Page 56 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
But she was also asking for the one thing I'd always wanted to give her. A real chance.
"I have a plan," I said carefully. "And I met someone. Someone who might be able to help us both."
Mom turned to look at me. "What kind of someone?"
"It's complicated. I'll explain more once I know for certain." I pulled away from the curb, heading back toward our apartment. "But if it works out, you wouldn't have to worry about money or insurance or finding a place to live during treatment."
"Sadie, what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about someone who made me an offer. A good offer. One that could change both of our lives."
Mom was quiet for the rest of the drive home. When we got back to the apartment, she went straight to her bedroom, exhausted from the day's emotional weight. I heard her moving around, getting ready for bed, but she didn't come back out to say goodnight.
I sat at the kitchen table with my phone in my hands, staring at Harrison's contact information. Sixty-seven days until his deadline. Sixty-seven days to decide whether I was brave enough to marry a man I barely knew for reasons that had nothing to do with love.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I thought about the man at the meeting whose daughter wouldn't speak to him. About Beth, who couldn't see her grandson. About all the ways addiction poisoned relationships, even when recovery was possible.
Then I thought about Harrison. The way he looked at his daughter. The quiet strength in his voice when he'd made his offer. The promise of stability for both me and Mom.
I typed the message quickly, before I could second-guess myself.
Sadie 9:14 PM: If you're serious—and you can help my mother—I'll do it.
My thumb hovered over the send button. Everything in my life felt off-balance. The apartment was too full of my mother's broken promises and my own exhaustion. The fridge was half empty. My chest felt hollow.
I didn't want to be rescued. I'd never wanted to be anyone's charity case or convenient solution.
But I was out of options.
I sent it.
13
HARRISON
The phone rang at eleven fifty-seven, three minutes before my scheduled lunch break. I'd been reviewing enrollment projections with Mrs. Fletcher, the school secretary who'd been patient enough to walk me through decades of institutional knowledge I was scrambling to absorb.
"Harrison Vale," I answered, gesturing for Mrs. Fletcher to stay seated. We weren't finished discussing the spring fundraising calendar.
"Theodore Blackwood here." The executor's voice carried the clipped authority I'd grown to dread. "We need to talk. The board has issued new requirements regarding your engagement announcement."
I set down my pen and focused completely on the call. "What kind of requirements?"
"They're demanding documentation within seven days. A copy of the marriage license, formal identification of the bride, verification of her background and current employment status."
My chest tightened. "The will doesn't specify?—"
"The will specifies a legitimate marriage. The board has the right to investigate whether you're attempting to circumvent thespirit of those terms." Theodore's tone remained professional, but I caught the warning underneath. "They're prepared to challenge the inheritance if they suspect fraud or manipulation."
Mrs. Fletcher looked up from the fundraising materials, her expression concerned. I turned toward the window, lowering my voice.
"How much time do I have?"
"Seven days for preliminary documentation. If they're satisfied with what you provide, the marriage must still occur within the original timeline." Blackwood paused. "Harrison, I feel obligated to tell you—the board is actively looking for reasons to disqualify you. They're not going to make this easy."
I thanked him and hung up, staring at the phone for a moment before turning back to Mrs. Fletcher.
"Bad news?" she asked.
