The Broken Moon

They said he wouldn't live past the year. So they gave him a wife-not out of love, but to give him someone to die beside. She didn't cry. She didn't run. She married him with empty eyes and a heart full of questions. But what she did next... No one-not even his own family-could've seen it coming. She had never worn a wedding dress before. Not even during childhood games or teenage fantasies. But there she stood now, stiff in a cream gown that felt more like a costume than a promise.

The registrar's office smelled of air freshener and formality, and the silence between her and the man in the wheelchair was thicker than the legal papers on the desk. His name was Mason Carter. Her new husband. Thirty-one years old, dying, and barely able to lift his head. Samantha Blake was twenty-four, perfectly healthy, and very aware that none of this was about love. The ceremony lasted ten minutes. There were no rings, no vows, no kiss-just signatures. His mother, Mrs. Elaine Carter, thanked her with a trembling voice and eyes that refused to meet hers. "You've done a good thing," she said. "You've given him dignity." But Samantha wasn't sure if that was true-or if she'd just signed up to be a witness to death. The ride to the house was silent. Samantha sat in the backseat beside Mason's wheelchair, folded and still. Elaine drove, her hands tight around the steering wheel, and the car moved like it was trying not to disturb the air. The mansion they arrived at was far too big for three people. Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers. A grand piano no one touched. Everything inside screamed wealth, yet nothing felt alive. Samantha was shown to the guest room across the hall from Mason's. "This is just formality," Elaine said with a smile that didn't touch her eyes. "No one expects anything from you. Just... be kind to him. Keep him company. That's all." Samantha nodded. She hadn't asked for this arrangement. She had debts, an eviction notice, and a mother in a care home. When a stranger offered to settle it all in exchange for a paper marriage to a dying heir, it hadn't felt like a choice. It felt like survival. Samantha heard him before she saw him again. A soft, dry cough echoed down the hall in the dead of night. She stepped out of her room, barefoot, and saw the faintest light spilling from under Mason's door. For a moment, she debated walking away-but something made her knock gently. No answer. She pushed the door open slowly. He was awake, staring at the ceiling, eyes dull but focused. For a dying man, he looked oddly aware.