On the day he signed the contract, he wrote eight words on the last page of the agreement.
I saw it two years later.
In the conference room of the law firm, he pushed a "Marriage Contract Agreement" in front of me.
"Su Wantang, I need a wife. Grandpa's conditions, the image of the board of directors. You have just been divorced and are in urgent need of a backer. Each takes what he needs. When it expires in two years, we will break up."
I turned to the last page. Party A has signed: Gu Xingzhi.
He is 34 years old, the heir to the Gu Group, and the man that all the women in the city want to marry.
I asked, "Why me?"
He was silent for a moment: "Because you just appeared when I needed you."
I didn't ask further. But I noticed - the coffee he handed me was hot, a latte, without sugar. I never told anyone about my taste.
On the wedding night, he gave up the master bedroom: "You stay here, and I'll sleep in the guest room."
We are like roommates who share a house, we are polite, distant and do not disturb each other.
He would ask his assistant to bring me a cup of coffee when I was working late into the night. When I am being challenged by a client, I will use a data report to help me out. When I had a fever and asked for leave, he would "just happen to" pass by my house downstairs and deliver fever-reducing medicine.
I asked why. He said: "You have to go to work tomorrow, so you can't delay your work."
What a reasonable reason.
I told myself it was just a deal. If you don't be tempted, you won't get hurt.
Until that rainy night, I asked him: "How long have you paid attention to me?"
He didn't answer.
Two years later, I saw the line he wrote on the night he signed the contract in the middle of the last page of the agreement.
Not "nice to work with."
It's - "If I fall in love with you, is it considered a breach of contract?"
