The Two-Million Dollar Fake Fiancée

ella

t door of my own house felt like walking onto a battlefield. My mother looked even more frail and withered than when I had left th

reated to my bedroom, pulling the door sh

arching mine with heavy concern. "Are you ho

don't know," I mumbled into the fabric. "I smile every singl

ling me her doctor had suggested an experimental treatment program in Germany. It was a glim

nd. "Whatever you decide to do, I

ing to be okay." But the words hung hollow in the air

u

Another automated rejection email fro

across the mattress. Despair wrapped aroun

ffee shop," I said, throwing my hands up in defeat.

. "You're worth way more than that. We'll f

knock echoed on the door. "Be

ged a quick, loaded glance with Layla, and pitched my

a plate of freshly sliced fruit. She offered us a warm

xt to me, gently brushing a stray lock of ha

ump in my throat and doubled down on the lie. "

t looked at me, her eyes brimming with a profound love mixed with

talk with Layla, she excused herself, saying sh

d her, the atmosphere in the bedroom p

d to the living room, sitting in agonizing silence as

e hospital's online pa

ently as I clicked

ical jargon, my eyes scanning the screen. Every single

hen she reached the final line of the summary, sh

hemotherapy regimen has failed to effectively inh

tely blank. White n

death s

and feet turned to ice, and suddenly, the simp

lling me into a fierce hug, but I just sat t

ntually, I heard a voice break the silence. It sounded foreign, holl

a few weeks ago," I whispered into the dark ro

d her dead in the eye. The numbness was gone, repla

at money, Layla.