The billionaire's Paper Wife

Amelia's gaze never left the doctor’s as he continued to spill medical jargon, his voice fading in and out drowned by the sound of her own beating heart as her breath hitched in her throat.

Cancer! Did he just say lung cancer?

“Miss… Miss are you listening… Miss Amelia!” the doctor tapped his finger on the office table.

A muscle twitched in the lid of Amelia’s eyes, and her gaze shifted to the tapping fingers, then back at the doctor. She blinked a couple of times ridding herself of the pain of her long stare.

“I’m listening, doctor, please continue”

The doctor retrieved his fingers, leaning forward instead, resting his hands on his office table.

“Miss Amelia, I know this is hard for you,” he started his voice, kind and comforting “But do pay attention to what I say as it concerns the patient's life” The doctor rested his back down on his seat having made his point clear. A gentle warning, to her abated mind.

“Okay... I understand doctor, how is my mother? Is there any other way than surgery?”

“No… I’m afraid not, she’s close to the 4th stage of the disease and the functional capacity of her lungs keeps deteriorating, her only option is to get the surgery done and start radiotherapy at the earliest”

Amelia’s heart wrenched going up to her throat, as sparks of sweat came at the palm of her hands. “Ah… I see…” her voice came out in whispers—a hallowed breath.

“Thank you doctor” Amelia rose out of her seat to leave the doctor’s office.

“Miss…” the doctor called, and she turned back to stare, her vapid gaze seemed to ignite pity in him.

“I’ll say this once more, your mother doesn’t have much time, and with her body frail due to Malnutrition, it’s better to act fast, while she still can do the surgery”

Amelia gripped her fist tight, and her nails dug at her palms, again the doctors’ words faded in and out—barely present as is.

She looked away, biting down at her lower lip, her eyes seemed to water from the force, but it did keep her from trembling.

“Yes doctor” her voice reserved, then she walked away, her stride short and quiet. Closing the door of the doctor’s office.

Outside the office, Amelia straightened her back to view the listless movement of people walking in and out of the hospital, her eyes seemed to hurt her the longer she stared.

Why! Why! Why! Do bad things keep happening to her family?

Her chest tightened a visible pain she ignored as sparks of cold sweat came at her forehead.

Amelia breathed in deeply, taking as much breath as she could, then she exhaled with a whoosh of her lips.

There was no point standing there… she could not solve anything if she did. Amelia walked away; her mind was a mess. She joined the crowd of listless people.

Reaching the door of her destination, she knocks softly, then enters not waiting for a response.

Inside Amelia sees her mother on an I-V drip, propped up against a stack of pillows, her mother turned her gaze to her—she looked pale and worn out.

“How was it? What did the doctor tell you” Her mother's raspy voice grated on her ears.

Amelia took slow strides to her mother lying on the hospital bed

“It’s surgery or nothing else” She sat on the stool beside the bed,

“And what did you say?” her mother asked quietly, not meeting Amelia’s gaze “T-to the doctor I mean.”

“What could I say? … I said nothing.”—I couldn’t say anything.

The room fell into deafening silence all the more suffocating, and Amelia’s gaze caught the birds at the window beside her mother, as they soared through the clear Skies—how would it feel like to be one of those birds, flying in the clear sky... so free.

“... it’s fine we’ll figure out something, call Bobby, I’m sure he’ll lend us some money—Yes! Yes! Yes! He will!” excited her mother stretched out her hands to grab hers, the simple action straining her.

“W-will you go Ame?... if it's you he’ll surely lend us some, then... then” desperate her mother struggled to form words “... then, take the money to Peter’s place, you know how lucky I am, we could double it—no triple it, and be sure to pay for the surgery, oh my God” her mother squeezed her hands “this could work Amelia”

Her mother coughed persistently, then breathed heavily. Amelia pulled her hands from her mother's, and her mother's hand went to the lips coughing out blood, gasping for air.

Seeing this Amelia didn’t know what to feel as at the moment her emotions rose all at once with each second that passed—ahhhh… she hated this... she hated this so much.

A few moments passed and her mother finally found to breathe easier.

“You are still thinking of gambling again mother? Even now at the hospital, do you still think everything can be solved if you just borrowed; and gambled on more money?” she all but screamed.

“What do you mean Amelia, don’t talk to me that way.”

Amelia gripped her fist, evening her breath—but it didn’t help with her emotions as they spiraled out of control.

“Enough Mother! You are incorrigible,” Amelia stood up sharply “Stacking debt; paying debt with more debt, do you ever think of me! Of Tina…” she whispered the last bit.

“Amelia... Davis, do not... talk to me that way, I’m still your mother”

her mother breathed rapidly, as her emotions spiraled as well. “You have to see it from my side, else you won’t understand.”

“Mother!” Amelia snapped

And it started again, her mother coughing blood, and breathing heavily so much worse than before, and she went to press the button to call for a nurse.

The nurse came in and checked on her mother giving her a shot which eases and calms her. Amelia sighed in relief.

“Keep her calm at all times, don't do anything that would cause the patient to feel agitated as it may induce a fit” The nurse leaves the hospital room after saying that.

There was no way of getting through to her mother was there?

She turned to leave having had enough of this, then paused to face her mother.

“That a day like this would come… would father be happy…” Amelia asked quietly.

Her mother did not respond, her gaze closed focused only on breathing.

Amelia turned once more to leave, and her mother whispered “I don’t know how to face him if I did… What to say when he asks me... pls Amelia, I don’t want to die”

...

Damn it! she shouldn’t have said that. Amelia rests her forehead at her mother’s door. What does she do now? She shouldn’t have brought father into this, not like this.

She beat herself up—guilt weighing on her.

At the spur of the moment, she reached for the knob, about to go in and apologize, grasping it tightly but yet not opening it.

Amelia bit at her lower lip, closing her eyes to stop the bitter tears that seemed all too keen on standing in her way.

If only her mother had thought twice, before gambling… ruining her lungs with the smoke of others and from hers.

The tears just kept coming as they fell off her cheek, on second thought she couldn’t let her mother see her this way—she had to get her bearings first.

She let go of the doorknob, then took strides to look for the restroom, getting lost somewhat as it was her first time using the hospital toilet—all units just looked the same.

Finally found a restroom, Amelia locked herself in a toilet cubicle, and let loose all that she felt, letting the anguish she felt pour out of her as she quietly drowned in her own misery.

Watching her mother that way was nothing short of painful for her—and there was no shortage of where her pain came from.

There was once a time when they had it all when any problem would be solved with just the right amount... but now they had nothing and couldn’t do anything… it was all in the past.

Fourteen years of happiness of wealth... all gone, and ten years of hellish living, scraping for the most basic of things.

It was as if those fourteen years never truly existed, and all she’d ever known was this hell, it had been her reality—this was crushing even for her.

Finally getting some of her bearings and running out of tears to cry Amelia came out of the cubicle, heading for the faucet.

At the mirror she locked gazes with herself, staring at swollen eyes, dry lips, and wrinkled brows... not to mention the clothes she wore— scary... nothing like the little girl she once was.

Instead, it was a washed-up twenty-four-year-old adult she looked at, with responsibilities that seemed to choke her at every breath.

She was tired of this.