She didn't want the vows. He didn't want a stranger in his space. But expectations signed the contract before either of them could say no. Now she's counting how many times he leaves the lights on. He's memorizing the way she stirs her tea. Their lives are tangled in spreadsheets, side glances, and things neither of them will admit out loud. It wasn't supposed to be this complicated. Not when they were only meant to survive it. But the line between forced and chosen blurs more with every quiet night spent under the same roof.
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