Chloe's Point of View
The office was buzzing with the morning rush as I headed toward Jonathan's private kitchen. Not many days were allowed for this kind of norm, this kind of personal stuff for him. I had spent a good part of the morning making my own lunch-home-made that was simple yet thoughtful. I didn't know how he'd react, but, on the surface, I was compelled to bond. We had to convince that board more than ever that we were a real couple, and that was the only way I knew to do so.
I finished gathering up the food, beating back a racing heart as I wiped my hands on a towel. Today, I made sure to take more care than usual: ironing my blouse, re-tying my hair, applying a touch of makeup. All part of the act, but somehow inside me, deep down, I couldn't help but want Jonathan to notice-not just as his contract wife, but as a person who cared.
