The unveiling Tiles

In the quiet haven of my office, surrounded by marriage contracts neatly arranged on shelves, I found myself grappling with a decision that had been brewing for thirteen years. The city's distant hum seemed to mirror the weight on my shoulders as I contemplated the path ahead.

The clock on the wall, worn from years of ticking away the moments of countless unions, echoed my uncertainty. A framed photograph on my desk captured the smiles of a couple I had united a testament to the stories I had woven over the years.

The morning sun spilled through the window, casting a glow on the latest marriage contract proposal in my hands. Today, I stood at the precipice of change, considering the end of a familiar routine with Mr. Charles. Monday, Wednesday, Friday -five years of predictability that had become a comforting cocoon. Yet, an unspoken yearning urged me to break free.

As I delved into my thoughts, reminiscing about past clients, a particular story surfaced - the tale of a client who, burdened with a secret, sought my guidance. His words lingered in the air, "Dad, he has a wee wee," his sister had announced, unraveling a life-altering revelation.

I recalled the father's exuberance upon learning of his son's birth during a card game, even naming him Jimi Card. A son who excelled in every pursuit a father could wish for, only to confront the realization that he was gay.

"He ended up coming to me," I mused, my pen pausing over the paper, capturing the weight of the moment. The client's confession, tinged with sadness and regret, echoed in my mind as he spoke of his siblings' suffering.

A week after that heartfelt confession, we got married. Filling a marriage certificate was an additional option, a choice I was willing to make as long as the cost was paid. Timing, however, had to be right, for two people at the same time was impossible.

As a 13-year veteran in this delicate profession, I entered my thirties. The journey had its moments of joy and sorrow, encapsulated in the snippets of dialogues and actions that filled my office:

- *"Grandma passed away with a smile on her face"*

- *"Our company survived"*

- *"They can't say a word after that"*

- *"Helper, thank you so much"*

- *"Thank you. I wish you great happiness"*

Each expression of gratitude and success felt like a reward, affirming my purpose and allowing me to live happily.

With the memories of clients and their stories etched in my mind, I turned my attention back to the current proposal. Little did I know that the echoes of the past would intertwine with the decisions I was about to make in the present.

As if on cue, a soft knock echoed through my office, drawing my attention to the door. Mr. Charles stood there, his usual composed demeanor revealing nothing of the internal conflict that mirrored my own.

"Good morning, Mara," he greeted, his voice holding a trace of curiosity. "I hope today brings clarity to the decisions we both need to make."

That night, I lay in bed, satisfied with the intricate tapestry of my life, somniloquizing in the quiet of my room. Suddenly, the curtain swung open, interrupting my peaceful moment.

"Huhhhhhh... All right, it's not right now," Jimi, my roommate and confidant, announced, the sun "isn't rising, it is setting. Please get up!"

Jimi seemed determined to ruffle my calm. "He is better than I am when it comes to hiding identities," I retorted, a hint of anger in my voice.

"Get it together, hurry and get ready," he instructed before walking out of my room.

Sighing, I opened my engagement rings drawer, contemplating the next ring to wear for my upcoming client visit. My gaze settled on "Charles." With a simple "Bye," I bade Jimi farewell, but later came back to have coffee.

"Brunch?" Jimi asked.

"No, just some coffee," I replied, not anticipating the unexpected twist awaiting me.

As I entered the living area, a muscular half-naked guy strolled out of Jimi's room.

"What...!!" I exclaimed, mouth wide open.

"Sorry, we'll leave right after we eat," Jimi whispered in my ear, attempting to diffuse the tension.

"It's okay, she is my roommate and soulmate I told you about last night," Jimi introduced me to his new friend.

"Hi, here, sit. I won't bite you," I said with a faint smile.

"Sure, then please excuse me," he said, taking a seat. "Beautiful women are so annoying—the woman you fake married"?

"She doesn't like that word..." Jimi reminded his friend, whose name I didn't know and didn't care to know.

"Isn't marriage all about doing your best to make the other happy?" I asked.

"Then what about you two?" he fired back, "Will you continue to act married?"

"We're already divorced," Jimi interrupted his question. "This woman is very expensive, I can't handle her."

"Then why living together?" He asked again. "It's nice to leave together, right??" Jimi replied by asking me the question. "Right," I replied with a smile. "I actually loathe men."

"Hey, I told you to get rid of those rings. I get chills every time I open that drawer while cleaning. I might get gold-phobia. Just keep using the same one!" Jimi said, trying to change the topic on the ground because he could feel the tension in the room.

"Jimi wearing a customized ring for each client is my professional spirit." I replied, arranging the one on my hand. "My gosh....." Jimi said. "Who would recognize that?"

"Ohh right, Mara, you're retiring this month, right?" Jimi was trying to remind me, just the way an alarm will wake you up at the specific time you set it.

"Oh yea, why? Are you going to throw a retirement party for me?" I said.

"Of course, my ex-wife is completely ending her marriage life, so I made grand preparations. Look, Mara, I prepared everything." He said, grabbing my shoulder. "Hey, hey is this someone's 60th birthday?" I teased.

"Look at this too, here at the bottom, bottom."

I coughed, "Hey," his boyfriend cut in and gave Jimi a facial sign reminding him that we are now divorced, and he was coming too close to me.

"Ohhhh, I was tactless. I will take my leave for the two of you, can you give me my bag?" I said, looking at Jimi as he passed it for me. "Please have a good time," and I stepped out for business.

---

Today marked the day I visited my Monday, Wednesday, and Friday client, known simply as "Mr. Money" or sometimes "Mr. Pension" by my roommate, Jimi. Charles Morgan was his real name, a client who always paid without fail, making him a bit special among the list of hundreds.

"All I know about him are all his basic demographics, his name, and his age of 36 years old. Out of a list of hundreds of clients, he's a bit special. We are a five-year married couple."

"He always chooses the menu and cooks as well. He's frighteningly taciturn. Even if you add all the words he spoke for the past five years, I'd say it's about 50 words," I reflected on my client as I prepared to meet him once again.

As I went through his files, I spotted him on my camera and picked up my phone to call him. Ringing... "Hello, Charles."

"Yes, you can sit in the seat to the right," he hung up and walked away. I was surprised and shocked at the same time, but before I could stand up, he already approached me.

"Please marry me," was the only thing he said.

"You want a contract, including a marriage certificate, but for no special reason? Charles Morgan," I added.

"The term stated that upon the client's request, personal information will not be required, is that correct?" he asked.

"That's correct. However, without a specific duration and every possible day. But the fact that you have no reason for the referral was just a bit odd," I was trying to point out something for him.

.

"How does eating dinner with me sound?" he cut in, like a married couple.

"Your facial expression says otherwise," trying to compose myself

"Pardon?...." He said and drew his head forward

"Nevermind." I replied.

"By any chance are you afraid of me?"he just broke the ice.

"Me?..."I was shy when I replied him

I had no justification to decline him as long as they abide by the contract,I have no reason to dig into clients personal information. I wanted to know what he was up to as well.

Smiled and I finally said "Let's do this"

"I have other reservations so everyday will be difficult, Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights are all right, you're okay with Monday, Wednesday and Friday night?"

"Yes let's