Chapter 6

Judy’s POV

The paper in front of me looked simple.

Just white pages.

Black ink.

Clean lines.

But to me, it felt heavier than my whole life.

My eyes stayed on the contract, but my mind was far away.

My hand held the pen, yet it refused to move.

It trembled.

Badly.

I could hear my own breathing, slow and uneven, like I was running out of air. The room felt too quiet, too big, too cold. The sound of the air conditioner suddenly felt loud in my ears.

This was it.

One signature.

One name.

And my life would never be the same again.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to read the bold letters again.

MARRIAGE CONTRACT AGREEMENT

Marriage.

The word made my heart twist painfully.

I laughed softly, but there was no humor in it.

Marriage…

This was never how I imagined it.

I once imagined a white wedding dress, flowers, smiles, and Clark holding my hands, promising to love me forever. I imagined my mother smiling proudly in the crowd, crying happy tears.

But that dream was dead.

Buried.

Crushed.

Now here I was, sitting in a cold law office, about to marry a man I barely knew, for money.

For survival.

For my mother.

My fingers tightened around the pen.

My mother’s face flashed in my mind.

Her weak smile.

Her pale lips.

Her tired eyes trying so hard to look strong for me.

Judy… God will make a way.

Tears burned my eyes.

Was this the way?

Selling my future to save her present?

Then another image replaced it.

Clark.

Standing at the altar.

Kissing Isabella.

Looking happy.

Looking proud.

Like I never existed.

My chest burned.

Five years.

Five years of my life wasted.

I was poor.

Heartbroken.

Alone.

No family wealth.

No backup plan.

No one to save me.

Except this man sitting across from me.

David Jones.

He sat calmly, his back straight, his face unreadable. One hand rested casually on the arm of the chair, the other holding his phone like this was just another normal business meeting.

No emotions.

No hesitation.

Just control.

I wondered how he could be so calm when my whole world was falling apart.

I looked down at the contract again.

One year marriage.

No love.

No emotions.

Divorce after one year.

My lips trembled.

How did my life end up like this? I thought.

I lifted my head slowly.

“Mr David…” my voice came out weak, almost breaking.

He looked up at me immediately.

“Yes?” he said calmly.

There was no impatience in his tone, but no softness either.

Just calm authority.

I took a deep breath.

“There is just one thing I need to know,” I said, my fingers gripping the pen tightly.

He leaned back slightly. “Ask.”

My heart pounded.

“If I sign this contract…” I paused, my voice shaking. “Will my mother be treated immediately?”

The words felt heavy as they left my mouth.

I needed to hear it.

Not later.

Not tomorrow.

Now.

David looked at me quietly.

For a second, I was scared.

Scared he would hesitate.

Scared he would bargain.

Scared he would change his mind.

But he didn’t.

“Yes,” he answered calmly.

Just one word.

Clear.

Firm.

“No delay,” he added. “Her surgery will be done immediately. Best doctors. Best care.”

My breath hitched.

My eyes blurred with tears.

“You promise?” I whispered.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he replied.

Something inside me broke.

Not loudly.

Quietly.

The last piece of resistance in my heart collapsed.

My mother would live.

That was all that mattered.

I looked down at the paper again.

Marriage to a stranger.

A stranger who wanted revenge.

A stranger who saw me as a tool.

But also a stranger who could save my mother’s life.

My hands shook as I moved the pen closer to the paper.

Mom… I thought painfully. How will I tell you this?

How would I tell her that the man she believed I would marry had betrayed me?

How would I tell her that I was now married to someone else?

Someone she had never met.

Someone I didn’t love.

Someone I didn’t know.

Tears rolled down my cheeks silently.

I’m sorry, I whispered in my heart. This is the only way.

My pen hovered over the line.

I closed my eyes tightly.

And signed.

Judy Hale.

The moment the pen left the paper, my heart dropped.

It was done.

No taking it back.

No running away.

No undo button.

I had just signed away my freedom.

My future.

My name.

I slowly placed the pen down.

My fingers felt numb.

David reached for the document calmly and looked at my signature.

His lips curved slightly.

Not a smile.

More like satisfaction.

He picked up his pen and signed his name without hesitation.

Strong strokes.

Confident.

Like this marriage meant nothing more than ink to him.

He closed the file and stood up.

I followed his movement slowly, my legs weak.

Then he looked straight at me.

His eyes were dark and sharp, yet strangely calm.

“From today,” he said firmly, “you are now Mrs Jones.”

The words hit me hard.

Mrs Jones.

Not Judy Hale.

Not Clark’s Judy.

Mrs Jones.

I felt strange.

Like I was standing outside my own body, watching someone else’s life.

I nodded slowly, unable to speak.

My throat felt tight.

“Good,” he continued. “We will register the marriage today.”

Today.

So fast.

So sudden.

He turned to the lawyer. “Proceed with the rest.”

The lawyer nodded respectfully.

I sat there quietly, my mind spinning.

I was married.

Just like that.

No wedding.

No celebration.

No love.

Just survival.

As we stood up to leave, my legs felt weak. I almost stumbled, but I steadied myself.

David noticed.

He didn’t touch me.

But he said calmly, “You should get used to this world quickly, Mrs Jones.”

That name again.

Mrs Jones.

I forced myself to walk.

As we stepped out of the office, sunlight hit my face, but I felt cold.

Very cold.

How will I tell my mother? my mind screamed.

She wanted me married to Clark.

She believed in him.

She trusted him.

How would I look into her weak eyes and tell her I was now married to another man?

A stranger?

Would she be happy?

Or would it break her heart?

Tears filled my eyes again.

I quickly wiped them away.

I couldn’t cry anymore.

Crying wouldn’t change anything.

From today, I wasn’t just Judy.

I was Mrs Jones.

And my life had officially entered a dangerous game.

One year.

One contract.

And a future I couldn’t see.