When we arrived home after the wedding, Claire didn’t kiss me. She didn’t even step fully inside the house.
Instead, she paused at the doorway, clutching her purse tightly as if she had been holding something important inside it for a very long time.
“Adam… before anything else,” she said quietly, “promise me something.”
Her voice carried a seriousness that made me uneasy.
“What kind of promise?” I asked.
She hesitated, forcing a small nervous smile.Premarital agreements
“No matter what you see,” she said, “don’t scream… at least not until I explain.”
A strange feeling crept through me.
Continue on the next page:
