She hung up before Tyler could respond, her hands shaking slightly. Rebecca was staring at her with a mixture of pride and concern.
“Good for you,” Rebecca said softly. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
Sophia looked at James Crawford’s business card, still sitting on the coffee table where she had left it the night before. “I’m going to call him,” she said.
“Sophia…”
“I’m going to hear him out properly,” Sophia continued. “If I’m going to make a decision this big, I need to understand exactly what I’m agreeing to.”
An hour later, Sophia sat across from James Crawford in his downtown office. In the bright light of day, he was even more handsome than she remembered, but there was also something solid and dependable about him that she found reassuring.
“I’m glad you called,” James said, offering her tea or coffee. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
“I almost didn’t,” Sophia admitted. “My friend thinks I’m crazy for even considering this.”
“She’s probably right to be concerned,” James said honestly. “It’s an unusual arrangement. But I think it could work for both of us if we set clear boundaries and expectations.”
“What exactly would you expect from me?” Sophia asked.
James leaned back in his chair, his expression business-like but kind. “I attend a lot of business dinners, charity events, and social functions. I need someone who can handle those situations with grace and intelligence. You would be my wife in public, but we would maintain separate private lives.”
“Separate bedrooms?” Sophia asked, feeling her cheeks flush slightly.
“Absolutely. This would be a marriage of convenience, not a romantic relationship. We would be partners, friends hopefully, but nothing more unless we both decided otherwise.”
“And how long would this arrangement last?”
“We could start with a year,” James suggested. “That would give you time to get back on your feet, figure out what you want to do with your life. If it’s working for both of us after a year, we could extend it.”
Sophia considered this. “What about money? I can’t contribute financially.”
“You wouldn’t need to,” James interrupted. “I would provide for all your needs—housing, clothing, anything you require. In return, you would fulfill the social obligations that come with being my wife.”
“This feels very one-sided,” Sophia said. “What do you really get out of this?”
James was quiet for a moment, then smiled sadly. “Honestly? Companionship. My life has become very lonely, Sophia. I work constantly, I don’t trust easily anymore after what happened with my former partner, and I don’t have time for traditional dating. This arrangement would give us both what we need without the complications of romance.”
There was something in his voice that touched Sophia’s heart. Here was a successful, handsome man who seemed to have everything, but who was just as lonely as she was.
“If I agreed to this,” she said slowly, “when would we do it?”
“As soon as possible,” James replied. “A small, private ceremony. Nothing like the wedding you planned before—I understand that would be too painful. Just a legal formality.”
Sophia thought about Tyler’s phone call that morning, about his assumption that she would just take him back after what he had done. She thought about the pitying looks from the wedding guests, about starting over with nothing, about being dependent on her friends and family for help.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
James blinked, as if he hadn’t expected her to agree. “Okay?”
“Yes,” Sophia said, feeling more certain with each word. “I’ll marry you, James Crawford. But I have one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“If either of us falls in love with someone else or wants out of the arrangement for any reason, we end it cleanly and honestly. No running away, no disappearing. We talk to each other.”
James smiled, and Sophia realized it was the first genuine smile she had seen from him. “I think I can promise you that.”
Two weeks later, Sophia stood in the foyer of James Crawford’s mansion, trying not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer size and elegance of what was now supposed to be her home. The wedding had been exactly as promised—small, simple, and purely legal. Only Rebecca and James’s assistant had served as witnesses at the courthouse ceremony.
“Your room is upstairs, second door on the right,” James said, carrying her single suitcase. “I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
The room he showed her was larger than Rebecca’s entire apartment, with a king-sized bed, a sitting area, and windows that overlooked a beautifully manicured garden. There was even a walk-in closet that was currently empty except for the few clothes she had managed to retrieve from the apartment she had shared with Tyler.
“It’s beautiful,” Sophia said honestly, “but I feel like I’m imposing.”
“You’re not imposing,” James assured her. “You’re fulfilling your part of our agreement. Speaking of which, we have our first test this Saturday night.”
