I sift through the bouquets of flowers until I find a blooming, fragrant bunch of white lilies. I can’t be sure that Laura will like them, but I did see them as her laptop background photo, so I hope for the best and pay the vendor for them.

I hurry back to the hotel, hoping to make it there before Laura so I can surprise her. Bella is enjoying a playdate with a colleague’s daughter, with a nanny watching both at the hotel pool. Bella has adjusted surprisingly well to the changes and varied schedules that Laura and I have kept. I think it’s because Laura knows how to make each new place like home for Bella, with all the things that bring her comfort—her blanket, favorite toys, books, and foods. In fact, Laura knows how to do that for me too, although my comforts are far simpler. Everything has fallen in sync. As hard as it is to achieve any sense of normalcy on my own while traveling, we’ve managed to do it together.

Leaping over a puddle, I start whistling as I near the hotel. It’s raining, as it has been every day since we arrived in London, with no sign of letting up. It does nothing to dampen my mood, though. Everything is going so well, I want to go out and celebrate.

I also want to propose that we change the terms of the marriage and make things more permanent. While I expected that things would go well, I hadn’t anticipated that I would feel so good and so right. I know Bella feels the same, and I want to see if Laura is happy to keep things the way they are.

Once I’m inside, I call the nanny to check on Bella, and hang up, satisfied. The two girls are apparently splashing their way into an early bedtime, which is fine by me. I don’t have to wait long for Laura.

“I can’t believe it’s still raining!” She strips off her coat and hangs it up in the closet by the door. There are still droplets of rainwater clinging to her face, and I walk over to brush them off before pulling her into an embrace. Her lips search for mine, and we stay locked like that for a good minute before she pulls away.

“Where’s Bella?” Laura asks in a husky voice, tugging at my shirt.

“Still swimming.” I smile, pulling her toward the loveseat in the lounge area in the suite. “I have something else in mind. We’ll get to that later.”

I see her frown and smile to myself. I wait until she’s settled. “Are you happy?”

She looks puzzled. “Happy? With what?” She brightens. “About the meeting? Yes. It went really well. I’m really excited that everything is falling into place.”

“Meeting?” I repeat.

“Yes, they invited me to a group dinner tonight, and I’ll have a chance to meet Simone French. I should be getting ready, actually. There’s so much to do.” She starts to stand, but I tug her hand, and she sits back down.

“What’s wrong?” She looks confused.

“I mean this. Us. Are you happy with this arrangement?” I prod.

“I’m—yes. I mean, aren’t you?” Laura asks.

“I’m happy, definitely,” I assure her. “Which is why I want to know if you want to make this situation more permanent?”

“Permanent, how?”

“Permanent, as in, as long as we’re both content with the arrangement...for the foreseeable future,” I reply. I’m not sure myself how long permanent means. I can hear Walter’s warnings sound off in my head, and I block them out.

Laura looks down at her lap and doesn’t say anything for a moment. “So, extend it beyond our agreed term, you mean? And what does ‘foreseeable future’ mean to you?” She looks up, her expression masked.

“I mean permanent-permanent. For as long as it’s still working for both of us,” I tell her.

Laura gets up and paces in front of me. She folds her arms across her chest and bites her lips. Her usual thinking pose, I observe. At least she’s considering it.

“Listen, I’m glad you got this invitation, but I can land you a one-on-one with Simone French. I want you to join me instead tonight. I made reservations at a restaurant I think you’ll enjoy. It will give us some time to connect about some of these goals and discuss what changes we can make to this arrangement that will suit each of us if we decide on extending it.”

“Look,” Laura says, squaring her shoulders. “About meeting Ms. French, I appreciate that you want to help me advance in this area. And even though I may not have the connections you do, I struggled to get my foot in the door, and I think I did pretty good on my own. And as for the contract, I don’t know if the ‘foreseeable future’ is good enough for me. I like that the agreement has a timestamp on it because it makes things less confusing.”

I’m taken aback by her comments. “I know, Laura,” I say quietly. “I thought I could help you. There’s nothing wrong with accepting help sometimes.” I watch her withdraw further into herself. “I didn’t want to make things confusing for you. I just think since things are going well that it makes sense to explore that possibility.”

“We’re talking about two different things here, and I can’t concentrate on both. All I know is that I need to know that the connections I make are due to my own work and merit, not because of their loyalties toward you,” Laura says stubbornly. Her hand is on her hip, and she has a glint in her eye.

“That’s all you’ve done,” I insist. “You made a name for yourself long before you met me. I’m only trying to help.”

“I know.” Laura lets out a deep breath. I think she’s been holding that in for a long time. “I feel like I don’t have any control over anything anymore. This is the one area where I can dictate where I go from here. So extending this is not high on my list at the moment.” She looks torn, and I don’t want to push it any further.

“You agreed to this contract,” I point out. I feel irritated, but I can’t figure out why. “I know you want to make a name for yourself, but there’s nothing wrong with using my name in the process—you are married to me, after all.”

“I know. It just feels a little strange, that’s all.” Laura shrugs and looks uncomfortable.

“Strange, how?” I pry.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m like your ex-wife. I know you said you just had to name your price and she did whatever you wanted, but…” Laura breaks off and paces away to look out the window.

“You’re nothing like her,” I insist. “You look after Bella in a way that she never could have done. That she still couldn’t do.” I pause. “And anyway, I think you’re overthinking it. We’re both benefiting from this situation, so there’s no need to feel guilty about gaining anything from it.”

“I need to make sure I’m working toward a steady income even after this,” she gestures between us, “is over.” She is leaning against the window pane, her hands clutching the frame on either side of her.

