Chapter 19 – Terms of Tomorrow
Elaine stood in her office, surrounded by blueprints and murals-in-progress.
Sunlight spilled across her desk, highlighting a page titled:
**Terms of Tomorrow.**
Not a contract.
A declaration.
She wrote carefully, each word shaped by lessons carved from pain.
> 1. No control.
> 2. Mutual decisions, always.
> 3. Transparent dialogue—no assumptions.
> 4. Space is sacred.
> 5. Autonomy above all.
> 6. We grow together—or we part without punishment.
> 7. Love is earned. Re-earned. Re-chosen.
She folded the page into an envelope.
And called him.
---
James arrived three days later.
No flowers. No suits.
Just jeans, rolled sleeves, and a heartbeat visible in his throat.
They met by the riverside bench near the center—the same one where children launched paper boats.
Elaine handed him the envelope.
He read every word.
Out loud.
Without interrupting.
Without reacting.
Just absorbing.
When he reached the last line, he looked up.
“I agree.”
“No edits?”