Chapter 29 - Lucy
I wake up before my alarm. It isn’t the kind of wake-up where you stretch and blink and feel slow and human. It’s the kind where your eyes snap open and your body is already braced, like it knows what’s coming even if your mind tries to pretend it doesn’t.
For a moment I lie there, staring at the faint line of light under my bedroom door, listening.
No coughing from Mom’s room because she isn’t here.
No creak of the couch because Emily isn’t asleep out there today.
Just quiet.
A rare, clean kind of quiet that should feel like relief.
Instead, it feels like a pause right before impact.
My phone buzzes.
Emily: Coffee’s ready. Come sit with me.
I stare at the message until the words blur slightly, then I force myself upright, feet to the floor, breath in, breath out.
This is just a day.
Just a Friday.
Just… paperwork.
The lie tastes bitter in my mouth.
Emily is on the couch with her knees pulled up, wrapped in one of Mom’s old blankets like she’s trying to protect herself from the world. The state of her hair says she didn’t sleep well, and her eyes are too alert for this early.
She hands me a mug without a word.
It’s my coffee. Exactly the way I like it.
I take it in both hands and sit beside her, letting the heat sink into my palms.
We sit like that for a long moment, the only sound the faint hum of the fridge.
Emily’s voice comes quiet. “You don’t have to do this today.”
I close my eyes.
I do. “I know.”
“But you’re going to,” she says, not accusing. Just naming truth like we’ve always had to do for each other.
I nod once.
She blows out a breath and stares into her own mug like she’s reading the future in it.
“I can skip class,” she offers again. “I’ll go with you. You should have someone with you.”
“No.” My voice is firmer than I feel. “You need to go. You need to keep being… you. Medical school Emily. Future doctor Emily. The version of our family that’s moving forward.”
Emily’s brown eyes, which are usually so warm, hardened. “And you need to be what? Mrs. Billionaire?”
I flinch.
She immediately softens, reaching out to squeeze my knee. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be a bitch. I’m just… scared. I was all for this in theory. But now... After seeing the contract. I just became real... so real and it feels like you are giving so much of yourself.”
“I’m scared too,” I whisper.
That cracks something open in her face, like she’s been holding it all morning. She leans her head against my shoulder.
“You look like you might throw up,” she murmurs.
I huff a small laugh, breath shaking. “I might.”
“Okay,” Emily says, sitting up like she’s switching into emergency mode. “Then we do what we do. We make a plan. We eat something. We breathe through the spiral. And we don’t let you walk into that building like you’re alone.”
“I’m not alone,” I say, but the person I mean isn’t Julian.
It’s her. It's mom.
My why.
I slip into a sweater dress in muted blue that feels like something I’d choose even if Julian North didn’t exist. Heels and earrings I’ve worn a hundred times for events. The only luxury on me is the coat Julian sent, because it’s Chicago and it’s fall and I’m not going to freeze out of principle.
Emily watches from the doorway, arms crossed.
“You’re not dressing up,” she says, surprised.
“I can’t,” I answer, smoothing the fabric at my waist. “If I put on a costume, I’ll start acting. And I don’t want to act.”
Emily’s mouth twitches. “Good. Because if he’s marrying you, he gets you. Not some polished version he can parade around.”
I glance at her. “You’re really okay with this?”
Her eyes sharpen. “No.”
Then gentler. “But I understand why. And I trust you. And I trust that if he ever makes you feel less than you, I will personally end him.”
A laugh escapes me, sudden and wet.
Emily leans in and presses her forehead to mine. “Text me the second you’re done.”
“I will.”
“And Lucy?”
“Yeah?”
Her voice drops. “I love you if you do this and I love you if you don't.”
My stomach twists.
I nod. “I know.”
I stop at the inpatient facility on my way downtown.
Mom is resting, the nurse says. She is stable and had a good morning. The words are cautious, careful, not promises.
I sit beside her bed and take her hand. She opens her eyes slowly and smiles like she’s trying to give me something.
“You look pretty,” she whispers.
The tears I have been holding back beg to be released. “Hey, Mom. How are you feeling?”
She watches me. Really watches me, not the dress, not my hair. My face. My eyes.
“Are you going to see Julian?” she asks quietly.
“Yeah.”
She gives a contented hum. “He’s… been around.”
I can’t say it. I cannot ever let my mom know the truth. She would be hurt and furious, she would try to fight it and I...