“What kind of test?”
“The Hartman Foundation Charity Gala. It’s one of the biggest social events of the year, and several of my most important clients will be there.” James looked slightly apologetic. “I know it’s asking a lot for your first public appearance as my wife, but…”
“It’s fine,” Sophia interrupted. “That’s why I’m here, right?”
Over the next few days, Sophia tried to settle into her new life. The house was beautiful but felt enormous and empty. James left early for work each morning and often didn’t return until well into the evening. When they did see each other, their conversations were polite but careful, both of them still trying to figure out the boundaries of their unusual relationship.
On Thursday, James surprised her by coming home early with shopping bags. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, looking slightly embarrassed. “I bought you a dress for Saturday night. I wasn’t sure about the size, but I can return it if it doesn’t fit.”
Sophia opened the bag to find an elegant midnight-blue gown that was exactly her size. The style was sophisticated but not too revealing, and the color would complement her skin tone perfectly.
“How did you know my size?” she asked.
James’s cheeks reddened slightly. “I may have asked Rebecca. I hope that’s okay.”
The thoughtfulness of the gesture touched Sophia more than she expected. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
Saturday evening arrived faster than Sophia had anticipated. She spent an hour getting ready, styling her hair and applying makeup with more care than she had taken with anything since her abandoned wedding day. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a woman who appeared confident and elegant, even if she didn’t feel that way inside.
James was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo. When he saw her, his expression changed to something that looked almost like surprise.
“You look stunning,” he said quietly.
“Thank you,” Sophia replied, smoothing her dress nervously. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
In the car on the way to the gala, James briefed her on the key people they would be meeting. “The Hartmans are old money, very traditional. Mrs. Hartman especially values family and stability in the people she does business with. Richard Torres is there—he’s considering a major contract with my company, but he’s been hesitant because he thinks I’m not settled enough.”
“No pressure at all,” Sophia said dryly, and was pleased when James laughed.
“Just be yourself,” he said. “That’s all I need.”
The gala was held at the city’s most exclusive hotel, with hundreds of elegantly dressed guests mingling in a ballroom that sparkled with crystal chandeliers. Sophia felt a moment of panic as they entered, wondering if she was really ready for this. Then James offered her his arm, and something about his steady presence calmed her nerves.
“Mr. Crawford,” a distinguished older woman approached them, her eyes bright with curiosity. “How wonderful to see you. And this must be your wife.”
“Mrs. Hartman, I’d like you to meet Sophia,” James said smoothly. “Sophia, this is Eleanor Hartman.”
“It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” Sophia said, extending her hand with a smile she hoped looked genuine.
“The pleasure is mine, dear,” Mrs. Hartman replied, studying Sophia with sharp but kind eyes. “James has been so secretive about his personal life. Tell me, how did you two meet?”
Sophia felt a moment of panic—they hadn’t discussed their cover story in detail. But James stepped in smoothly.
“We met during a difficult time in Sophia’s life,” he said, his voice warm. “I was immediately struck by her strength and grace under pressure.”
It wasn’t technically a lie, Sophia realized. And something about the way James said it, with genuine admiration in his voice, made her feel a little less like she was playing a role.
The evening progressed better than Sophia had dared to hope. She found that the social skills she had developed in her previous job served her well in making conversation with James’s business associates and their wives. She was genuinely interested in hearing about the charity work many of them were involved in, and several people complimented James on his choice of wife.
“You’re a natural at this,” James murmured during a quiet moment as they watched couples dancing.
“I’m just being polite,” Sophia replied. “But thank you. Everyone has been very welcoming.”
“Richard Torres seems particularly impressed,” James noted, nodding toward a man who had spent a significant portion of the evening talking with them. “I think this contract might actually happen.”
As if summoned by their conversation, Torres approached them again. “James, Sophia, I hope you’re enjoying the evening,” he said warmly. “I wanted to tell you both how refreshing it is to meet a couple who clearly brings out the best in each other.”
