and I have helped with that condition. Everything is spoken, his son knows, and he said yes, you are the only one missing".

He tells me putting a little pressure on my shoulders.

It's not fair that he's doing this to me. I thought he believed I was capable of taking over the company. Why the hell does he have to ask someone to marry me? I don't understand any of this.

"Why do we have to get married? We can sign a contract, but we don't necessarily have to get married," I say, searching for an answer to this madness.

"If you refuse to marry him, he will still take over the company, but you won't have any rights to it," he says to me seriously.

"What? Are you fucking me?" I exclaim, annoyed.

"It was an agreement we made many years ago. I never imagined it would come true, daughter. It's something beyond my control. If you don't get married, we will lose our company and everything," I look at him, searching for sanity in his expression.

"You can't just tell me something like this so calmly. I insist that this is a joke in very bad taste," I say, very upset.

I'm pacing back and forth without stopping when someone knocks on the door of my room. My father tenses up and looks at me cautiously.

"Permission to enter," says the voice of a very attractive man. If I weren't so upset, I might even give him a smile.

"What do you need?" I say politely.

"Well, to talk to you first, and then go down to the guests who are whispering things every minute," he says, shrugging.

"Come in, son. I'll wait for you downstairs," says my cowardly father, yes, cowardly!

"I don't think we've had the pleasure," he says, entering my room.

"I agree with you," I reply, crossing my arms.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Mason, your fiancé," he says, smiling, and I lose color in my face.

I must have a terrible expression for poor Mason to approach me cautiously and sit me down on my bed while offering me water to recover.

"I don't understand. How can you be so calm about marrying each other?" I ask, realizing that for him, it's something normal that has been going on for a while.

"I found out a week ago. I overheard your father talking to mine about that contract, which was a stupid decision made by young and drunk versions of themselves. When they found out they would both be parents, one of a boy and the other of a girl, and thanks to my grandfather, who was always a greedy idiot, they created that agreement stating that we had to be married for a minimum of three years, or else they would lose all their assets. That's why I'm here to talk to you. I can do it and I want to tell you that I won't force anything. We'll just be two strangers living together, and after the three years, each one will have what belongs to them, and we'll go on with our lives," he says, smiling.

I think I'm living in a parallel universe. That must be it. I can't believe this is happening to me.

"Weren't you in a relationship? Are you willing to give it all up for the foolishness our parents did?" I say, still trying to process all of this.

None of this is right. I don't understand how my whole life went to shit because of an agreement my father signed many years ago. I wasn't even born when he did it. I'm not to blame for any of this, it should be illegal to do something like this.

"I don't have a girlfriend; I wasn't planning on having one. I won't cheat on you or tarnish your name during these three years. I ask the same in return..." he says so calmly that it makes me want to punch him.

Upon closer inspection, he's quite handsome. He has grayish-blue eyes, a two-day beard, and brown hair. For a moment, I feel like getting lost in the blue of his eyes, but I snap back to reality when I realize he's waiting for a response to something he asked, which I obviously didn't hear.

"Eh?" is all that comes out of my mouth.

"If you agree to what I recently mentioned, you're not the only one who dislikes the idea, believe me, I'm not happy about this either. However, I think about the future. I don't want to lose my family legacy because I can't spend three years with a girl I don't know, not to mention that we won't have to be together privately as spouses. Clearly, in front of others, we must pretend to be happy, but I think the sacrifice is worth it. I'll repeat what you didn't hear, I won't make you look bad in front of anyone, no one will see me being unfaithful, and I expect the same from you. We can come up with ideas over time to ensure that no one finds out," he says, looking at me expectantly.

"I'm trying to process everything. It's not easy to know that at 21 years old, I'm going to marry someone whose name is all I know. For that same reason, you'll understand that I can't blindly trust your word regarding infidelity. You should get used to the idea that we won't be intimate; it's not going to happen. I'll continue with my studies during this time, and when I finish, you'll teach me about my father's business so I can manage it properly after the three years," I say, standing up from where I was sitting.

"Then we have a deal. We can discuss more rules between the two of us, but right now, people are waiting for us, my future wife," he says, smiling and winking.

"This won't be good," I mutter more to myself than to him, but to my misfortune, he hears me, and it makes him smile even more.

"Look at the bright side of all this, you won't have to live with your parents during these three years," he says, smiling.

"How old are you?" I ask, looking at his face, lost in thought.

"Physically, I'm 26 years old. Psychologically, it's a different story," he replies, taking my hand and looking ahead.

