As I walk down the hotel hallway, I start to second guess myself. Is this really the right thing to do?

I’ve never fallen for anyone as hard as I fell for Ali. And now that she’s here as my wife, I can’t even treat her right, or make up for all the shit that she’s been through. It’s not fair to her.

She makes me remember a younger version of me, one that hasn’t been tainted by the bleakness of reality.

She reminds me of better times….

No, wait. Scratch that.

Just by her being by my side, she’s making the present better. I would've preferred to get to know her again under more normal circumstances, but I can't complain too much. I’m lucky she's even here at all.

When my fucked-up brain came up with this insane plan, I thought I’d have to marry some crazy, unstable girl, who would ultimately screw me over in the worst, most fantastic way possible. There's zero chance that the kind of girl who’d marry me and have my baby for money would be the kind of person who makes good life decisions.

But all this deception is ultimately going to be a good thing. I feel bad for Ali, but there’s no other way. And I have a whole year to make up for it.

I swallow down a lump that has formed in my throat. There’s no use getting all emotional now. I need to be the strong one here.

“Jo!” I exclaim as I knock urgently on the door of her hotel room.

I’ve deliberately placed her on the same floor as me for exactly this reason. There might be an emergency, just like this one.  

“Yeah,” says a weak female voice from inside. She sounds okay—for now. I knew it was a risk to get her out here, but it had to be done, if I wanted to make her think this is a real wedding.

That said, there’s nothing fake about the raging hard-on in my pants. Or those little moans that Ali made. Or the way her body quivered underneath me.

I remember getting to know her tight little virgin body for the first time, and getting pleasantly surprised about how easily she came.

She’s still just as sensitive, just as responsive. And her body has only become sexier with time. She has lost what little baby fat she had, and both her tits and ass have filled out.

The number of times I lay awake at night, conjuring up the delicious little shivers and sounds that she’d made in bed…

And to think I had to end it like that. That’s a shame, but we can pick up where we left off on another day.

Joanne, though—she can’t wait.

The door finally swings open, and a tired, haggard woman appears. She looks like she’s in her forties, but Joanne is actually thirty—only two years older than I am.

Still, considering what she has been going through, it’s only natural that her body hasn’t aged well. That frail body has been assaulted by both her illness and the treatments for that illness.

“Are you okay?” I ask, concerned she’s pushing herself too far to attend “my wedding.”

“Yeah, Zeke. I’m fine. You worry too much.” Joanne smiles weakly, which doesn’t convince me that she’s “fine” at all.

“Do you have the prescription? The pill bottle? Whatever I need to get the medication?” I ask.

“Yeah. It’s right here.” Joanne raises up her bony fingers that are holding a folded piece of paper. “I’m sorry, Zeke. I should’ve remembered to bring everything. I’m being such a bother right now.”

“No, what are you saying?” I frown as I take the prescription. I hate when Joanne acts like she’s just an inconvenience to me, when in reality I’d do anything for the only family member I have. Especially now, when she doesn’t have much time left.

“Come on, Zeke, even you must be able to see how much of a pain I’m being, right?”

“You're talking crazy. I’m not bothered at all.”

“It's your wedding night. You should be with your new wife,” Joanne insists.

“Well, I’ve never been one to follow the rules,” I say, grinning at her.

Just as I expected, Joanne’s expression softens, breaking into a smile. She almost looks as beautiful as she used to be when she smiles like that.

“That's true,” she admits. “But I hate to think about Ali, all alone in bed on her wedding night. I'm sure she has some sexy things planned that you're missing out on.”

“We’ve just literally promised to spend the rest of our lives together. We have plenty of time to catch up.” As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I regret them. Worse, I let that regret show on my face. I can tell by the sadness that descends over Joanne’s pale face.

“We have plenty of time too, Zeke,” she says, forcing a smile. “You know, you don't have to do this yourself. You can get your driver to make the trip instead.”

“Really, Jo, it's okay. I want to do this for you,” I say.

“Thanks, Zeke. You're the best,” she says.

“I know.” I grin, masking the heaviness in my chest.