Chapter.2
1266 Words
It hit me like a whipcrack, sudden, blazing, merciless.
My body seized, crumbling with weakness. I felt the echo of what I’d heard crash through every part of me.
The first stab of pain wasn’t in my chest, it was buried deep in my bones.
It spread like a cramp through every muscle, until even my fingertips trembled.
My ears rang so loudly I could barely hear the doctor’s voice, but the words still carved themselves into my skull:
"She has only seven days to live."
For a second, the room tilted. My knees buckled.
My hands caught the wall, palm against the cold paint, breathing in sharp, shallow gulps that scraped my throat raw.
Seven days.
The cancer had eaten through her right breast, now chewing into her organs. The left side was swollen, bruised, inflamed.
My mind refused to stop painting her there on the hospital bed, thin fingers curled over the blanket, lips twitching into a smile that cost her more strength than she had.
I forced my legs to move back toward him.
“Doctor, please… I can’t afford the money now. What can you do to save my mum? She’s all I have left.”
The plea splintered in my throat. Garrett stood beside me, hands buried in his pockets, his face unreadable.
The doctor crossed his arms. “I thought you said you’d pay in two weeks. The surgery now costs three million dollars.”
My breath hitched.
“No… you told me it was one million! I haven’t saved up to the amount yet!”
My ribs ached from the quick, shallow breaths.
His frown deepened. “Unbelievable. Are you saying you don’t even have the old amount? The bill has increased. How do you expect me to help you?”
My knees hit the tile before I knew I’d dropped.
I gripped the edge of his white coat like it was a lifeline, my forehead bowing toward the floor as sobs tore loose.
Tears splattered against the cold tiles. I turned my face toward Garrett. My eyes clung to him like they could make him move.
He didn’t. His lips were parted, but nothing came. His brows drew together, not cruel, not cold, just… far away.
The distance in his gaze hurt more than if he’d turned his back.
The doctor’s sigh brushed past me, and his footsteps faded down the hall.
Three million.
Three million to keep her breathing.
I pushed myself upright, swiping at my face with my damp sleeve.
My blouse clung to my skin; my hands shook as though they didn’t belong to me.
Somewhere in my inbox, my landlord’s threats waited.
Six months of unpaid rent pressed against my spine like a weight I couldn’t drop.
Garrett stepped closer. For a second, I thought he’d pull me into his arms. Instead, his voice came low, desperate.
“I have an idea that could help you.”
I lifted my head slowly. The words dangled like a rope over a cliff.
Was he finally going to…?
He cut in immediately, “Sign a contract marriage,” he said, without pause. “Marry a wealthy man for a few years. Get your promotion. Secure your mum’s treatment.”
The sound of it dropped inside me like a stone, the ripples spreading cold through my ribs.
“Really?” My lips twisted. “Is this the idea that could save me now?”
His jaw tensed.
“Your promotion came just in time. I cleared your rent last year. I paid for your mum’s first surgery, which failed. But I can’t keep helping you.
You have an opportunity now. Becoming someone’s wife could change everything for you.”
He pulled my promotion letter from his coat pocket and held it out. I didn’t touch it. My hands stayed clenched, nails biting into my palms.
“You’ll even qualify for a sixty-percent salary raise once you marry,” he added, like sugar poured over something rotten.
The shape of his face felt unfamiliar to me.
“You can’t help my mother now, but you’re fine selling me to a stranger?”
His expression sharpened.
“And what about all the times I’ve helped you? Don’t worry, I’ll pay part of her bill, but it won’t solve the problem. This is your best option. I told you before… I can’t marry a pathetic woman like you.”
The word slammed into me. My breath caught, my shoulders folding in as though he’d pressed a hand to my chest.
“Fine.” the word slipped out in a whisper, then firm, shaking. “If that’s what it takes to save my mum” my throat burned “I’ll do it! I don’t care who it is!”
Garrett’s mouth curved into a smirk. “Now you’re thinking clearly. There’s a brand that sets up contract spouses. I’ll cover your enrollment, two million. You’ll get the best catch.”
Two million to sign me off like a package but he can't foot my mum's full hospital bill. My hands felt numb in shock.
"Wow!" I exclaimed as I walked out of the hospital without looking back. My steps were steady, but each one scraped against something inside me.
That means that truly, I meant nothing to him. ” I thought.
My legs moved like they didn’t belong to me. Every step felt wrong, but I didn’t stop. The only image in my mind was my mother, lying still… helpless… dying.
The building was pure, the kind you only see in magazines. Golden-tinted glass. Fountain at the front. The air smelt like lavender and polished wood.
Inside, I was led to a white-lit screening room. Cold. Impersonal. I hugged myself as I sat.
God, please… let him be rich. Let him be kind. I don’t care about love anymore. Just save my mum.
A bright voice broke the air.
“Good morning! Welcome to the Queen & Kings Match Lovers Company!” the woman muttered.
“Take a seat. You’re moments away from meeting your dream man!”
I sat down, stone-faced.
They flashed his profile on the screen.
Tall. Powerful. Manager of a top company in California. Generous. Has experience with contract marriages.
That’s all I needed.
“I accept him!”
The agent blinked. Surprised.
“Ma’am that is too fast, at least, don’t you like to know his name?”
“No. His job title is enough. Just give me the contract.” I cut in immediately, desperate.
She gave me a long face as she handed over the papers.
I scribbled my signature like I was signing my soul away.
“Congratulations! She beamed.
“Your contract husband is Mr. Edward Jones.”
I nodded faintly. “That sounds like a rich person’s name.”
A weak smile forced its way to my lips. Maybe… maybe there was hope after all.
Minutes later, I had Garrett on the line.
“My new husband’s name is… Edward Jones,” I said, my voice low.
“Edward WHAT?!” His voice cracked, sharp with disbelief.
I was shocked. Tensed. My heart rose up in fear. I repeated again, "Edward Jones."
There was a pause, heavy with something between rage and shock.
Heat surged in his chest, sharp and rising, his hands curling against his sides as if to stop himself from shattering something. His gaze darted, w
ild, like a man searching for proof this was just a mistake.
"You don't mean it! This has to be a dream!" He exclaimed as if he wanted to raise a fist.
- Writer
