The billionaire’s contract bride

Lena’s POV

The bill was left on the kitchen table when I came home and I knew it was bad before I picked it up.

Bills had a way of announcing themselves without making a sound.

I stood in the doorway, still wearing the cheap black shoes I bought for my second job, my feet aching so badly that every step felt like a punishment. My bag slipped from my shoulder and landed on the floor.

For a few seconds, I just stared at the white envelope. Then I whispered, "Please." My stomach dropped and my heart pounded harder.

I didn't know who I was talking to, myself, maybe the universe, or maybe anyone who might be listening.

I walked to the table and picked up the envelope. My hands were already shaking.

"Not tonight," I whispered to myself. "Please don't be tonight,” I added. I opened it.

My eyes moved over at the numbers and then I stopped. My stomach dropped.

I glanced through it again. The amount was even higher than the last bill and I sat down slowly.

"No,” I said softly.

I pressed my fingers against my forehead. My mother's treatment had already swallowed almost everything I had, my savings were gone, the small amount I had borrowed from a friend was nearly finished, my credit card was close to its limit, and now this is another bill. Another number I couldn't possibly pay.

Suddenly, I heard movement from the hallway, so I quickly folded the paper. “Lena?" A voice echoed once. I looked up.

My mother stood at the entrance to the kitchen, one hand resting against the wall and she looked so tired, too tired.

Her face had become thinner over the past few months, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes that makeup couldn't hide anymore.

"What are you doing, Lena?" she asked quickly. “Nothing mum,” I replied softly.

She gave me a look mothers had perfected long before their children learned how to lie.

"Nothing?" She repeated. The words echoed in my head knowing too well I have lied to her but she controlled herself as a mother she is and I was just busy checking the mail as if my mind was there anymore.

"You came home an hour ago,” she said politely. I glanced at the clock, and she was right. I barely noticed how long I had been sitting there.

"You look exhausted," she murmured. "I'm fine,” I replied softly. "Lena,” she said one more time. "I'm fine, Mom,” I repeated.

She slowly walked toward me, I smiled faintly, but it was the same smile I had been giving her for months. The one that said everything was under control, and then the one that lied too.

She pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down. "Did they send another bill?" She asked calmly. My heart tightened. "No,” I said quickly.

She stared at me once, and I looked away. "Lena,” she said repeatedly. "Mom, please,” I muttered. "How much?" She asked curiously. "It's nothing, mum,” I said quietly. "How much?" She asked again.

I swallowed. "Just another statement,” I finally said. Her eyes softened. "How much?" She asked vigorously again.

She sighed. "I knew it,” she said softly. "It's handled mom,” I said quietly. "How?" She asked again. "I'll handle it.” I replied softly. “With which money?" She asked. I forced a laugh.

"I have money mom,” I responded softly. “Don't lie to me,” she said calmly. "I'm not lying to you mom,” I said. "You've been working two to three jobs,” She murmured. Immediately I was startled, how did she get to know or have anyone told her before now. "Only for a little while although,” I said softly.

"Lena, you can't keep doing this,” she said calmly. "I'm fine mom,” I murmured. "You just said that because I am your mother and am yet to regain myself from illness,” she said quietly.

"No, you're not sick any longer mom, you are fine now I believe,” I said.

Her voice cracked, and that hurt me more than the bill. I reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

"Mom, look at me,” I said. "I'm okay,” I added. "You look like you're going to fall asleep sitting up,” she whispered. "I'll sleep later mom,” I murmured. "You said the same yesterday,” she said softly.

"I'll sleep tonight I promise,” I said. “You said the same thing last night,” she dragged. I smiled weakly. "Then I guess I'm being consistent,” I said quietly. She didn't smile. Instead, tears gathered in her eyes. I hated that and I hated seeing her cry because of me.

"Please don't cry mom," I whispered. "You shouldn't have to do this,” she said. "I'm your daughter and I need to see you are fine,” I said. "That doesn't mean you have to destroy yourself for me,” she murmured.

"I'm not destroying myself mom,” I said. The words echoed in my head for a few seconds and that almost hit me harder than I expected. For a moment, I couldn't speak.

She squeezed my hand. "You used to dream for a better tomorrow,” she said softly. "I still do mom,” I muttered.

I opened my mouth, and nothing came out, she looked at me very closely and I looked down at our hands. "I just need some time,” I said quietly. "For what?” She asked furiously. “To fix everything,” I responded politely.

"You can't fix everything alone,” she insisted. "I have to mom,” I dragged.

"Why?" She asked very quickly. “Because nobody else was coming to help,” I replied gently. I paused but after a while, I smiled again and then she gave a small faint laugh through her tears. "There is something I need to tell you mom,” I said softly. I squeezed her hand.

"Look mom, I'm still myself,” I said calmly. "Promise me something,” she said. "What?" I asked consciously. “Don't let my illness become your whole life,” she murmured. I looked at her once. "I can't promise that mom, you are my mother for crying out loud,” I muttered.

"Lena,” she said furrowing her eyes. "I can't,” I repeated. She shook her head. "You're just twenty-six,” she whispered. "I know mom,” I said.

"You should be thinking about your own future,” she said quietly again. "My future can wait,” I said softly. "No,” she insisted. "It can, sweetheart,” I dragged. It can't,” she said.

I looked away before she could see my eyes filling up with tears. She reached across the table and touched my cheek. "You deserve happiness my daughter,” she whispered.

I swallowed hard.

"You're going to get better soon, mom,” I murmured. She smiled faintly with tears. "You always say that,” she said. "Because it's true,” I whispered.

"How do you know?" She asked quietly. "Because I do believe it every moment,” I responded softly. "And if I'm not?" She said, "You will be fine mom,” I replied calmly. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Stop, Lena. Please stop,” she said quietly. I took a shaky breath. "I need you to believe me,” I murmured. She watched me for several seconds and then she nodded slowly. "Okay,” she whispered.

I forced another smile. "I'll take care of the bill,” I said quietly. She didn't answer.

"Mom?" I said. “Okay,” she responded. "I promise,” I added. She nodded again. But I knew she didn't believe me, and I couldn't blame her, because I didn't believe myself either.

After she went back to bed, I returned to the kitchen and the house became painfully quiet. I unfolded the bill again, the number stared back at me, I opened my banking app, and my balance made my chest tighten. I checked it twice, as if the numbers might change and increase, but it didn't.

I had enough for rent, enough for food, barely enough for transportation, but nothing left for other medical bills.