Chapter 8

• Fatima's eyes filled with deep perplexity, if she didn't know that Amelia was a woman very uncreative for lies, she would have unthinkingly pointed her out as a liar. The woman stirred, even removed her gloves, her wide eyes riveted on Amelia.
• "No, wait, wait, wait, what the hell?"
• "That was my reaction," Amelia murmured, finishing preparing a coffee, the time to leave that place was coming, immediately she would go to her mother, she needed to read her results at the hospital, she had barely managed to sleep thirty minutes thinking about her mother's illness, "That man came up to me and asked me if I wanted to marry him, if I wanted to be his wife, what kind of madness is that? I had never seen anything like that in my life, besides, he chased me down the street, I almost got run over, he almost got run over, when I finally let him talk, he told me that it was all about a business deal in which I would have to pretend to be his wife in exchange for a few thousand dollars".
• "And you agreed?"
• Amelia stopped making coffee and looked directly into her friend's eyes.
• "How can you ask me that? Of course I didn't accept! I don't even know if he's a real millionaire, I'm not going to get into fraud, Fatima".
• "That car he was driving is from this year, Amelia, he's not a pauper".
• "And what do you want me to do with that information? Fatima, who in their right mind chases a person down the street just to desperately ask her to be his fake wife? For heaven's sake!"
• "How much money did he offer you to marry him?"
• Amelia pondered.
• "About five hundred thousand dollars".
• Fatima opened her eyes in spasm, her lips plagiarized the action.
• "Five hundred grand, Amelia?! And you still refused?!"
• "But are you out of your mind? How on earth could I accept a proposal like that? I don't even know him, I don't know who he is, how could I marry a man I don't know?"
• "Amelia, nobody cares that you don't know him, you're actually going to let five hundred grand go because "it's wrong"? For heaven's sake, Amelia! To hell with what's wrong, that money could change your life, and you're really just going to let it go just like that, like we're not talking about half a million dollars. I'd have to work for about twenty-five years here to get that kind of money, don't you realize what a great opportunity you're missing, Amelia?"
• "Have you lost your damn mind, Fatima? Of course I won't agree to marry a man I barely know! I won't do it, I don't care about the money... I don't even know if he'll give me that money for real, Fatima, it's not normal that a person comes out of nowhere to propose to me to be his wife, it's not ok!"
• "It doesn't matter that it isn't! We're talking about half a million dollars, Amelia! Please wake up!"
• "I've been awake for a while now, my answer is still a resounding no. I will not marry a complete stranger"
• "Well, I would, don't you have his number?" Amelia looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but I won't waste an opportunity like that".
• "I don't have his number, he gave it to me, but I broke it, I barely remember the beginning, but not the end".
• Fatima looked at her, forming a grimace on her face that brought a small smile to Amelia's face.
• "My shift is over," the woman announced, stopping to prepare a coffee and holding up her purse, "See you tomorrow, Fatima".
• "See you later, Ame" Just before the woman left, her friend said to her: "Think well about rejecting that proposal, I don't think you'll ever have the chance to be a millionaire's fake wife again in your life, it's five hundred thousand, I'm just saying".
• Amelia left without saying anything, although she could not deny that the way her friend said it, made it a very seductive proposal. To make the small effort of marrying someone she did not know, and then be paid with a very high amount of money, was a dream for her, at that moment she stopped to think about it, but denied again, no, that was not right, what if that man was just a pervert that once they were both married, would set a trap for her? There were many things she had to consider before accepting a proposal like that, and she was not willing to waste her energy in that way.
• She walked to a cab, into which she got in, pointing it in the right direction and allowing herself to relax until it arrived at the right place. Meanwhile, Amelia lay down carefully, pausing to think. The stress her body had been under since the old phone call with her mother was driving her crazy, unhinged. She had not even been able to eat, hunger had become nothing, sleep had become nothing, physical fatigue was always with her, she knew she had to take better care of herself, she had been trying to look for a second job, but that had not worked: the schedules collided, she had to choose between one and the other, and even though the place where she worked was not the best, she was a faithful fan of the phrase: bad things to know than good things to do. She would not venture into an unknown job, without knowing how unpleasant the colleagues, the bosses, the environment... would be.
• "Drop me here," said Amelia, grabbing her purse, paying for it and rushing out of the cab.
• A tremor ran through her legs, she had a bitter feeling, a feeling that her mother was not completely truthful with what she was saying about her diagnosis, she was hiding a lot of things from her, Amelia was sure of it.
• When she found herself in front of the door, she rang the bell.
