She sat up slightly, her honey-brown eyes widening with conflict. Her naive heart wanted to say yes, but the contract marriage loomed like a shadow—the one-year deal, born from necessity, not love. "Rafael, I... I'm not ready. This is all so fast. And besides, we're in a contract. It's not like we're truly married in that way. Sharing a room... it wouldn't be proper. I need time."
His face flickered with hurt, a sharp pang in his eyes that he quickly masked with a sardonic smile. Inside, it stung—the reminder that she still saw barriers where he saw forever. But he was a puppet master at heart; he wouldn't push. "Fair enough," he said lightly, though his voice carried a hidden ache. "No pressure. But don't think you've escaped my company entirely."
