The magnitude of Ivan’s proposal continues to weigh heavily on my mind as I sit in my apartment staring blankly at the wall.
Several hours of introspection have brought me no closer to a decision. The thought of being locked in a marriage with Ivan for a minimum of twenty years is terrifying. I might have a husband and a child, but I would not have love.
In a desperate attempt to replace a silver lining, I imagine my life as the kind of romcom it’s starting to resemble. Maybe Ivan and I will fall in love once we’re married and building a fake life together.
Who am I kidding? I dismiss the thought almost as soon as it forms. Ivan is all business, through and through. His world revolves around deals, negotiations, and cold, hard logic. Feelings and human emotions don’t seem to have a place in his life. He’s a man driven by ambition and professionalism, not romance.
But then I remember last night. That moment in his office, how close he stepped to me with that peculiarly profound look in his eyes. There was a hint of something more than just lust. Maybe. Or maybe it was just lust… Either way, lust isn’t love. It’s a fleeting, physical reaction, not the foundation for a lifelong commitment.
My mind spins, tangled in a web of what-ifs and maybes. The more I think about it, the more I realize there’s only one person who can help me sort through this mess and that’s my Aunt Barb, the woman who raised me after my father killed my mother.
I need her perspective, her wisdom. She’s always had a way of cutting through the noise, of helping me see the heart of the matter. And right now, I need that clarity more than ever.
Reaching for my phone, I dial her number—texting got me in trouble last time. My heart feels heavy with the gravity of the decision before me. This isn’t just about a job or a career move. It’s about my life, my future, and potentially, the creation of a new family.
We meet at Murray’s—our favorite deli—a cozy spot that’s seen many of our heart-to-hearts over the years. Barb, with her free-spirited aura and artist’s sensibility, is the polar opposite of me. She’s my mom’s twin sister, but you’d never guess we were related from our personalities.
Her hair is a wild mane of curls, and she’s wearing a flowy, bohemian dress that looks like one of her canvases come to life.
Barb can always tell when something’s up with me, and today’s no different. She eyes me with a knowing look as she sips her coffee.
‘Spill it, Jules. You never miss work. What’s got you so antsy?’
God, where to begin?
I recount the tale of the accidentally erotic message left for Ivan, watching Barb’s reaction closely. And then I follow up with his… reply.
At first, her eyebrows rise in surprise, a hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of mock horror. But as the story unfolds, her expression shifts. The corners of her eyes crinkle with amusement, and soon, she’s laughing, a deep, hearty laugh that fills the deli. Her laughter is infectious, spreading warmth and lightness, transforming my embarrassment into something almost bearable.
‘It sounds like it could be a scene from one of these popular shows currently streaming, Jules!’ Barb exclaims, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. It’s one of the things I love most about her; her knack for turning life’s awkward moments into anecdotes to be laughed at over coffee.
Emboldened by her reaction, I delve into the heavier part of my story.
‘But that’s not all,’ I say, and I watch as Barb’s expression sobers, her artist’s eyes sharpening with interest. She leans in, her bracelets jangling softly, signaling her full attention.
I tell her about Ivan’s proposal, his unexpected offer of marriage and funding for my nonprofit. I detail the terms, the prenup, and his cool, business-like approach to the whole thing.
‘Honey, that’s… quite a proposition,’ she finally says.
As she digests the information, I can see the wheels turning in her head. Barb’s always had a gift for seeing the bigger picture, for understanding the artistry in life’s chaos.
‘It’s a lot to think about,’ she adds before her eyebrows shoot up, as if something’s just occurred to her. ‘To be honest, it sounds like he’s trying to buy you, honey.”
I nod, my fork playing with the salad on my plate. ‘I know, right? That’s exactly what I thought. But the idea of getting my nonprofit off the ground, doing something good with his money… I have to admit it’s tempting.’
Barb leans back in her chair, studying me like I’m one of her paintings. ‘But at what cost, Julie? You’re talking about marriage, kids, a whole life with a man who sees this as a transaction.’
I sigh, feeling the weight of her words. ‘I know, I know. It’s just that this could be a chance to make a real difference, to honor Mom’s memory in a big way.’
