Mark stared at his hands, torn between pride and desperation. “You’re asking me to marry a woman I don’t love just to fix our problems.”
“I’m asking you to survive,” she said, her voice trembling. “To save us.”
The next morning, Mark returned to the restaurant.
Eleanor was already there, as calm and composed as before.
“You’ve decided,” she said without looking up from her tablet.
Mark took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”
She gave a faint smile and set the tablet aside. “Good. The arrangements will be made immediately.”
One week later, Mark stood in a small courthouse, dressed in a suit Eleanor had provided. The ceremony was quiet, attended only by Eleanor’s lawyer and a notary.
As they exchanged vows, Mark couldn’t shake the unease in his chest. When the officiant declared them husband and wife, Eleanor turned to him, tears in her eyes and a smile that didn’t quite reach them.
“Welcome to your new life, Mr. Davis.”
As he left the courthouse under the pouring rain, Mark looked at his reflection in a puddle and wondered, “Did I just save my family—or did I sell my soul?”