At that moment, I realize that everyone is watching us curiously. I think I would do the same. This doesn't happen every day. I smile automatically, as I've been taught since I was young, following my mother's teachings about appearances. What would they say if they knew everything that's happening with this engagement for marriage? I want to scream and show everyone present that it's all a lie, the smile and Mason's hand on my waist as he comments that love caught us by surprise, and that's why we're getting married. I've even had to endure insinuations about pregnancies.

It is that they have no life? that they are pending mine, because it does not end all this at once. I just want to sleep and think that all this was a nightmare, that none of this is real. I look at my mother smiling proudly for the early wedding of her only daughter, I am surprised to see how she tells how she always knew we were destined for each other,

I didn't even know him until a few minutes ago!

It is that they have no life? that they are pending mine, why doesn't all of this just end already? I just want to sleep and think that all of this was a nightmare, that none of this is real. I look at my mother smiling proudly about her only daughter's upcoming wedding. It surprises me how she talks about always knowing that we were meant for each other. But I didn't even know him until a few minutes ago!

The gathering continues, and I check the clock every minute. I just want to leave. I don't even want to sleep in this house. I don't have loyal and sincere friends. I can't tell anyone about this. I'm sure that if I confide in any of my friends, it will end up as the gossip of the week in the news.

I sigh as they start saying their goodbyes, and I tense up when Mason approaches me and whispers in my ear.

"We need to talk. We can go somewhere else to have a conversation," he suggests. I consider the idea for a moment, and desperate to get out of here, I agree to go wherever.

"Alright, let's discuss our agreement, separate from the one our parents signed," I tell him, taking his hand. I approach my parents and smile as I see them saying goodbye to some people. "If you'll excuse us," I manage to say, but Mason interrupts.

"Parents, if you'll allow me, I want to take my fiancée for a walk," he says with a charming smile.

"Of course, dear," my mother responds, smiling.

My father doesn't have the same smile as my mother. He just nods after looking at me and realizing that I don't want to see him right now. I feel to upset and betrayed by everyone. I feel like a toy, or rather, a commodity being traded to keep the business in the family. I even question if this was always my purpose from birth, perhaps.

We leave my parents' house in silence, both still smiling until we get into his car. It's like a theater. The smiles vanish in an instant, and we sit as far away from each other as possible. Mason clears his throat and tells the driver that we're going to the hotel.

"We're just going to talk. I think we'll run out of time to clarify everything," he says more to himself than to me.

I sigh and look out the window of the vehicle to clear my mind. I just want to sleep, but not before clarifying everything with Mason. It gives me chills just thinking about our "marriage."

We arrive at the city's finest hotel, and he gets out and helps me do the same. If there's one thing I appreciate about Mason, it's that he's a gentleman. We enter the elevator in silence, not even looking at which floor we're going to. I twist my fingers as I think about all the conditions I want to set in this agreement.

As we step out of the elevator, we enter a huge suite with two bedrooms, a living room, and a sitting area where Mason is seated, inviting me to sit beside him. I do so, feeling nervous, anxious, and exhausted all at once.

"I have a copy of the contract signed by our parents. They don't know I have it. If you want, you can read it, but I've done it more times than you'd like to know, and there's no way to annul it," he says, taking a folder from his right side.

The truth is, I don't have the mental capacity to read it right now. I trust Mason's word when he says there's no way to annul the contract. He's just as unhappy with the idea of getting married as I am.

"I can't focus on reading it now. I'd prefer we clarify our agreement. Tomorrow, if my headache subsides a bit, I can read the document in detail," I say, handing the folder back to him.

"I understand. Well, I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of knowing about this before you, but I took the liberty of drafting an agreement that I want you to read. We can add whatever you want before signing it. You can read it calmly in the room on the right, and tomorrow morning we'll finalize everything. It's been a very long night, and I don't want you to regret signing something in haste," he says calmly, and I see a hint of tenderness in his eyes.

"You're really something."

Shut up, conscience. It's just mental fatigue and stress from everything that happened tonight!

"That sounds good, and thank you for everything," I sincerely say to him.

After all, he's been the only one honest with me.

He doesn't have any ill intentions...for now!

I think he's in the same situation as me. We're both in this because of our parents. We couldn't even voice our opinions, and that's why he understands my distress.

I bid him farewell and watch as he remains seated, pouring himself a drink. I'd like to ask for one myself, but I'm not accustomed to alcohol, and I might do something reckless. It's better if I focus on reading the agreement and taking notes on my ideas.

Being alone, the first thing I do is take off my dress and stay in my underwear. I let down my blonde hair and go to the bathroom to wash my face. Thankfully, I remove most of the makeup. I sit on the bed and sigh once again, taking the folder. It contains blank sheets of paper and a pencil to add my notes or rules.

I read it, and I'm surprised to realize that he didn't just think about himself; he also considered me.

The first point states that neither of us will disrespect each other in any way, and we won't prohibit anything regarding our individual tastes and friendships. There will be no questioning or explanations required for outings.

Secondly, we will support each other throughout the three-year duration of the agreement, as teammates. In public, we'll pretend to be in love, but privately, we'll maintain only a friendship.

Thirdly, loyalty and honesty are required. If either of us desires to be with someone else, it must be with the other person's consent, and it should only be a physical relationship without emotional attachments for these three years.

Fourth, we'll decide together whether to attend social events or not. It depends on both of us.

Fifth, after the three years, no one will speak about the agreement. We'll simply divorce and explain that it didn't work out, that we only see each other as friends.

Sixth, we will never disclose this agreement or the other agreement to anyone else. It will remain strictly between the participants involved in this deal.

Seventh, intimacy between Mason and Paige will only occur if both parties are in agreement and on the condition that no emotions are involved.

Eighth, both will try to build a friendship where there is enough trust to communicate any issues or grievances regarding their shared living arrangement for the next three years.

Ninth, if a friendship doesn't develop between them, they will strive to maintain a cordial relationship to keep a resentment-free environment at home.

Tenth and final, if either of them develops any feelings for the other, they must communicate it in order to find a way to address it. This is to ensure that when the three years end, they won't suffer from the separation as agreed upon.

I read it several times and think about what I can add. The truth is, everything he included seems reasonable, and I have no objections to his conditions. I think I could add something, but first, I need to read what the other agreement between our parents says.

For now, I just want to close my eyes and forget everything. My head is throbbing with the pain what I am feeling.

I settle on the bed wearing my underwear.

The next day, I wake up wrapped in blankets, not even remembering how I got there. I recall throwing myself onto the bed and nothing more. I shift as I feel the light streaming in through the window, turning my body and letting out a scream when I realize that Mason is sitting in the chair across from the bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he says, raising his hands in surrender.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, covering my chest with the bedsheet.

"Well, I came to see if you were awake. I covered you with a blanket because you didn't do it last night. I noticed that you didn't jot down any conditions," he replies, pointing to the sheet of paper beside him.

"I thought I should read the other agreement first, to see if they had stipulated anything that I wouldn't agree with," I nervously explain.

"Here it is. I don't mean to be pushy, but I'd like to get this sorted out as soon as possible," he says with concern.

"Okay, I understand. Would you mind lending me a pair of your sweatpants or a t-shirt to wear? I don't want to walk around in last night's dress," I say, blushing.

"Sure, I'll go get some clothes," he answers, leaving the room.

As he goes to get the clothes, I read the agreement between our parents, and I want to kill my own father. This agreement is garbage, it makes no sense. Two drunkards signing it in front of a damn notary, and I don't even know how they allowed them to do this in their intoxicated states.

It states that when I turn 21, I will marry their friend's already-born son, and we will have to be married for a minimum of three years, or the party that refuses to fulfill the agreement will have to hand over their company and fortune to the other party. It's worth mentioning that at that time, they were just starting out in the business world. Perhaps they never thought they would become so wealthy and influential.

That doesn't excuse the stupidity they committed, especially handing it over to a lawyer who was responsible for ensuring that the agreement is enforced.

I give a small jump on the bed as I feel the door being opened and closed. When I look up, I see Mason in formal attire that fits him perfectly.

I completely agree with that.

What am I thinking? I shouldn't look at Mason through the eyes of a woman. He will be my husband and friend for three years, nothing more.

"Sure, whatever you say."

I need to stop listening to my damn conscience. It's not healthy, and it won't be as long as I'm married to Mason.

"Take the smallest one I have," he says, smiling and handing me a change of clothes.

"Thank you so much, I really appreciate it. And regarding the agreement, I'll sign it, I agree with everything. But I want to know, if I come up with something in the future, can I add it?" I ask, timidly, like a little girl.

"Of course, you can add whatever you want. Besides, the idea is for us to be friends and not need to write everything down to understand each other," he responds.

I take the sheet and sign it. When I finish, I sigh and tell myself, "There's no turning back now." I close my eyes for a moment, giving Mason a smile to show him that everything is fine.

Afterward, he bids me farewell, explaining that he needs to sign some papers and that they will bring clothes in my size while I have breakfast. He takes care of it. I thank him and focus on eating. I'm not very fond of sweets, but I have a bit of fruit and drink milk, just like every morning at home.

After breakfast, I dress in the clothes that Mason had sent for me. I must say, I was surprised to see everything new. I thought someone would come to my house to fetch clothes for me.

I leave with doubts about going home. The truth is, I'm so upset with my father that I don't want to see him, at least for now. I'm focused on that when I get startled by my vibrating phone in my pocket.

