“The schoolhouse pump?”
“Yes.”
“You repaired it in April.”
“I remember.”
Eliza stared at him.
“You said six words to me.”
“I said more than six.”
“You said, ‘Hand me the wrench,’ and then something about the gasket.”
Nathan’s mouth moved.
“I was nervous.”
She almost laughed.
“Nathan Cole was nervous?”
“Frequently.”
“I have never seen it.”
“That was the objective.”
Despite everything, she smiled.
Then the weight of why she had come returned.
“Nathan…”
“I’ll help you.”
Her breath caught.
“But.”
Of course.
There was always a but.
Nathan tapped the contract.
“I will not sign this as written.”
Eliza stiffened.
“What do you want changed?”
He picked up her pen.
Found the final clause.
Drew one firm line through it.
Eliza stared.
“Nathan.”
He wrote carefully beneath.
At the completion of six months, either party may request separation without financial claim or penalty. Nothing in this agreement requires either party to end the marriage.
He put down the pen.
Eliza read it.
Then again.
“That is not what I proposed.”
“No.”
“You could be trapped.”
“So could you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Nathan looked directly at her.
“I can promise you a separate room.”
“No demands.”
“No claim to your wages.”
“No interference with your work.”
“I can promise never to use this arrangement to pressure you into affection.”
Eliza’s throat tightened.
“But I cannot promise that six months from now I will want you gone.”
Silence.
The rain seemed louder.
Nathan continued.
“That would be the lie.”
Her fingers trembled.
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough to want to know more.”
“That is not the same as loving someone.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
He stepped closer.
Not too close.
Enough.
“I said I won’t sign an ending before we have begun.”
Eliza stared.
She had arrived prepared for refusal.
Mockery.
Maybe reluctant charity.
She had not prepared for being wanted.
The distinction frightened her.
She looked toward the altered contract.
“If I ask to leave after six months?”
“I will not stop you.”
“No argument?”
“Probably an argument.”
She almost smiled.
“But no coercion.”
“No.”
“No financial punishment.”
“No.”
“No claim to my wages.”
“No.”
“And separate rooms?”
Nathan nodded.
“Unless you someday request otherwise.”
Her cheeks warmed.
He noticed.
Very clearly.
Neither commented.
Eliza picked up the pen.
Her hand shook.
Nathan said:
“You don’t have to sign tonight.”
“I have to marry someone before Monday.”
“You do not have to marry me.”
She looked at him.
That was the moment.
The choice.
Not the town.
Not Grayson.
Not the board.
Nathan.