The Decision no one wants

Chapter 9 

Lexi's POV 

I lasted two days.

Two whole days of pretending my insides weren’t cracking open every second I was awake. Two days of ignoring the business card shoved in the back of my drawer, hoping it might disappear if I just stopped looking at it.

Two days of thinking about $500,000 a month and still hating myself for it.

I didn’t tell anyone.

Not Dan.  

Not Aria.  

Especially not Aria.

Because the moment I said it out loud, it would become real.

So I kept my head down at work, took extra shifts, and bit my tongue every time a customer whispered my name like it tasted like scandal. I smiled, I served, and I acted like I wasn’t drowning.

Dan knew something was up.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just hovered more than usual, sliding extra croissants onto my tray like comfort food could fix whatever was eating at me.

But by the end of the second night, after the dinner rush died down and we were both closing, he finally broke the silence.

“You’re spiraling,” he said quietly, wiping down a counter beside me.

I didn’t respond.

“You haven’t smiled in two days. Not even when I made that guy at table six believe I was a part-time Calvin Klein model.”

I gave him a weak look. “I’m tired.”

“You’re lying.”

I dropped the rag I was using and leaned against the sink, crossing my arms like armor. “Dan, not now.”

“I gave you time. But you’re scaring me, Lex. Two days of you looking like you’ve got ghosts in your chest and war in your eyes. I think now is exactly the time.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he said softly. “You’ve got that look again. The one you had when Aria first collapsed three years ago. Like the whole world is balancing on your chest, and you’re trying to breathe around it.”

I looked away. The lump in my throat was rising again. I hated how easily he saw through me.

“You haven’t been fine since Brandon Freaking Wilson walked into your life like the CEO of Chaos and made everything worse.”

I flinched.

Dan noticed.

He stepped forward, his voice gentler. “Lex… please. Talk to me. What did he do?”

I swallowed hard. “He made me an offer.”

Dan’s jaw tightened. “What kind of offer?”

I looked away. “The kind that fixes everything and ruins everything else.”

“Lexi—”

“He offered to pay for Aria’s surgery,” I said quickly, like tearing off a bandage. “And more. Way more. But it comes with a catch.”

Dan waited.

I swallowed, then said it flatly, like a death sentence. “He wants me to marry him. Fake. For six months. In exchange, he pays for everything: Aria’s transplant, her recovery, her meds. And he’s offering me half a million dollars a month on top of that.”

Silence. For a long time.

When I finally glanced up, Dan wasn’t blinking. “He wants to what?”

“It’s not real,” I said quickly. “Just for show. He didn’t say why he needs it—just that it’s ‘business.’”

Dan’s face darkened. “Are you kidding me? You think this is okay?”

“I never said it was okay.”

“So then say no.”

“I can’t!” I snapped. “You think I want this? You think I like that this is what my life has come to? Being offered a marriage contract like I’m for sale?”

Dan took a step back, as if the weight of the words hit him physically. “Lexi—no. That’s insane. That’s manipulative and disgusting and—”

“I haven’t said yes,” I snapped. “But I might.”

He stared at me. “No.”

“I don’t have a choice, Dan!”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Not when someone you love is dying!”

That shut him up.

Tears pricked behind my eyes, but I forced them down. “I’m so tired of watching her get worse. I’m so tired of counting dollars, splitting pills, and selling hours of my life just to still fall short.”

“There has to be another way, Lexi. You... you can't do that. Yes, we've been teasing you, but that was all talk. This is your life, Lexi, I mean..."

"You think I don't know that? Trust me, I know it's a big mess," I said, flustered.

He stepped toward me. “Then don’t do it.”

I looked him dead in the eye. “Then who’s going to save her, Dan? You?”

He froze. I regretted it the moment it left my mouth.

I shook my head, my voice breaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

But Dan didn’t move away. Instead, he pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

And I broke.

Right there, in the middle of a half-closed coffee shop, I sobbed into his shoulder. Messy, ugly, aching sobs that had nothing to do with Brandon Wilson and everything to do with how helpless I felt.

Dan didn’t say anything. He just held me.

When I finally pulled back, wiping my face with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, I forced a breath through my lungs.

“I’m okay,” I lied.

“You’re not.”

“We need to close up,” I said softly. “I need to go home; Aria’s probably still waiting up for me.”

Dan walked over and wrapped his arms around me again, and I didn’t pull away.

“I’m scared,” I whispered.

“I know.”

We stood there like that, in the middle of a half-clean café, clinging to silence like it was safer than words.

Dan dropped me off afterward and told me to get some rest, reminding me that tomorrow was another day.

The apartment was quiet when I entered. Aria was curled up on the couch, sketching with her legs pulled under her. She looked up the moment I closed the door, and it felt like her eyes already knew everything.

“You’re late,” she said gently.

“Yeah. I got caught up.” I dropped my bag and moved to the kitchen, mostly so I wouldn’t have to look at her.

“Lexi,” she called, “come here.”

“I’m fine, Aria.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You’ve got something on your mind,” she said from the couch.

“No, I don’t.”

“Mana…” Her voice was gentle but firm. “Don’t lie to me.”

I walked over to the living room, and she was already looking at me expectantly.

I hesitated.

Then, like something inside me cracked open, she saw my worry.

She set her sketchbook aside and waited.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” I said, “because I didn’t want you to feel like it was your fault.”

She blinked. “What wasn’t my fault?”

“I might have found a way to pay for everything.”

Aria sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

I dropped my bag on the chair and stood in the middle of our little living room. My throat burned. “I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.”

“Tell me what?”

I looked at her—really looked at her.

Her body was thinner than it should be. Her eyes were tired but still bright. Her hand was still holding a paintbrush as if she weren’t on borrowed time.

And I couldn’t lie to her anymore.

“I might have found a way,” I whispered. “For the surgery. For everything.”

Her face lit up for a second. “Really?! Lex, that’s amazing! How—”

I held up a hand. “It’s... complicated.”

Her smile dimmed. “How complicated?”

I hesitated.

Then I walked over and sat on the couch beside her.

“There’s someone who offered to help.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Who?”

I swallowed hard. “Brandon Wilson.”

“The Brandon Wilson?” she gasped.

I nodded silently.

"But how? Why? I don’t understand. I mean, it’s a lot of money, and he just wants to pay for it? That’s a lot and..."

"Aria, honestly, I still don't know all the details yet, but what I do know is that he made an offer. He wants to fake a relationship—a marriage—for six months. For image, I think. I don’t know why. But in exchange—he’ll pay for everything: the surgery, the recovery, and more. He’s even offering me money too.”

Aria stared at me.

“I didn’t say yes,” I added quickly. “I just— I needed you to know, because it affects you too.”

She was silent for a long time.

Then she whispered, “You’d marry someone you don’t even like… for me?”

“I’d walk through hell barefoot for you,” I said, my voice trembling. “If this saves your life, I’d do it a thousand times.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Lexi... I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me.”

I grabbed her hand. “But I will. I already have. This is just one more thing.”

Her hands were still. Her mouth was slightly open.

“You’re... considering this?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But it’s the only option that feels real.”

She was quiet for a long moment.

Then she said, “I don’t want you to do this for me.”

I tightened my grip on her hand. “But I am.”

She shook her head, tears forming. “Lexi—what kind of life would that be? Pretending to love someone you don’t? Being some rich man’s prop?”

“I don’t care,” I said, my voice breaking. “If it saves you—I don’t care.”

She leaned forward and hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And I did. Enough to risk everything.

Even myself.