So I lie the way I’ve been lying for weeks, gentle, protective, desperate.
“We’ve been… seeing each other,” I say. “Just quietly.”
Her eyes soften, like the idea soothes something inside her. Like, she can stop worrying about me for five seconds.
“Oh,” she breathes. “Well… I’m glad someone is looking after you.”
The guilt hits like a physical thing.
I squeeze her hand carefully. “I’ll let you get some rest.”
She nods, already fading back into sleep.
As I stand, I have to brace my palm against the bedrail for a second because my legs feel… wrong. Like they belong to someone else.
When I step off the elevator on Julian’s floor, Claire is there waiting.
She looks immaculate as always, but her expression is… open. Almost kind.
“Lucy,” she says, and there’s something in her tone that makes my heart race. “He’s ready for you.”
My mouth goes dry. “Okay.”
Claire takes my coat, and as she does, she leans in slightly.
“If you need a moment,” she murmurs, barely audible, “you tell me.”
I blink. “Thank you.”
She guides me down the hallway. Every step feels louder than it should and then we’re at Julian’s office.
Claire opens the door and my body freezes.
They’re all there.
Why are they all here for this?
Julian, behind his desk.
Elliot, leaning against the window like this is a business meeting and not the most important decision of my life.
Harper beside him, posture perfect, expression unreadable.
Rowan standing near the wall, arms crossed, watchful.
Caleb seated, quiet, eyes sharp.
And Theo… Theo perched on the edge of a chair like he’s too restless for this room.
All of them turn toward me.
The attention hits like a wave.
Julian stands.
He doesn’t smile, but his gaze holds mine like he’s trying to ground me in the middle of the storm.
“Lucy,” he says quietly.
My flight or fight instinct is urging me to run, but I step inside anyway.
Julian crosses the room, takes the coat Claire handed him, and hangs it himself. It’s a small thing. But it feels… personal, intentional.
Then he guides me toward a table where documents are already laid out.
Like my life is a file that’s been prepared.
I scan the crowd again and am met with a mix of expressions.
What do they think about this? About me?
“Sit,” Julian says.
So I do.
He sits beside me, not touching, but close enough that I can feel the heat coming off his body, close enough that I catch his scent, clean, expensive, something warm underneath the sharpness, and it makes my stomach flip with the worst kind of confusion.
I pick up the contract.
My eyes skim the first page even though I already know what’s in it.
Because reading it again is the only way I can keep from feeling the room watching me like a courtroom.
I see my edits.
My red lines.
The removed sections.
The money bonuses gone, the clause I demanded be stripped because I refused to become a reward system. No “per year after three.” No “per child.”
The housing section clarified.
The exit clause: mutual agreement only, except for breaches.
The fidelity clause: explicit. For both of us.
The bed clause: written so bluntly that it makes my cheeks heat. It's not romantic, not tender, just… contractual.
I swallow and keep reading.
Julian’s voice is low beside me. “Any additional changes?”
I glance at him, then back down. “No.”
Theo shifts and I feel his eyes on me, like he wants to say something and doesn’t know how.
Julian signs first.
No hesitation. No pause.
His signature is clean. Confident.
Then he slides the pen toward me.
My hands shake.
I make myself pick it up anyway.
I sign.
The second my name hits the page, it feels like a door has closed behind me.
I set the pen down carefully and force myself to breathe.
No one speaks for a beat.
Then Theo’s voice breaks the silence, quiet and uncertain.
“Lu…?” he says, like he’s asking if I’m okay without daring to ask.
I don’t look at him. If I look at Theo, I might crack.
Instead, I keep my eyes on the contract and say, “I’m fine.”
Julian’s gaze shifts to Theo in warning.
Theo shuts his mouth.
Claire enters again, but this time she isn’t alone.
A man in a dark suit follows her, carrying a folder with the same calm energy as a banker or a funeral director.
Julian stands in greeting.
“This is Mr. Hayes,” he says, voice steady. “He’ll be officiating.”
My brain stutters.
Officiating.
My stomach drops so hard I feel it in my throat.
“Today?” I whisper, staring at Julian. “Here?”
He meets my eyes without flinching.
“Yes.”
My pulse spikes. I push back my chair slightly, not standing, but needing space.
“This...” I swallow. “This wasn’t...”
“What did you expect?” Julian asks quietly.
The words aren’t cruel. But they deliver like a slap.
