Harriet gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning to leave the office. As the door closed behind her, Liam let out a long, shaky breath. The tears had dried on his cheeks, leaving only the hollow ache of loss behind.
He stared at the empty space where Fiona's desk had been, a bitter resolve hardening in his chest. "I'm done with love," he muttered to himself, the words like iron in his mouth. "I'll marry, but only to fulfill my duty and nothing more."
His mind began to churn, formulating a plan. Whoever his mother brought to him, he would offer them a contract, a marriage of convenience, nothing more.
She would be his wife, bear him a child, and after five years, they would separate and if she wished to remain his wife, she could, but there would be no more illusions of love. No more lies.
