9. Sally

Drakar’s simple question of what’s wrong breaks the dam and lets the flooding begin.

”Honestly, my life is a bit of a mess right now. My father is in the hospital waiting for surgery that my family can”t pay for. I”m already working as a teacher, but it”s not enough. I lost my job at the golf club because of that insufferable Aurelius, and now I”m drowning in bills and responsibilities.”

The pressure builds within me, a cocktail of fear, anger, and desperation simmering just beneath the surface. I run my hand through my wet hair in exasperation, the need to provide for my family a relentless drumbeat in my mind.

Drakar frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble at work with that man. I just didn’t like how he was treating you.”

“No.” I shake my head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and it isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of people like my manager, who let men act like that with no repercussions. You’re the only one who did the right thing, but the world doesn’t care about what’s right, I’m beginning to realize.”

I let out a weary sigh. ”I”m doing everything I can, but it”s never enough,” I lament, my voice cracking with emotion. ”I need more work, more money, more time. How am I supposed to juggle it all and still be there for my father when he needs me the most? It”s like I”m trapped in this endless cycle of struggle and sacrifice, and I don”t know how to break free.”

I meet Drakar’s gaze, both of us sitting in tense silence after my outburst. A million new thoughts start racing through my mind. Why am I telling him all of this when he probably only asked out of moral obligation? Can someone like him even understand what it’s like to live my life? To endure my struggles?

What is he thinking right now?

As I share my story with Drakar, the weight of my worries threatens to crush me. My voice wavers, and I struggle to maintain my composure. It”s then that I feel a gentle touch, as if someone is offering me a lifeline in the midst of my turmoil.

I look up to find Drakar”s hand reaching across the table, his large, calloused fingers extending towards mine. Each fingertip is adorned with intricate patterns, a testament to the orcish tradition of etching symbols of strength and honor into their skin.

Despite his intimidating appearance, there”s a tenderness in his movements that catches me off guard. He places his hand over mine, enveloping it in a protective grasp that seems to radiate warmth and reassurance.

His touch is so gentle, so soothing. It”s a stark contrast to the rough, battle-scarred exterior I”ve come to associate with orcs, and I can”t help but feel a sense of vulnerability, exposing my innermost fears and struggles to someone who, until recently, was little more than an intimidating stranger. But the way he helped me with Aurelius… There’s obviously something deeply caring and empathetic in him, and I’m witnessing that again now.

Drakar”s expression remains stoic, yet there”s a certain warmth and understanding in his gaze that I hadn”t expected from an orc. His eyes, a deep, stormy gray, almost black, seem to hold an infinite well of compassion and wisdom, and I find myself drawn to their depths, searching for answers to questions I hadn”t even realized I was asking.

He studies me intensely and I can feel the tips of my ears burn under his gaze. What must he see right now? Probably a mess.

But there’s no malice in his gaze. No judgment, disappointment, or expectation. Just consideration.

Finally, he seems to come to a conclusion. “I have a proposal for you. One that might sound a little… bizarre. But I believe it could help us both.”

I furrow my brow. “Okay. What is it?”

His voice, when he speaks again, is earnest, offering a proposal so bizarre and yet so grounded in practicality that it takes my breath away.

”Be my contract wife,” he says, the words hanging in the air like a challenge, a promise, and a lifeline all at once.

As Drakar”s words hang in the air, I find myself struggling to process what he”s just proposed. My mind races, trying to make sense of his unexpected offer. The concept of a contract marriage, devoid of love and romance, seems so foreign to me, and yet the potential benefits of such an arrangement are impossible to ignore.

”Contract wife?” I echo, my voice barely above a whisper. The words feel strange and unfamiliar on my tongue as if I”m speaking a language I”ve only just begun to learn.

As I sit in stunned silence, Drakar begins to elaborate on his unorthodox proposal, his words painting a picture of a mutually beneficial arrangement that seems almost too good to be true. He speaks with conviction, his deep voice resonating with a quiet determination that leaves me spellbound.

”The business world can be ruthless, especially for someone like me,” he explains, his voice tinged with a weariness that speaks volumes about the challenges he”s faced. ”As an orc, I”ve had to fight tooth and nail to earn my place in the boardroom, to prove that I have the intelligence and strategic acumen to compete with the best of them.”

