The Perfect Marriage Fraud

The Proposal

"She got into an accident," Camilla sighed into the phone, rubbing her forehead. There was a pounding sensation disturbing her greatly and despite the number of aspirins she had taken that day, it did nothing to ease the pain. "They also have to do surgery on her brain, Paige the bills are too expensive for me to afford!" Camilla groaned.

"I thought you got a new job with decent pay?" Paige asked.

"Yeah, and that starts in three days. It will take a while before I get my first paycheck and it can't even cover it."

"Shit," Paige whistled. "You're screwed. Honestly, I wish I had money to give you but I am beyond poor."

"It's cool really," Camilla replied, taking a sip of her coffee. It was the fifth one she was taking that day. If she was someone who drank alcohol, Camilla was sure that she'd have been very drunk or passed out. "I just needed to rant to you. I think I might take out loans for this and work extra jobs."

"Work extra jobs?"

"Yeah. I end work by 5:30, I can take an extra job in the evenings."

"I don't think you'd see one other than being a waitress or bartender and those don't pay," Paige snorted. "Look at my life, I'm poor!"

"Right..."

"Hey, you could be a stripper," Paige suggested. "Sorry, that was insensitive of me to say."

"It's cool," Camilla sniffed. "I'm just so confused and terrified of what will happen. I need to give her the best. She has done so much for me and..." Camilla broke off into a sob. The emotions were quite overwhelming for her.

"Hey, you're going to be okay," her best friend said in a soothing voice. "Hey, is it possible that you can ask for an advance payment from your workplace?"

"I don't think that's possible." Camille took another sip of coffee. "I'm new there and it won't look good also."

"Yeah, that's true."

Camilla wiped her teary eyes. She didn't want to be much of a burden to her friend. "Goodnight Paige. You're supposed to be working."

"Hey, screw work! I'm here for you," Paige said in an encouraging tone but Camille shook her head.

"You have to work, goodnight."

She ended the call and hit her head on the table in frustration repeatedly. Then, she pressed her face against the window and let torrents flow from her face.

The night was still quite young and lots of people were out on the streets. An old woman and her young daughter laughed as they passed by, holding hands which made her more emotional than she was. She wished she could be there with her mother doing the same thing.

Her mother had been involved in a car accident four days ago that made her slip into a coma. She had sustained severe injuries that had been treated and after that, they discovered she had an aneurysm that needed urgent operation.

The medical bills were a lot and she was not even close to paying half of it. She has been devastated after discovering her mother cancelled her health insurance because she never fell sick. The hospital was also not going to go further with treatments if they did not receive another deposit which made her worried.

If they didn't continue with treatment, then her mother was doomed. She had to make sure she got the money before the day scheduled for the surgery but at this point, there was almost nothing she could do except pray for a miracle.

She has taken out a lot of loans as it were and really couldn't afford to take out another one.

Logan could not help but overhear the phone conversation of the beautiful lady who was adjacent to him. He could feel the frustration emanating from her and honestly, he did not know what possessed him to walk up to her.

"Hey," he said, pulling out the chair opposite her.

She raised her head and wiped her tears hastily. "Hi," she sniffed. "How may I help you?"

"That question is kind of tricky," whistled Logan, leaning forward on the table. He smiled at her softly, finding the way her messy long black hair framed her face attractive. Her green eyes were puffy from the tears she had been crying. "I don't know who actually needs help between you and me?"

"Excuse me?" Camilla was confused and her coffee-drenched brain could not process what he was saying. "Sorry," she sniffed again. "I'm confused."

"I don't know who needs help between the both of us," Logan repeated. "I might be the one, you might be the one. Or maybe both of us need help."

"What's with the epistle?" Asked Camille. She was quite annoyed at the stranger. She studied his physical appearance briefly. He wore an Armani suit and had a Rolex on his wrist. He was handsome with his dark-coloured hair and dark eyes, his little facial hairs made him look more masculine and handsome. "Trust me, you don't need help."

"Why do you say so?" He asked with a raise of his eyebrows. "Is it because I'm not bawling my eyes out in the middle of a cafe? Or because ‘I need help’ isn't written on my forehead?"

"Excuse me?" Camille scoffed, her irritation was growing. "How dare you?" She raised her hand to hit him across the face, unable to control her temper. Logan however was fast enough to hold it before it got to his face.

"Hey, don't let your emotions control your actions," he said in a soft voice. "I know you're dealing with shit that's why you're acting out."

Camilla was struggling to get her hands away from his. She stared into his eyes with hatred but somehow, that hatred melted and butterflies roamed her stomach. She could feel a crackle of electricity pulsate as his hand still held hers.

"Why don't you marry me and all your problems will be solved?" He said, still holding onto her hand.