CHAPTER FOUR: THE BRIDE WHO LOST EVERYTHING

 

"Is this Nicole Brown? You need to come to the hospital immediately. Your mother's condition has deteriorated."

My fingers went numb around the phone. 

"Wh.. what do you mean, deteriorated? I was there earlier. I spoke to her!"

"I'm sorry, Nicole. The medical team is doing everything possible, but you need to come now."

The call ended.

"No." I stood so abruptly that my chair scraped across the floor. "No, no, no."

Ryan rose from his seat. "What's happened?"

"My mother. She's worse." I grabbed my bag, barely managing to get the strap over my shoulder. "I have to go."

"I'll drive you, if you don't mind.” 

"I can get a cab."

"Nicole, you don't have time to argue with me."

Normally, that tone would've made me furious. Right then, I couldn't spare the energy to care.

I nodded, and he grabbed his keys.

For once, money didn't matter. The wedding didn't matter. Ryan Morgan and his inheritance could wait.

I just needed my mother to still be alive when I got there.

***

Ryan drove faster than I'd expected, and I spent the entire journey gripping my phone, willing it to ring with better news.

It didn't.

When we reached the hospital, I practically jumped out of the car before he had stopped properly.

"Nicole!" Ryan called.

I ignored him and hurried inside.

A nurse met me near the ward. The look on her face told me everything before she opened her mouth.

"Where is she?" I demanded.

"She's in her room. The doctor is with her."

I pushed past her.

Mom lay in bed, surrounded by equipment, her breathing shallow and uneven. A doctor stood beside her, speaking quietly to another nurse.

"Mom?"

Her eyelids fluttered.

I rushed to her side and grabbed her hand. It felt so cold.

"Hey, it's me. I'm here."

Her eyes opened slightly, and she looked at me. I tried to smile, but my face wouldn't cooperate.

"What happened?" I asked the doctor. "You said you'd try to stabilize her. You said…,"

"We did everything we could, Nicole. Her heart is failing, and we're unable to reverse the deterioration."

"No. There has to be something else. Another treatment, another doctor. I'll find the money. I'll do whatever you need me to do."

"I'm sorry."

I hated those words.

Everyone kept saying they were sorry, as if that could somehow make this less real.

I turned back to Mom. "Don't listen to them, okay? You're going to be fine. We'll figure this out."

Her fingers moved weakly against mine.

"Nicole..."

"I'm here, Mom."

She tried to speak, but her voice was barely a whisper. I leaned closer, desperate not to miss a single word.

"You've... tried so hard."

Tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Don't do that. Don't talk like you're leaving me."

She looked at me with the same gentle expression she'd worn whenever I was little and afraid of something I couldn't explain.

"I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, too. So much. Please, Mom. Please stay."

Her grip loosened.

The monitor beside the bed changed its rhythm. The doctor moved quickly, calling instructions to the nurses, but I couldn't make sense of anything anymore.

I kept holding her hand.

"Mom?"

No answer.

"Mom, look at me."

The doctor continued working, but I knew. Somewhere deep inside, I knew.

Still, I couldn't stop begging.

"Please. Please, don't leave me."

Then the room went quiet.

The doctor lowered his hands.

"I'm sorry, Nicole. She's gone."

I stared at him.

Gone?

No. Mom couldn't be gone. I'd spoken to her that morning. She'd complained about the hospital food and told me to stop skipping meals.

She'd been here.

She'd been right here.

I bent over her hand, pressing it against my cheek.

"Mom, wake up."

Nothing.

I didn't know how long I stayed like that. I only knew that at some point, someone touched my shoulder, and I jerked away.

"Don't," I whispered.

The person stepped back.

I couldn't bear anyone touching me. I couldn't bear anyone speaking. Most of all, I couldn't bear the silence where my mother's voice should have been.

I'd spent months trying to save her. I'd worked until my body ached, counted every dollar, and convinced myself that if I tried hard enough, I could somehow fix everything.

Now she was gone.

And I hadn't been able to do a single thing to stop it.

***

Third Person POV

Ryan stood outside the room, watching Nicole through the open doorway.

He had never known what to do with grief. His instinct was to act, to find a problem and solve it. He could arrange payments, hire specialists, and make calls that would have most people waiting for weeks.

But he couldn't bring Nicole's mother back.

He approached her cautiously after the medical staff stepped away.

"Nicole..."

She didn't look up.

"I can take care of the hospital expenses and the arrangements. Whatever you need, I'll make sure it's handled."

She gave a small, broken laugh.

"What I needed was for her to live."

Ryan fell silent.

For the first time since making his proposal, he had no answer ready.

He glanced at the contract folder in his hand. He'd brought it along, thinking they'd finalize everything after the hospital call. Now the paper felt almost obscene.

He could tell her the deal was off. She didn't owe him a marriage because her life had fallen apart.

But before he could speak, Nicole wiped her cheeks and looked at him.

"Please, just give me a little time alone with her."

Ryan nodded.

"Of course."

He left without another word.

***

Nicole's POV

I stayed beside Mom until the nurses gently explained that they needed to prepare her.

I kissed her forehead and whispered goodbye, though the words felt impossible to say.

When I finally stepped into the hallway, Ryan was waiting.

I had almost forgotten he was there.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

I nodded because I didn't trust myself to speak.

He held out a bottle of water. I took it, mostly because my hands needed something to do.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"That's up to you."

I looked at him.

"The contract," he continued. "You don't have to sign it. I won't hold you to anything we discussed."

For one brief moment, I considered walking away.

I could leave the contract unsigned, return to my apartment, and figure out what came next. I could grieve without worrying about pretending to be someone's wife.

But then what?

My mother's treatment bills wouldn't disappear with her. Neither would my rent, my living expenses, or the debts I'd struggled to manage.

I had no plan. No family waiting to catch me. No one who could suddenly make my life easier.

The money wouldn't bring Mom back. I knew that.

But it could give me a chance to rebuild the life I'd spent years putting aside for her.

"I'll sign it," I said.

Ryan studied my face. "Are you sure?"

"No. But I'm doing it anyway."

He didn't argue.

I took the contract from him, found the page marked for my signature, and signed my name.

Nicole Brown.

My hand shook, but the letters were clear.

*** 

Two days later

The wedding happened sooner than I could process.

I wore a simple white dress and stood beside Ryan before an officiant, surrounded by people who had no idea that I'd spent the previous day saying goodbye to my mother.

Ryan looked calm in his dark suit. I wondered if he was thinking about his inheritance, his grandfather, or the year we'd just agreed to spend pretending to be married.

I couldn't ask.

When it was time for the vows, I repeated the words I'd been given. Ryan slipped a ring onto my finger, and I did the same for him.

Then the officiant smiled.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Everyone applauded.

I heard the sound, but it seemed to come from somewhere far away.

I was married.

My mother was dead.

And somehow, the world expected me to keep moving as if those two things could exist together without breaking me.

After the ceremony, the photographer positioned us for pictures. Ryan took my hand, and I forced myself to stand beside him.

"Smile, Nicole," he murmured without looking at me. "Everyone is watching."

I turned toward him, my lips trembling as I tried to obey.

Then the photographer raised his camera.

"Beautiful! Now, let's have a kiss between the newlyweds."

Ryan turned to face me.

He leaned closer.

My breath caught.

I'd agreed to marry him. I'd signed the contract. But I'd never agreed to let him pretend this marriage was real in ways I wasn't prepared for.

And now, with everyone watching, I had no idea what to do.