Chapter 1: Desperation (Part 3)
799 Words
The phone in her pocket vibrated again. She didn’t pull it out to look. She didn’t need to; she knew it was either a debt collector or the hospital demanding payment. She thought of her father in the hospital ward. She remembered how his hair had turned white overnight, the guilt-stricken look in his eyes when he watched her, and the sob in his voice when he said, "Dad has let you down." She thought of the texts from the creditors, the threatening words, and the mere four-digit balance remaining in her bank account.
Then, she lifted her head and looked at Julian Vane. From start to finish, this man’s expression hadn't changed once. He was waiting for her answer like a shrewd business executive waiting for a decision that guaranteed a profit with zero risk.
"I agree."
She heard herself utter those words.
A flicker of surprise flashed through Julian’s eyes—it was faint and fleeting, but she caught it. He pulled a pen from the inner pocket of his suit and handed it to her.
"Sign it."
Evelyn took the pen. The barrel still held the lingering warmth of his body. Yet she felt cold—a chill that seeped from her fingertips straight to her heart. She flipped to the last page of the agreement and wrote her name in the signature block—Evelyn. Each stroke felt as if she were drawing a final period on her own life.
Julian took the agreement back, and after confirming there were no errors, tucked it into a file folder. Then he stood up. "Tomorrow morning at nine, the Civil Affairs Bureau. Bring your ID and household register." He took two steps, then stopped. Without looking back, he added, "Clause three of the agreement: no interference in each other’s private lives after marriage. I hope you remember that."
The sound of his footsteps gradually faded away.
Evelyn sat where she was, watching the automatic doors at the end of the corridor slowly close, shutting Julian’s silhouette out. She lowered her head and looked at her empty palm—he had taken the pen back; nothing remained. Nothing except that signed marriage agreement, which no longer belonged to her.
She didn't know how long she sat there. Maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour. Finally, a nurse poked her head out of the ward and called her name: "Evelyn? Your father is awake again; he says he needs to see you."
Evelyn stood up. Her legs were still a bit weak, but much better than before. She pushed open the door to the ward and walked in. Arthur Sterling was leaning against the headboard; when he saw her enter, his eyes brightened for a moment. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but when he saw the look on his daughter's face, the words died in his throat.
"Evelyn, what happened? Why do you look so pale?"
Evelyn walked over and sat by the bed. She took her father’s hand—that withered, ice-cold hand that had once patted her shoulder and said, "Dad will always be your backup."
"Dad," she began, her voice soft but steady. "The money issue... it’s been resolved."
Arthur was stunned. "What?"
"There is someone," Evelyn said slowly, "who is willing to take over the company’s debts and even give us a sum of money. The condition is that I have to work at his company for a year."
She didn't mention the marriage. She couldn't bring herself to say it.
Arthur looked at her, his eyes reddening again. "Evelyn, did you... did you...?"
"Dad, don’t overthink it," Evelyn interrupted him, squeezing his hand firmly. "I’m an adult now; I can handle these things. Just focus on recovering and wait for me for one year. After a year, everything will be fine."
She didn’t know if she was saying those words to her father or to herself. One year. Three hundred and sixty-five days. She had no idea what was waiting for her; she only knew that starting tomorrow, her name would carry a new prefix—Mrs. Vane.
Arthur looked at her, his mouth working as if to speak, but nothing came out. He simply gripped his daughter's hand back, tears of old age streaming down his face.
By the time she left the hospital, it was already nine o'clock at night. Evelyn stood at the hospital entrance, watching the heavy traffic on the busy streets. The flashing neon lights illuminated the entire street as bright as day. People hurried past, and no one noticed her. She looked up at the night sky. In the city's night, there were no stars to be seen—only thick layers of clouds, reflecting the ground lights into a murky, hazy gray.
- Writer
