My Contract Husband Thinks I'm Dying

"Keep your guard up, Marcus! Your left hand is dropping!"

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and watched as fourteen-year-old Marcus threw another combination at the heavy bag. His form was getting better, but he still telegraphed his punches like he was sending an invitation.

"Better," I called out, glancing at the clock. Six-thirty. Time to wrap up.

The East LA Community Fitness Center wasn't much to look at. Cracked mirrors, patched-up equipment, and a roof that leaked when it rained. But it was home. These kids were my kids, even if most of them couldn't afford real training.

"Alright, everyone! That's a wrap for today."

I started collecting the gloves scattered around the ring when I noticed something that made me freeze.

A man in a perfectly tailored suit stood in the doorway.

Kieran Vale.

My husband.

He looked completely out of place against the peeling paint and worn equipment. His charcoal gray suit probably cost more than my gym made in three months. Everything about him screamed money and power, from his expensive watch to his perfectly styled dark hair.

"Mrs. Vale?" Marcus looked between us, confused. "You know this guy?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice sounding weird even to me. "He's... my ride home."

I grabbed my bag and walked toward Kieran, very aware of how I must look. Sweaty sports bra, old gym shorts, hair falling out of its ponytail. Next to him, I looked like exactly what I was - a girl from nowhere pretending to belong in his world.

"Ready?" he asked. His voice was polite but distant, the same tone he'd use with a business associate.

"Sure."

The ride home was silent, as usual.

I sat in the passenger seat of Kieran's car, watching the expensive neighborhoods blur past.

We'd done this dance for sixteen months now. He'd occasionally pick me up from work, we'd eat dinner in the same house, and we'd sleep in separate bedrooms. Like the world's most expensive roommate situation.

I snuck a glance at him. His jaw was tense, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. Something was off, but then again, Kieran Vale wasn't exactly an open book.

"How was your day?" I asked, because the silence was getting weird.

"Fine."

Typical.

Back at the house - and it was his house, not ours, despite what the marriage certificate said - I headed straight for the kitchen. Our routine was simple: I'd make myself something to eat, he'd disappear into his home office, and we'd successfully avoid each other until morning.

But tonight, Kieran didn't disappear.

Instead, he sat down on the living room couch and just... watched me.

I pulled leftover pasta from the fridge, hyperaware of his eyes on me. This was new. In eighteen months of marriage, Kieran had never shown interest in my evening routine.

"You want some?" I offered, holding up the container.

"No, thank you."

I heated up my dinner and sat down at the kitchen island, expecting him to leave. He didn't.

"Ember."

I looked up, surprised. He rarely used my name.

"How much time do we have left?"

I blinked. "Sorry?"

"How much time is left?"

Oh. The contract. That made sense. Kieran was a businessman, after all. Probably planning ahead, making sure the transition would be smooth when I left.

"About two months," I said, taking a bite of pasta. "Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair soon. I won't cause any trouble when the contract ends."

Something strange happened to Kieran's face. All the color drained out of it, and for a second, he looked like I'd just told him someone died.

"Two months," he repeated quietly.

I nodded, studying his expression. In all the time I'd known him, I'd never seen Kieran look... vulnerable. He was always so controlled, so perfectly composed. But right now, he looked almost scared.

What was going on?

I thought back to sixteen months ago, when this whole thing started. I'd been drowning in debt after Dad's accident, watching the medical bills pile up while Mom got sicker. Fifteen thousand in funeral costs, another hundred grand in debt the insurance wouldn't cover, and Mom's diabetes medication alone was five hundred a month.

I was twenty-three and completely screwed.

Then Kieran's assistant had approached me with the most insane offer I'd ever heard. A marriage contract. Eighteen months, later extended to two years. Eight hundred thousand upfront, another million-two when it ended. All I had to do was play the part of his wife and stay out of his way.

The assistant had been very clear about expectations. "It's purely business," she'd said. "Mr. Vale needs to improve his public image. You provide stability and charity work credentials. Don't get any romantic ideas."

Like I would. Kieran Vale was way out of my league. CEO of Apex Sports Management, one of the most powerful men in professional sports. His clients included Super Bowl winners and Olympic champions. I was a small-town girl whose biggest achievement was making it through community college.

The money had solved everything. Mom's treatment, the debt, even enough left over to start the community center. It was the best deal I'd ever made.

But looking at Kieran now, with that strange expression on his face, I wondered if I was missing something.

"Ember," he said again, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "In these last two months... is there anything you want to do? Anything special?"

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Any dreams you want to fulfill? Places you want to go? Things you've always wanted to try?"

This was definitely new territory. In these months, Kieran had never asked about my dreams or wants. Our relationship was purely transactional.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I guess I've always wanted to travel. See Australia, maybe get that international coaching certification I've been talking about."

Kieran's eyes flickered with something I couldn't identify. Pain? Relief? I couldn't tell.

"What about you?" I asked, because the conversation was getting weird and I needed to fill the silence. "Any big plans for when this is over?"

Instead of answering, he stood up abruptly.

"I should let you finish eating," he said, but he didn't move toward his office like usual.

He just stood there, looking at me with an expression I'd never seen before. Like he was memorizing my face.

"Kieran? Are you okay?"

"Fine," he said quickly. Too quickly. "I'm fine."

But he wasn't fine. Something was very, very wrong.

"Last question," he said as he finally turned to leave. "These next two months... is there anything you've always wanted to do? Any final wishes?"

Final wishes?

What a strange way to put it.

I watched him walk away, my pasta forgotten. Kieran Vale had always been a mystery to me, but tonight felt different. Tonight felt like something had changed, and I had no idea what.

The house suddenly felt very quiet, and very cold.

What had I just agreed to?