We sit in silence for a moment, the deli bustling around us. Barb’s always been the one to encourage my dreams, to push me to pursue my passions. But this is different. This is about the rest of my life, about bringing another human into the world.
She reaches across the table, her hand covering mine. ‘Whatever you decide, Jules, make sure it’s what you truly want, not just what’s convenient or tempting.’
I nod, her words sinking in.
‘Jules, your need to start this nonprofit, to honor your mother, it’s noble. She would be so proud of you. But’ she pauses, choosing her words carefully, ‘are you going to be okay being in a loveless marriage? A marriage where the only expectation of you is to have a child?’
Her question hangs in the air between us. It’s the heart of the matter, the crux of my dilemma. I open my mouth to respond, but words fail me. The truth is, I don’t know if I’m okay with it. The idea of a loveless marriage, a relationship built on convenience and business, goes against everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
‘I don’t know,’ I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
Barb gives me a sympathetic smile, then stands up. ‘I’m going to the restroom. Sit with your thoughts for a minute.’
Left alone, I try to imagine what my life with Ivan would look like. There would be the obvious logistics of the arrangement concerning the marriage, the child. And then there’s the fact that we’d have to have sex for me to get pregnant. Unsurprisingly, that thought doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, the idea of being intimate with Ivan sends a thrill through me. He’s undeniably sexy, a man of intensity and passion, and I have no doubts he’d be a good lover. And after that insane foreplay, Lord knows I’m dying to get the full treatment from this man.
The mutual attraction is undeniable. I’ve seen the way he looks at me, the brief flashes of desire in his eyes long before he showed up at my door. It’s more than just professional interest.
The thought of being close to him, of sharing a physical intimacy that would result in a new life being brought into this world, is strangely exciting. It’s a far cry from the romantic, love-filled relationship I’ve always imagined and dreamed about, but there’s an undeniable pull, a chemistry between the two of us that can’t be ignored. It’s damn near palpable. I still quiver from his touch.
But is chemistry enough? Is the promise of financial stability and the opportunity to start my nonprofit worth the trade-off of a marriage without love?
These are the questions swirling in my mind as I sit in the deli, my salad untouched, my coffee growing cold. It’s a decision that’s about more than just practicality or passion; it’s about what I want my life to be, what I value, and what I’m willing to sacrifice.
As I wait for Barb to return, I realize that this decision isn’t just about choosing a path; it’s about defining who I am and what I stand for. And that’s a choice that requires more than just logic or desire. It requires a deep understanding of myself and my dreams.
By the time my aunt returns, I’ve worked myself into a state that’s half-determination, half-delirium. She slides back into her seat, eyeing me with curiosity.
“OK, thoughts?” She grins and leans in.
“What about the day-to-day stuff?” I blurt out, my tone one of exasperation. “Will we spend our evenings together like a real married couple? Go on dates, take trips? Or will it be more like, ‘Hey, honey, I’m off to run a multinational corporation, see you at the next board meeting.’”
Barb chuckles, clearly amused by my dramatic rendition. “You do have a way with words, Jules.”
I lean back in my chair, my mind racing. “He’s all business, Aunt Barb. I mean, the man could probably turn a romantic dinner into a shareholders’ meeting.”
“What about last night?”
“It may have been no more than a slip,” I say, probably lying to myself. If I’m to do this marriage thing, taking our intimacy too deep might be trouble in the long run. If I convince myself that this is strictly business, I could actually do it. I think. “I really believe he just wants me to pop out a kid and help him raise it, and that will be the extent of our dealings with one another.’
Barb nods, her expression thoughtful. ‘But is that enough for you? That’s the real question.”
I pause, considering it again. ‘If it means I can start my nonprofit years sooner, helping women and children escape abusive situations, I think I can handle playing house with Ivan Stepanov.’
Barb raises an eyebrow, a silent question hanging in the air.
I throw my hands up, a mock gesture of surrender. ‘Fine, I’ll admit that there’s something about him. But,’ I add quickly, ‘that’s not why I’m considering it. It’s about the nonprofit, the good I can do.’
Barb smiles, a glint of pride in her eyes. ‘You always were one to make sacrifices for the greater good.’
I take a deep breath, feeling like I’m teetering on the edge of the biggest decision of my life.
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