How To Handle Relationship Expectations Healthily?

"I'm sorry for what I'm about to tell you. I just don't want you to have any misconceptions about this marriage." "What do you mean?" "I don't like beating about the bush, so I will go straight to the point. I don't like you and don't want to get married to you. I had to consent because my mother requested this from me, and I just couldn't say no to her." "What are you now trying to say?" "You shouldn't have any expectations from me or from this marriage."

Rule 1: Don’t fall in love with me Rule 2- Don’t touch my things Rule 3: This is not your home, don’t decorate/ change anything Rule 4: Stay out of my Business Rule 5: Don’t ever be seen in public with another man. Rule 6: Don’t touch me. Rule 7: Don’t ever enter my room You know the things about Contract Marriage, they come with rules right? Rules are meant to be broken, but that's just my thoughts. My 6’5 husband, the epitome of irresistible allure and captivating mystery prefers I follow his rules while he's all busy. But the thing is, we both needed this marriage so why should it be His rules? I mean I know I got my own rules and I'll be damn if he doesn't follow them just as I do his. Even I know how to dress up and look good. Now he's thrown into the corner with my rules, it's a battle he intends on winning but tough shit cause so do I. But those are not the only rules that should not be broken, is it? The rules of the heart cannot be obey and Dammit if he doesn't make me swoon but this is our Marriage, Our rules.

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

After my girlfriend returns from a month-long business trip with her first love, she notices that I've changed. She sides with him to take over my project, but I don't quit in anger. Instead, I throw myself into helping him, even drafting proposals for him. She destroys the design I worked so hard on to help him snag the year-end bonus, yet I don't try to defend myself. I take all the blame and let her punish me however she likes. Even when she goes as far as to promote him to general manager against the rules, I don't get upset. I hand over all my shares, letting her distribute them as she wishes. My girlfriend wonders why I've suddenly become so submissive, while her first love just grins smugly. "See? I told you—giving him the cold shoulder works. Once he's afraid of losing you, he'll fall in line," he says. It clicks for my girlfriend. She smiles, tells me I've been good, and offers me a promotion. Then, she unexpectedly asks me to propose. But she doesn't seem to realize that while we weren't speaking, she has already signed my resignation papers. And I've already broken up with her. From this moment on, I sever all ties with her, and we no longer have anything to do with each other.

When I'm pulling an overnight shift at midnight, I receive a text from my boyfriend of five years, Robert Howell. "I've already ended the rental agreement on our previous apartment. I'm sending you our new address now." After glancing at the address, realization dawns on me immediately. "Is this because of Daisy again?" Daisy Baldwin is the so-called delicate yet strong-willed young woman, whom Robert has mentioned to me. This is our third time moving apartments in just half a year. We've moved from a high-end apartment located in the boisterous city all the way to a residential area in the rural slums. All this… just so Robert can get closer to Daisy. I must have exposed Robert's true intentions, for he sounds quite humiliated and furious. "Can you stop being so petty? Dee Dee was stalked after she got off her overtime shift! You're a woman as well; how is it that you don't have any trace of empathy for her?" As I look out the window and see the night sky, I feel a wave of exhaustion hitting me all of a sudden. Honestly, I don't remember how many times Robert and I have argued over Daisy. At first, I was enraged and aggrieved. Now, I'm just speechless. "I can't be bothered to waste my breath on you. I'm going to pick Dee Dee up from work now." Robert ends the call before I can respond. The thing is, Robert has never asked me if I wanted to move right from the start. He also never asks me if I need a ride home since it's already this late at night. That's why I drop my signature on the overseas assignment agreement that has been left on my desk for a week without consulting Robert at all.

We have just finished our classes for the day when Nicholas Wolfe tells me that he's going to a concert with his junior, Madeline Cross. "I'm heading over to the venue right now. I can't let Madeline wait for me, after all." Nicholas sounds so casual, as though he's talking about the weather. I arrange my textbooks neatly before putting them into my bag. "Okay." My response leaves Nicholas stunned. He pauses in the middle of typing a text to Madeline before raising his head to look at me. "Madeline and I are about to watch the concert performed by The Paxleys, your favorite band. Are you… not mad at me at all?" I zip my bag while replying calmly, "Nope." I've begged Nicholas 99 times to watch the concert with me. On the 100th time, he finally buys two tickets… for himself and Madeline. I'm not surprised in the slightest. Ever since Madeline transferred to our university, I've started to get used to Nicholas prioritizing her over me. I sling my bag onto my shoulder and begin making my way to the classroom's exit. Nicholas doesn't move an inch. But when I'm about to leave, he catches up with me and grips my wrist. "Lia, we'll travel to Sorenton three days later. The Paxleys will be holding another concert there. I'll attend that concert with you. "That day is our third-year anniversary, so I definitely won't bail out on you." I look down at Nicholas' hand that's gripping me, then I look up at him. This time, my lips curl into a smile. "Okay." Over the past six months, Nicholas has promised me to do things "next week" nine times, and said "I'll definitely show up" 13 times, and "don't worry" 16 times. But he's bailed out on me every single time he makes plans with me. Next week, we won't be attending the concert together, that's for sure. After all, I'm the one bailing on him this time.