"You don't have to go home. You can stay for as long as you want."

It's from an unknown number, but when I see the profile picture, I realize it's Mason. How did he get my phone number?

"How do you have my number?"

"I won't tell you, but I'm staying at the hotel to avoid seeing mine. I understand if you want to stay."

I think about it, and he's right. I don't want to go home. I don't have anyone I trust enough to go to and explain what I'm going through. Mason is the only one who can understand this.

"Thank you, the truth is, I don't want to go home."

He doesn't respond, and I put my phone away, staring at the ceiling. I don't know what to do. My classes don't start for a few more days, so I have nothing to pass the time.

I turn on the television, but I quickly get frustrated because nothing interests me. My mind starts to wander, reminiscing about my hobbies as if it had been ages since I was happy, living with my parents, unaware of what I would have to face.

I remember that I enjoy running and doing yoga. Maybe that's what I need right now. I call reception and request a yoga mat to use on the floor. It arrives quickly, and I put on some relaxing music, letting go of everything else. Yoga is always good for me.

I don't know how long I've been at it, but I feel much better.

"You're really good at yoga," someone says, causing me to lose control and end up sitting on the floor. I give them a death glare, but Mason wisely raises his hands in surrender.

I shake my head, and he clears his throat nervously. I don't understand why he's nervous.

"Well, I have an important dinner tonight, and they asked me to bring my fiancée along because his wife gets bored at these business dinners. Do you think you can come with me?" he asks anxiously.

"I don't mind. Just help me up, and I'll have to go home to get a dress. Or is it a casual event?" I ask as he extends his hand to help me up.

"It's casual, but I can arrange for more clothes for you," he says as if it's an easy task.

"I don't want to owe you. I'd rather go to my parents' house and get some clothes," I say nervously.

"Alright, we can go right away so you have time to get ready without rushing," he says, taking my hand and leading me out of the suite.

I think he's getting used to holding my hand. It's not that I mind, and it's actually a good way for us to appear in love. What better way than to walk hand in hand everywhere we go, right?

Chapter 04: Getting to Know Mason, Part 1

We arrive at home, and I feel a knot in my stomach, partly from nerves. It's ridiculous because they should be the ones feeling nervous about my presence. They are the ones who forced me to marry someone I don't know, all for their damn company. If I were a bad daughter, I would forget everything and refuse the agreement, but it wouldn't be fair for me to give up my studies for this. Besides, I have Mason's support.

The door is opened by the housekeeper, as my mother is incapable of doing anything in the household.

She greets me with a smile on her face, and upon seeing Mason, she blushes. Well, anyone would upon seeing such a handsome man.

"Good afternoon. The adults are in the dining room," she informs us.

We both enter the house, Mason still holding my hand, and honestly, I don't mind at all. As I see my parents calmly eating, I become even more annoyed than I already was. How is it possible that they aren't even a little concerned about me? They only care about money. I think I was blind not to realize that, despite my father's displays of affection, I never surpassed the company in importance. It has always been the most important thing to him, and for my mother, there isn't even a need to ask the question. The answer is obvious.

They greet us when they see us arrive. My mother's face lights up at the sight of me next to Mason, and I roll my eyes at this fact.

"Mason, my dear, it's so good to see you again. Would you like to eat with us?" my mother says, forgetting that I'm right here.

"Thank you, but I've already eaten. We came for clothes for Paige. We have a meeting, and I want her to stay with me for a few days, so we can get to know each other better. Would that be alright with you?" Mason responds politely.

"Oh, of course. I'll go and make sure that Paige has the necessary clothes for each outing and meeting you have. You should make a good impression with your partners and friends, considering the fiancée you have," my mother replies, smiling and taking hold of my arm.

I quickly pull my arm away from her grip, which earns me an annoyed look.

"I can handle it on my own, Mother. I won't take long," I say, looking at Mason.

I turn around and head straight to my room to gather a few outfits for the days I'll be away from my beloved parents, note the sarcasm. With my clothes ready, I come back downstairs with a small suitcase.

I find my father alone with Mason. I don't even bother asking about my mother. I look at Mason and say, "I'm ready," smiling as he gets up to fetch my suitcase.

"It was a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Harper," Mason says with a smile.

"Just William, soon we'll be family, no need for formality," my father replies, smiling.

They shake hands, and my father approaches me. I give him a brief hug, less than 5 seconds, and then step back. I see the hurt on my father's face due to my cold gesture, but I won't change my attitude for his sake. He has no idea about the pain I'm feeling having to marry Mason.

We make our way to the exit, but my mother stops us at the door. I sigh, not looking forward to seeing her again. I have no desire to be in this house right now.

"Darling, aren't you going to say goodbye?" she says, placing a hand over.