“Why are you still concerned about money, knowing how much of a cushion you’ll have?” I am perplexed. “Is that all this is to you?” I can’t keep the hurt out of my voice, but I know that even if she agrees with that sentiment, I can’t blame her.

“I need that security is all,” she says flatly. She’s avoiding my eyes, and I feel myself losing my enthusiasm from earlier.

“I understand,” I tell her quickly. “Everyone needs that.” I begin to wonder if this is her way of asking me for more money. Bella’s mother had done that, implying that she had suffered depression during the pregnancy and deserved compensation for it. “I can increase how much I give you after the contract is up,” I say quietly. I wonder if she’ll take the bait. If she does, I’ll know I’m right about her motivations.

“No. I’d rather not take more than what we agreed upon. I’m more worried about my income and livelihood afterward.”

I’m only slightly satisfied by this answer. I’m still bothered because I’d imagined that she would be equally enthusiastic about extending our agreement. I know I’m able to read people well, so her lukewarm reaction to my suggestion confuses me.

The past couple of weeks have been so blissful, and well beyond my expectations of what we might have together. I assumed that she was feeling the same way about me, but now I wonder if her motivations have changed at all.

I don’t think it’s my place to ask her because according to our agreement, she is doing nothing wrong. In fact, she’s adhering to it, whereas I’m the one straying from it. I hadn’t expected my own feelings on the subject to change.

“Are those for me?” Laura is walking over to the table, where I laid the bouquet down. I’ve forgotten to purchase a vase from the gift shop downstairs to present them to her.

“Oh, yes,” I say. I go to stand next to her, picking up the bouquet to present them to her. I think it’s my imagination, but it’s possible her cheeks turned pink when I did that. It’s odd, though. As much as we’ve been intimate, I didn’t think this small gesture would have made her have that kind of reaction.

“Thank you,” she says smelling the lilies. “These are my favorite.” A look crosses her face. “Did I tell you that?”

“No, no. I, uh, well, I did see them on your laptop,” I say sheepishly. I give her a half smile in apology. “I’m sure I could have asked you, but it was a last-minute thing, and I saw them, so…” I’m not sure how to finish my thought.

She nods, but she’s still frowning. “I guess that makes sense. I’ll let that one slide since they are really nice.” She looks at me with a teasing smile.

Looking into her eyes, I see a glimpse of what our relationship could look like, and I want more. I want her to look at me as something more than a blank check.

Before I have a chance to steer the conversation back to expanding the terms of the agreement, her phone rings.

“Samuel! Yes, it’s good to hear from you. I’m sorry I couldn’t take your call earlier.” Laura moves to her bag and withdraws some papers. “I have them here; let me tell you which ones are done. I scanned the ones you’ll need for tomorrow but I don’t have the others done yet.”

I listen to her talk to Sam for a few minutes while I straighten Bella’s room. I see pictures Bella has drawn of herself with what looks like Laura. They are holding hands in one picture, sitting with a giant teacup in another, and among flowers in a third. In such a short amount of time, Laura has made an enormous impression on Bella. And me. I tuck the pictures into Bella’s travel bag and walk out to see if Laura has wrapped up her conversation yet. She hasn’t.

“You’re absolutely right.” She’s laughing. “I’ll try that place next time. If we get a chance, we should go to the one near the office.” She pauses and laughs again.

I can’t help feeling like an outsider with her and Sam. I want to tell her that she should limit talking to Sam to only work-related topics. I want to tell Sam to back the hell off and to keep their relationship strictly professional. But as much as I want to say this to her, I know I have no right. I don’t see myself telling Sam anything unprovoked either, so I stew. I recall him telling me how attractive he thought Laura was, and it burns me up.

When Laura hangs up, she seems to be in a more cheerful mood, and it bothers me. The evening isn’t going the way I expect at all.

“When do you have to leave for your dinner?” I ask casually. I am suppressing the frustration that is building up inside me.

“I have to get ready for that,” Laura says leaping up from the small couch. She’s wearing minimal makeup, with a plaid skirt and a plain white top. She looks incredible, and I want to tell her so, but I refrain. There is nothing I can say at this point that she will accept without reading into it. The contract says nothing about the feelings that I have budding for her or the envy I feel toward her reaction to my own brother.

“Daddy! Laura! You’re back!” Bella, her friend, and the nanny troop in. The nanny looks wiped out, and I can see that Bella looks like she has some energy to spare.

“Hey Doll-face,” I say, scooping her up. “Your mom will be by to pick you up in a bit,” I tell her friend.

“Your mum,” Laura corrects me with an elbow.

“Mum,” I repeat. Bella giggles.

“Why do you call your mum ‘Laura’?” Bella’s friend cocks her head to the side and looks from Laura back to Bella.

“She’s not my real mom,” Bella corrects her. She looks thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know my real mom. She left.”

The friend seems to accept this for now and is already interested in one of Bella’s dolls on the coffee table. Bella slips down and goes to show off her whole traveling collection. I look at Laura in time to see a wistful expression lingering on her face. She hasn’t said anything about Bella calling her anything but Laura, and I never saw a need for her to change her title since it’s temporary. I wonder if Laura would have preferred that Bella call her something else.

“I better go get ready,” Laura says, heading to the bathroom. “When is the nanny leaving? Do you need help getting Bella ready for bed?”

“No, the nanny will be leaving shortly, but I can handle it.”

I look back at the flowers after Laura’s shut the door and wonder whether I can sustain the marriage as it stands today. If Laura is content with the way things are, then I should back off and respect her choice. The problem is that my mind understands this logic, but my heart thinks otherwise.