Sophia felt a flutter of something—pride, maybe, or satisfaction at playing her role well.
“Sophia keeps me grounded,” James said, and again, there was something in his voice that sounded genuine rather than rehearsed.
Later, as they drove home in comfortable silence, Sophia reflected on the evening. She had expected to feel like a fraud, pretending to be something she wasn’t. Instead, she had felt useful, needed, even appreciated.
“Thank you,” James said as they pulled into his driveway. “You were perfect tonight.”
“It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” Sophia admitted. “Your colleagues are nice people.”
“They are. And they clearly adore you.” James paused, then added quietly, “I can see why.”
Something in his tone made Sophia look at him more carefully, but his expression was unreadable in the dim light of the car.
“Goodnight, James,” she said softly.
“Goodnight, Sophia.”
As she got ready for bed that night, Sophia found herself thinking about the evening with a sense of accomplishment she hadn’t felt in weeks. For the first time since Tyler had abandoned her, she felt like she had value, like she was contributing something meaningful to someone’s life. It was a good feeling. Maybe this arrangement would work out better than either of them had expected.
Three weeks into their marriage, Sophia woke up feeling terrible. Her head was pounding, her throat was raw, and every muscle in her body ached. She had caught some kind of flu bug, and it was hitting her hard. She managed to drag herself downstairs to make coffee, hoping the caffeine would help, but even the smell made her feel nauseous.
James found her sitting at the kitchen island with her head in her hands. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice immediately filled with concern.
“Just a little under the weather,” Sophia said, though her voice came out as barely a whisper. “I’ll be fine.”
James studied her face, taking in her pale complexion and the way she was clearly struggling to stay upright. “You look awful. No offense.”
“None taken,” Sophia croaked. “I feel awful.”
“Have you taken your temperature?” James asked, already moving toward the kitchen cabinet where he apparently kept a thermometer.
“It’s just a cold,” Sophia protested weakly, but she allowed him to check her temperature anyway.
“102.3,” James read from the digital display, his frown deepening. “That’s not just a cold, Sophia. You need to be in bed.”
“I can take care of myself,” Sophia said, though the effort of speaking was exhausting.
“I’m sure you can,” James replied gently, “but you don’t have to.”
Before Sophia could protest further, James had scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her back upstairs to her room. Under normal circumstances, she would have been mortified by the intimate gesture, but she felt too sick to care. He settled her back into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.
“I’m calling my doctor,” he said.
“That’s not necessary.”
“Sophia, you have a high fever, and you can barely speak. It’s necessary.” James’s tone was firm but kind. “Dr. Mitchell makes house calls. She’ll be here within the hour.”
True to his word, Dr. Mitchell arrived shortly after and confirmed that Sophia had contracted a particularly nasty strain of the flu. She prescribed rest, fluids, and medication for the fever and body aches.
“She’ll need someone to check on her regularly,” Dr. Mitchell told James as they stood outside Sophia’s room. “The fever needs to be monitored, and she should be encouraged to drink fluids even if she doesn’t feel like it.”
“I’ll take care of her,” James said without hesitation.
After the doctor left, James returned to Sophia’s room with a glass of water and the prescribed medication. “The doctor said you need to take these every four hours,” he said, helping her sit up enough to swallow the pills.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” Sophia said weakly. “Don’t you have to work?”
“Work can wait,” James replied, adjusting her pillows. “You’re my wife, Sophia. Taking care of you when you’re sick isn’t babysitting; it’s what husbands do.”
The word wife sent a strange flutter through Sophia’s chest, though she attributed it to the fever. This was supposed to be a business arrangement, but James was treating her like she was someone he actually cared about. Throughout the day, James checked on her every few hours, bringing her water, soup, and fresh fruit. He took her temperature regularly and made sure she was taking her medication on schedule. When she complained that she was too hot, he brought her a cool cloth for her forehead. When she got chills, he added an extra blanket.