“Ryot, I don’t want to get into this,” I say as I lie back down on the couch and clutch the throw pillow that’s propped my head up.

“Don’t worry, we won’t be getting into much,” he says, his voice distant and edgy. A voice I’ve only heard him use maybe a few times since we’ve been together.

He sits on a chair across from the couch and rests his arms on his legs. When our eyes connect, I see . . . nothing. No emotion. He’s completely expressionless. I’m not looking to hurt him or for him to be hurt. I’m not that type of person. Just because you’ve hurt me doesn’t mean that I’m going to retaliate.

“I’m not signing the papers . . .” he starts, which of course makes me sit up. Before I can say anything, he holds his hand out to stop me. “Yet,” he finishes.

“What do you mean you’re not signing them yet?”

“I have a stipulation.” He rubs his hands together, and I can see he’s thought about this. That’s Ryot, though. He always puts thought into his big decisions, even if it doesn’t include me.

I cross my arms. “Okay, what’s your stipulation?”

“JP and Kelsey are getting married in three weeks. We are obviously invited to the wedding, and I don’t want to stir any drama before or during their wedding, so I’m proposing that you go to the wedding with me, pretend everything is fucking great between us, and then after that, we go our separate ways. I’ll sign the papers, and you can do whatever the hell you want.”

“You want me to go to the wedding and act like everything is fine? How is that helpful to you?”

“It’s not for me, Myla,” he says through clenched teeth. “It’s for my friend who has done a lot for me. If you don’t show up to the wedding, they’ll wonder why. I don’t want to pull the attention away from them. So if you agree to act like everything is fine, then I’ll sign your papers, no questions asked, and give you what you want.”

“And what do we do until the wedding?”

“Whatever the hell we want,” he answers. “If you want me to sleep in the guest room, I’ll sleep in the guest room. If you want me to find my own place, I can do that too. I’ll be discreet about it, but when we’re here, at home, we don’t need to act like everything is fine. We can even lay out ground rules and become roommates who don’t talk. I don’t give a fuck. I just need you to go to the wedding with me, and then after that, you can do whatever the hell you want with your life, Myla.”

“You don’t have to sound so rude about it,” I say.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want me to roll out the red carpet and pamper you while I told you my plan? Should I try again?”