Theo’s chair scrapes as he shifts forward sharply. “Julian...”
My vision blurs for half a second, blood roars in my ears.
I close my eyes.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
My hands curl into fists in my lap because I can’t let them shake in front of all these men.
And all I can think is: Of course.
Of course he’d do it like this.
No romance. No asking if I’m ready.
Just… execution.
Theo says my name again, sharper now. “Lucy.”
I open my eyes.
Harper’s watching me with a look I don't understand.
Elliot’s expression is unreadable, not amused, not cold, just… attentive.
Rowan’s gaze is fixed on Julian like he’s waiting to see what kind of man he is.
Caleb looks like he’s about to stand up and say something that will start a war.
And Julian is watching me.
Not impatient.
Not smug.
Just… steady.
Like he’s giving me the choice to walk out.
The room is spinning, but the truth is simple:
I can’t walk out.
Not now.
Not when my mother is in a facility I couldn’t afford on my own and my sister is trying to hold her life together with duct tape and caffeine.
So, I swallow the panic like I’ve swallowed everything else in my life.
And I say, voice quiet and controlled:
“Fine.”
Theo’s face changes instantly.
I close my eyes again, just for a second, and force the words out through clenched teeth:
“Let’s get it over with.”
Silence.
Then the officiant clears his throat gently. “If you’re ready…”
Caleb stands abruptly. “Julian... Outside. Now.”
Julian doesn’t even look at him. He keeps his eyes on me.
I hate that part of me notices that. Hates that part of me registers it as… focus.
The officiant opens the folder, and the words blur together at first.
They’re too simple for something this big.
I say I do when I’m supposed to, like the words belong to someone else.
Julian says his like it’s a statement, not a vow.
Then there’s paper.
A marriage license.
My hands are shaking again as I sign it.
And then...just like that...
I am someone’s wife.
No music.
No witnesses that feel safe.
No kiss.
Just ink.
Julian reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet ring box.
My breath catches as it opens.
A band and an engagement ring.
And then I realize... Julian is already wearing a wedding band.
The sight of it does something confusing to my heart.
Like he prepared for this.
Like he’s been living in this future while I’ve been trying not to drown in the present.
He takes my hand.
His fingers are warm and steady.
He slides the band on first and then the ring.
He’s so close now that the world narrows to the scent of him and the warmth of his breath and the electric awareness between us.
For one heartbeat, I think...
He’s going to kiss me.
His gaze drops to my mouth.
His hand still holds mine.
And then something shifts in his expression.
His jaw ticks, and he steps back.
His absence is colder than his presence ever was.
“I have a meeting,” he says.
The words feel unreal after what we just did. He has a meeting? Now?
He turns slightly. “Elliot. Harper.”
Elliot pushes off the window, smooth as ever, stepping forward like this is the part he knows how to do. Harper’s heels click as she moves, her smile polite and perfectly curated.
“Lucy, I am with a PR team that works with Northwell,” Harper says, voice calm. “We’re going to walk you through the narrative, what you say, what you don’t, and how we keep you protected.”
Protected.
From what?
From the world?
From Julian?
Elliot adds, quieter, “This isn’t about turning you into someone else. It’s about making sure everyone is on the same page.”
Harper opens a folder. “We’ll start with the timeline. How you met. How long you’ve been quietly seeing each other. Why you’re private.”
My stomach churns. Because my mother thinks I’m dating him.
Because now I have to make that lie into a public story.
I hear word like 'public displays of affection' and 'making it look legitimate'.
Then a copy of the agreement is slid in front of me as well as a copy of the PR folder.
Julian’s voice cuts in. “Claire will take you home to the penthouse when you’re ready.”
Home.
Not your apartment.
Home.
Claire steps forward, expression gentle. “Whenever you’re ready, Lucy.”
There’s no pressure in her tone.
Just… understanding.
I nod slowly, because my body can’t decide if it wants to run or collapse.
Julian looks at me again, just once, and something flickers behind his eyes.
I think he might say something, but then he turns away. And I’m left sitting at a table with a ring on my finger, ink drying on a marriage license, and a plan for my life laid out like a press kit.
Harper is still talking.
Elliot is already smoothing the edges.
Claire is waiting to walk me into a penthouse that i've never been to but is meant to be my home now.
And all I can think is:
This is real.
This is my life.
And I don’t know if I just saved my family…
Or signed away me.