• "I'm coming!" She let herself be heard, and only after five slow minutes of desperate waiting, the door was opened, that indicated the first worrying thing to Amelia: her mother had difficulty walking, the woman wailed in a silence so deep that not even her mother could notice.
• "Amelia, precious!"
• A suffocating hug rained down on Amelia, who returned it with a distressed smile on her face. She could not believe that she was in danger of losing the person who gave her those hugs, of losing the loving woman she had as a mother, her heart cried just imagining that.
• "Mom," she greeted her, trying to hide the pain in her voice, "How have you been feeling?"
• "Even, with a little difficulty walking, but everything is fine" she could see in her eyes that she was lying, that she wasn't feeling well, that filled Amelia with a bitter feeling. "Really, Amelia, I'm fine".
• "I want to see the doctor's results," asked the woman, biting her lips, that was the only way she knew to hold back her tears, she hated the bitter feeling that suddenly assaulted her, telling her that what she loved would vanish, that only vestiges of it would remain and would vanish with the blowing of the wind, "I want to see them for myself".
• "Dear, I already told you what the results are..."
• "I want to see them for myself".
• Her mother made no attempt to stop her, she loved her daughter, but stubborn in the end, there was not much she could do to keep her from knowing the truth: her state of health was much worse than what she had revealed in the phone call, but her intentions did not include worrying her daughter, she knew she could get very hysterical from time to time when she worried.
• Amelia walked over to her mother's dining room table, where she saw the opened results envelopes. She took a fleeting glance at them before beginning to read them. Her gesture, which had been drooping from the very first moment, fell further, then her eyes were covered with a deep horror: type two diabetes, fat in the liver, kidneys in their most unfortunate state, high cholesterol, triglycerides... plus cancer, that horrible cancer that was single-handedly killing the woman who gave her life. Amelia felt a sharp pain in her body, the very thought that her mother was lucky to be alive was disturbing, bitter, horrible.
• She turned towards her progenitor, her eyes were covered with thick tears, a tremor shook her body, she almost touched the ground, but she managed to hold himself and the next thing she did was to run towards the woman who had given her life. She closed her eyes tightly, feeling how the skins of both touched, how the embrace acquired more strength, there was no need to say anything, the silence was understandable, they seemed to communicate through it, only after a few minutes of embrace, was that her mother told her:
• "I didn't want to worry you, Amelia... but I'm sick, very sick. My joints hurt too much, my back, my heart..., everything started since your father died, I feel that sadness ended up making me sick... I don't think I'll have too much time left".
• Tears disfigured Amelia's precious face, who like a little girl covered her ears, not wanting to hear what her mother had to say, refusing the idea that she would soon be gone if she didn't help her buy what was required to prolong her stay: insulin, expensive pills, more and more medication... Amelia shook in pain... how could she get the money that would help her keep her mother from dying?
• ***
• After a not too short conversation, Amelia had decided to leave her mother's house and promise once again to get the money, her mother had hesitated, but she had told her to trust, even though she herself, did not trust, and that was her torment, imagining her mother dead, the mere thought sent a shiver down her spine.
• She had decided to walk home, even though an hour's walk separated her from there. Sweat covered her forehead, tiredness gripped her limbs, but she continued walking as she thought about how she could get an exorbitant amount of money in a very short time. She knew the answer to that question, it was the doubts that made her blind to it.
• She opened the door to her house, inserted the keys in the lock and slammed it shut. Seeing her mother sick put her in a very bad mood, but with that attitude she would get nowhere, she told herself, trying to provide herself with some of the motivation she needed. Quiet. Quiet. Silence. That was all it took for an idea to climb through the rubble of her mind, the idea she had been thinking about. The idea that could get her out of that difficult situation.
• She put her bag aside, then sat down on her couch, reached for a pencil and a sheet of paper. She began to memorize what she needed. She told herself she was stupid, that she had acted presumptuously, now there she was, racking her brain to remember something. The numbers kept popping into her head, so jumbled that she could barely put them together. But after exactly one hour of trying to remember, she was sure she had succeeded, so she anxiously picked up her phone and dialed that number. Her trembling fingers showed, she told herself she had to be calm, but it proved useless.
• He rang, rang, rang, nothing. "No one will answer," she said to herself pessimistically, thinking of hanging up, just at that instant was when someone answered.
• "Who is speaking to me?"
• That male voice was heard. Seductive all over, soft and yet so brusque. Amelia was horrified when she found herself thinking that way.
• "It's me... Amelia," she said, taking a deep breath, "The woman you chased down the street..."
• "Yes, I recognized your voice... you are calling me to..."
• She interrupted him.
• "I am calling you because I want to accept your proposal, sir Maximiliano. I will be your fake wife".