What it is about
I once thought relationships worked like the strictest double-entry books: every debit had a credit, and the two always balanced.
Every sacrifice and every demand could be made to balance perfectly on the ledger of life.
Then I met Ian Vale.
To save my father, who had been left in a vegetative state, I signed a five-year contract with Ian.
He was my creditor. I was his clearly priced "Mrs. Vale."
We agreed on three rules: accounts only, no love;
We would act the part, but we would not fall for each other.
