Chapter 1: Divorce Agreement 

*Amelia*

I couldn't hold back my tears as I took another glance at what was written on the document I was holding. Six months, that's all I had left to live. I have been diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA), the same terminal illness that took the life of my mother three years ago.

For a very long time, I have known that the illness was hereditary, but the last thing I had imagined was also having it.

"Ma'am, we are here already," the voice of the taxi driver sounded from the front seat, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Ooh, a minute please," I said to the taxi driver as I quickly wiped away the tears on my face, and afterwards I arranged the documents I was holding inside my bag, and with that I paid the taxi driver before getting down and making my way into the mansion where I was leaving.

Getting into the sitting room, I was surprised to see Adrian, my husband, sitting on the couch while manipulating his phone.

"Hey, you are back already," I said to him with a surprised tone, as this wasn't the time he usually came back home, but instead of replying, he shot me a cold glare before turning his gaze towards the centre table where a document was lying with a pen, and with that, he pushed it towards me and muttered, "Sign it." 

Not knowing what was written on the document, I walked towards the table to get a proper look at it, and that was when I got the shock of my life. The document he was asking me to sign was a divorce agreement with his signature already on it.

"So you are divorcing me?" I asked him, not believing my eyes.

"Yes, of course, or the name on the divorce agreement – isn't it yours?" He asked me with a cold tone.

"It's because of her, right?" I asked him, and with that he scoffed angrily at me, as he already knew who I was talking about.

I had seen both of them on the television yesterday, him and his ex-girlfriend Melissa, who was no other person than my stepsister. 

He had accompanied her to her press conference, where she announced her return to the modelling world after being out of the country for almost three years.

Seeing the way he was holding her during the press conference, I couldn't help but feel jealous; after all, that was the same way he always held me when we were in public.

Coming back home, I had confronted him about it, but he immediately reminded me of something I had almost forgotten about, which was the contract I had signed the day we got married.

Yes, unlike married couples who get married to each other out of love, we only got married to each other because that was what needed to be done at that moment to save the reputation of both families from a very serious scandal that could have ruined both families.

Love was never part of the agreement we signed, and I never made the mistake of expecting that from him at the beginning, but as years went by, I began believing that the agreement no longer mattered due to how real his care felt.

No matter how busy he was, he never missed an occasion when I needed him, even without reason. He always made sure his assistant carried my medicine so I wouldn't be unwell around him.

Whenever he instructed the chief, he only cared about my preferences – whatever I liked, he would eat anything.

With the way he cared for me, it was impossible not to believe that he loved me.

But all that illusion shattered yesterday when I confronted him about how he was holding Melissa, my stepsister, during the press conference. Not only did he remind me about the contract I had signed, which was expiring this year, which was the third year since we got married, but he also made sure to clarify the reason behind his care for me, which I had misunderstood.

My stepsister had taught him how a man should treat his wife; he always prepared the medicines because she usually fell sick just like me. Even after she left, he never told his assistant to stop. As for the food, taste was never important to him. So in other words, he had done everything he had done for me for the past three years so that he wouldn't forget what my stepsister taught concerning how a man should treat his wife.

Now that she has come back, he wanted me to make way for her, not just because our contract has ended but because she has always been the one in his heart all this while.

"You don't have to worry," his voice sounded, snapping me back to reality. "I will make sure to compensate you for all the time you have wasted with me since all this while, so feel free to ask for whatever you want as compensation," he said to me, reminding me that all the three years we had spent together meant nothing to him; it was nothing else but a waste.

Hearing what he had just said, I couldn't help but smile bitterly as I felt my heart shattering into many pieces. I should have known; I should have stuck to the agreement, because if I had done that, I wouldn't be feeling the pain I was feeling right now because someone who didn't have any single feeling towards me was divorcing me. The only pain I could have been feeling right now was the pain of knowing that I was going to die very soon.

Looking him straight in the eyes, I repeated the only word which had made sense to me in what he had just said.

"Anything?" 

"Yes, anything," he said in reply. "As long as it's in my power, I will give it to you as compensation for the time you have wasted with me.

“Can we just live as a real married couple for one more month? After that, I’ll be gone for good.” I asked him while staring into his eyeballs.

"What?" He asked me as his face contorted in confusion.