He pauses, taking a sip of his tea before continuing. ”But there are still those who doubt me, who see my heritage as a liability rather than an asset. They would use it against me if given the chance, and I can”t afford to let that happen.”

I listen intently, my heart going out to Drakar as he shares his struggles. Despite his intimidating appearance, it”s clear that he”s faced his fair share of adversity, and I can”t help but admire his resilience and determination.

”Having a wife, a respectable human woman by my side, would send a powerful message to my critics and solidify my position in the boardroom,” he continues, his expression resolute. ”It would be a strategic move, one that could benefit us both.”

I consider his words, my mind racing as I try to process the implications of his proposal. A temporary marriage, a business arrangement devoid of romantic entanglements, all in the name of professional advancement and financial stability. It”s a far cry from the fairytale notions of love and marriage that I”ve always held dear, and yet the practicality of Drakar”s proposal is undeniably appealing.

”What would I gain from this arrangement?” I ask, my voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions churning within me.

Drakar”s eyes meet mine, his gaze unwavering as he lays out the terms of his offer. ”In exchange for becoming my contract wife, I would provide you with the financial resources necessary to cover your father”s medical expenses and any outstanding debts. Additionally, you would have access to my connections and influence, which could prove invaluable in your career and personal pursuits.”

He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a sleek business card, which he slides across the table towards me. The simple, elegant font bears his name and contact information, a stark reminder of the professional nature of his proposition.

”Consider it carefully,” he says, his voice soft yet resolute.

He… he’s really serious about this. He means every word.

I take the card in my hand. The card itself feels substantial, the weight of it seeming to convey the importance of the decision I”m being asked to make. This simple slip of paper represents a choice, a crossroads that could forever alter the course of my life.

As I look into Drakar”s sincere, steadfast gaze, I can”t help but wonder if this unexpected alliance might just be the key to unlocking a brighter, more secure future for myself and my family.

And besides, there could be a lot worse people to be married to. Having someone there to support me financially. Someone who stops their car in the middle of the rain to help a woman and buy her coffee. Someone tall and handsome and sincere who sticks up for someone he doesn’t even know.

I refocus my mind. He’s offering me a business deal. That’s how I should be thinking about it.

When our conversation draws to a close, Drakar rises from his seat, his movements fluid and graceful despite his imposing size. He extends a hand towards me, a silent offer of assistance that I gratefully accept. Together, we navigate the crowded café, making our way toward the exit and the stormy night that awaits us.

Once outside, the rain continues to pour down in torrents, drenching the pavement and sending rivulets of water cascading down the gutters. Drakar wordlessly offers me his umbrella again, a gallant gesture that I find touching.

Drakar offers me a ride home, which I accept even when the voice in my head wonders why I’m getting in a car with a near stranger. On the walk there, Drakar remains a steadfast companion, his quiet presence a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos of my swirling thoughts. He doesn”t press me for an answer to his proposal, nor does he offer any further arguments in its favor.

The rain pounds against the pavement, each droplet a reminder of the turmoil and uncertainty that threatens to overwhelm me. And yet as we make our way through the storm, I can”t help but feel a sense of hope, as if the rain is washing away the doubts and fears that have been holding me back.

When we reach the car, I am a little relieved to see he has a driver. At least I’m not all alone in a car with a strange orc, who I’m still not quite sure why I trust so much.

When we finally reach my apartment building, Drakar hesitates for a moment, as if reluctant to part ways. Then, with a nod and a softly spoken farewell, he disappears into the night, leaving me standing beneath the awning, his umbrella still clutched tightly in my hands.

“But, Drakar…”

It’s no use. He’s already back in the car, pulling away.

I make my way upstairs, the weight of Drakar”s proposal settling heavily upon me. The wheels in my head spin as fast as the raindrops on the window, his offer echoing in the back of my mind like the relentless patter of the storm. It”s a decision that will undoubtedly change the course of my life, for better or for worse, and I can”t help but wonder if I”m brave enough to take the leap of faith that Drakar is offering.

With a sigh, I close the door to my apartment, shutting out the rain and the turmoil of the outside world. And as I sink into the familiar comfort of my bed, I find myself praying for the wisdom and courage to make the right choice, whatever that might be.