Capítulo 7: Chapter 7: Alternatives but No Choice

“Ryan and Lia...sitting in a glamorous room. K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Bobby laughed, as he sang.

He sat across from Lia, on the hotel room bed. He had his legs crossed, and his chin was balanced in the palms of his hands, as he gaped at his friend.

“It’s not funny!” Lia cried.

“So, what do you want to do? Forfeit signing the contract? All because you’re too scared to share the same room with your ex?” Bobby queried.

Lia shrugged, “That’s why you are there friend. Please help me with some advice.”

“Ok, take it this way. Would you rather, share a room with some stranger, in a prison cell? Or, would you rather share a room, with the devil you know? He said, share a room, not share a bed!” Bobby reasoned.

Lia shrugged as she bit her finger nails nervously. Bobby tugged her fingers from her mouth.

“Friend, what do you think he will do to you?” Suddenly, Bobby’s eyes lit up. “Oh! It’s not Ryan you don’t trust. You don’t trust yourself, and this silly crush you have on him?”

Lia looked at her friend and winced. She knew that he was about to give her a well-deserved lecture.

“You are doing this, not for Ryan, but your freedom. Understand that fact! Also, despite this whole agreement, Ryan is not your friend. He is still the same guy who hurt you. And caused your existence to come tumbling down.”

Lia nodded.

“I told you, take it as a business deal. He gets to keep his stupid company. You get to keep your freedom. Nothing more--nothing less. Stop attaching feelings to this…. for now,” her friend said as he got up and walked to the huge mirror in the lounge area of the hotel room to admire himself.

“Has anyone ever told you how vain you are?” Lia laughed.

“Well, love begins with oneself. If that is vanity, so be it.” Bobby shrugged, as he blew his reflection an air kiss.

“I do wish there was another way. I don’t know if I fear sharing a room with Ryan, because my weakness for that devil will come back in loads. Or because, I might just be tempted to smother his gorgeous face with a pillow, while he sleeps.”

Bobby laughed while he continued making pouty faces at the mirror. “You might be a sneaky little minx, but you are no murderer.” He turned around to face her.

“Say it with me: ‘For my freedom! For my freedom!’”

Lia took a steadying breath. “For my freedom!” she shouted as she picked up a pen and signed the contract.

After Lia had bade her friend goodbye, she took a warm shower and dressed in the hotel robe.

The idiot had been so scared she would run, he didn’t even give her a chance to go get her clothes and belongings. She scowled. At least her shower had gone well. Tap against Lia. This time, she had won.

Ryan found her perusing an old magazine she had found in the lounge area. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that hugged his biceps in ways that made Lia ogle.

“I see you signed the contract,” he stated the obvious. He looked like he was in a grumpy mood.

Lia rolled her eyes. “I said I would sign it, didn’t I? Since you are rich and all, I take it your bed is two hundred meters wide?” Ryan looked at her confused.

“If we are to sleep in the same bed, we have to be far apart!” Lia blurted.

Ryan looked at her, neither moving nor answering for a while.

“The contract said, ‘same bedroom,’ not ‘same bed.’. The main bedroom, at my house, has an adjoining room, that I use as an office. I have arranged for a bed to be put in there. I will sleep in there, and you can sleep in the main bedroom.”

“Oh!” Lia did not know if she was relieved or disappointed. She did not want to share a bed with Ryan Nash. Or did she?

“For my freedom!” she whispered.

“What?” Ryan asked.

“Nothing!” Lia retorted.

“I am told your boyfriend was here.” Ryan sneered. “You are getting married to me. It would be wise if he does not keep hanging around you.”

Lia giggled. Was that jealousy she noted?

“It’s a fake marriage. What does it matter whom I see?” She decided to play along.

“The world doesn’t know that it’s a fake marriage, Lia. If you wish to see your little boyfriend, be discreet! What if the media saw you sneaking some guy into a hotel room? What would that say about my future wife? The contract clearly states that, the world needs to be convinced this marriage is real!” Ryan barked.

It dawned on Lia. He was not jealous; he was worried about what others would think. Typical Ryan. Always concerned about his status and what the world would say or think.

“I did not sneak him in. I let him in. He could be my brother for all they know. You know what? Fine! I will be discreet in the future, when I see my ‘little’ boyfriend!” she threw back.

Ryan scratched his head and sat on the bed, shoulders sagged. “Do you love him?”

“What...?” Lia did not expect that direct question.

“He is my best friend. He helped me pick up the pieces of my life that you shattered when you walked away eight years ago! I do not know what my life would have been without his unwavering support. He is loyal, a word that does not exist in your dumb vocabulary. Of course, I love him. Bobby is not my boyfriend. He is gay,” she wanted to say but instead remained quiet. She was not going to feed Ryan’s ego anymore with any explanations.

She wanted to let him believe whatever he chose.

“Do you love him?” Ryan repeated, louder this time.

“Yes, Ryan. I love Bobby with my whole being!” she cried.

Ryan planted his face in his palm. An uncomfortable silence ensued.

Ryan stood up and walked to the bar fridge. Lia watched him pour himself an unreasonable amount of whiskey in a glass and down it.

“Lia, will you do me a favor? When you see him, don’t just hide the deed from people. Please make sure, I also don’t find out,” he said in a dangerously calm tone.

“Why? If it’s the press and people you fear, I said I would be discreet and protect your ‘precious’ status. What does it matter if you know? You are well aware that the marriage is phony. Why would you care, if you knew I was with my real, ‘boyfriend’?” Lia probed.

Ryan poured himself another glass of whiskey and again knocked the whole glass back.

He looked at her, his features unreadable.

“I am not good at sharing, Lia.”

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