After He Faked Our Marriage, I Was Matched to the Perfect Man

To combat plummeting birth rates, the government had passed a new law: any unmarried citizen over thirty would be forced into a government-matched marriage.

I'd been married to Lance James for nearly a year, so when the City Clerk's Office called, my first instinct was disbelief.

You must have the wrong person.

The clerk's tone was certain.

"Our system shows you as unmarried."

"This concerns a major life decision. We verify personal records multiple times. There's no mistake."

I hung up in a daze, dug the marriage certificate out from the bottom of my suitcase, and rushed to the City Clerk's Office.

The clerk saw through it at a glance.

"This is a forgery. The official seal is fake."

As I turned to leave, they called after me.

"The match our system selected for you has already been sent. You have two days. Be here on time to collect your certificate."

The fake marriage certificate was destroyed right in front of me, reduced to a pile of ash.

My throat tight, I asked to look up Lance James's marital status.

The clerk's fingers clattered across the keyboard, then turned the screen to face me.

Married.

Spouse: Caroline Harding.

Date of registration: eight months ago. The exact same date printed on my forged certificate.

The day I'd taken that certificate from his hands, Lance must have watched me smile like a fool, spinning in the palm of his hand the whole time.

A chill swept through my entire body. The room tilted.

By the time I came back to myself, I was standing at our front door.

Lance James sat on the couch, his voice as gentle as any other evening.

"Where'd you go? Why are you back so late?"

My eyes were bloodshot. I walked up and slapped him across the face.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"Why her?"

He froze for a moment, then a strange, unreadable smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He caught both my wrists and pulled me, trembling with fury, into his arms.

He already knew exactly what I was asking about.

"Caroline isn't as bad as you make her out to be."

Every ounce of strength drained from my body.

One breezy sentence. That was all it took to erase everything I'd suffered.

But when I'd passed out crying at my mother's funeral, when Caroline's little gang of followers had cornered me against a wall and beaten me, Lance had held my hand and sworn an oath.

"Your enemies are my enemies, Ruth Harding. I will always have your back."

I'd believed him. Every word.

Now he stood in front of me, and when he said Caroline's name, his eyes held a tenderness that cut me to the bone.

I wanted to grab him by the collar and demand to know when it started. I wanted to ask what else he'd lied about.

But all I could do was dig my nails into my own fingertips and force myself to stay calm.

If I could find someone to register with within three days, the government match would be canceled.

Other than Lance, I had no one.

I wiped my tears and felt a desperate spark of hope flare in my chest.

"Could you... could you divorce her?"

He let out a low laugh and reached over to tap the tip of my nose.

"Now's not the time to throw a tantrum."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but his finger pressed against my lips.

"Caroline is pregnant. I have to give her that security."

"Don't worry. Once the baby's born, we'll divorce immediately."

"Ruth, just wait for me a little longer."

I swayed on my feet, shaking my head through blurred tears, wanting to tell him there was no more time.

In three days, I would be married to a complete stranger.

But my throat felt stuffed with cotton. I couldn't get a single word out.

Lance kept talking.

Now that everything was out in the open, he seemed to figure he had nothing left to lose.

"Caroline's in her third trimester. She's been living alone, and I don't feel right about that."

"I'm bringing her here tomorrow."

The last pretense had been ripped away. He didn't even bother hiding it anymore.

The next day, he did exactly as he said.

Caroline's belly was swollen high and round, her face glowing with undisguised delight.

When her gaze met mine, a provocative smile curled across her lips.

"Hey, sis. Which room am I sleeping in?"

Sis. Two syllables. Enough to make me grind my teeth to dust.

I would never forget the day she and my stepmother first came to our house. The sun had been bright, and she had called me sis in that same sugary voice.

Then, moments later, my mother became a pool of blood on the lawn below.

"Ruth, remember to keep your eyes open from now on. Don't end up like me."

She said those words. Then she jumped, right in front of me.

After that came the nightmares. Endless, unrelenting nightmares.

And now, here stood Caroline, clinging to my husband's arm, standing in my home, smiling at me with that same provocation in her eyes.

"Sis, the guest room's a little small. I'd rather have the master bedroom."

No one waited for my answer.

The moment the words left her mouth, Lance waved his hand, and a team of workers swarmed in, hauling my belongings out of the master bedroom one by one.

Everything crashed and scattered across the floor.

He held Caroline by the arm, guiding her carefully to the edge of the bed, making sure she was settled.

The jade bracelet on the nightstand caught Caroline's eye.

The jade was luminous, well cared for, clearly treasured.

She picked it up and turned it over in her fingers. Then, as if her hand had simply slipped, she let go.

I was already running before I realized it, lunging forward to catch it, but I was a step too late.

The sound of jade shattering exploded in my ears.

I stood with my head bowed. Tears fell, one by one, hitting the floor.

A blinding rage surged through me. I swung my arm toward Caroline.

"That was the only thing my mother left me!"

But before I could get close, Lance stepped forward, seized my arm, and shoved me backward.

I fell hard, landing in the pile of broken shards. The jagged pieces bit into my palms, and blood welled up instantly, pooling between my fingers.

This was the same Lance who used to fuss over the tiniest paper cut on my hand, blowing on it for ages. Now he just furrowed his brow and spoke in a tone so casual he might as well have been deciding what to have for dinner.

"It's just a bracelet. I'll take you to buy a nicer one next time."

"Lashing out at Caroline over something like that isn't worth it."

I picked myself up off the floor and carefully gathered the blood-smeared shards into the hem of my shirt.

But one of the workers stumbled, his elbow catching me square in the back. The fragments spilled across the floor all over again.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. I collapsed to my knees and sobbed, broken and heaving, my face pressed against the cold floor.

After everything that had happened, I came down with a high fever that night.

Through the haze, I felt a pair of hands gently wiping the sweat from my face, pressing a cool, damp cloth to my forehead.

I was fourteen again. I hadn't cleaned the staircase well enough, and my stepmother had made me kneel outside in the snow in the dead of winter.

Her expression was venomous.

"I've raised you all this time, and you can't even handle something this simple."

My father deliberately avoided my pleading eyes, pretending he saw nothing.

Halfway through the punishment, a basin of foul, freezing water hit me full in the face, soaking me to the bone.

Caroline stood on the second-floor balcony, bundled in a thick padded coat, her hands in fuzzy mittens still gripping the empty basin.

"You looked like you were falling asleep. Thought I'd help wake you up."

It was Lance who found me in the end. He carried me home and forced bowl after bowl of fever medicine down my throat, pulling me back from the edge.

He cradled my fingers, swollen and red from the ice water, and his eyes brimmed with heartache.

Through the fever's blur, I opened my eyes. The boy from that memory dissolved, replaced by the cold, silent stranger standing before me now.

"You're sick. Stay in the guest room for the next few days so you don't pass it on to Caroline."

Tears slid from the corners of my eyes and seeped into the pillow.

I couldn't understand how a person could rot so completely.

He stood in the doorway, meticulously wiping his hands with rubbing alcohol, as though terrified of missing a single spot.

Footsteps pattered from the hallway, and the next second Caroline threw herself into Lance's arms.

The guest room door clicked shut. The lock turned. No matter how hard I pounded, no matter how loud I screamed, no one answered.

I was imprisoned. All because I'd come down with a fever.

I slid down against the door and sat on the cold floor. There was nothing left inside me to stir.

In the darkness my phone buzzed. A notification popped up on the screen.

Marriage match successful. One day until certificate issuance.

I tugged the corner of my mouth into something bitter and hollow, then looked away without checking the matched profile.

A full day passed. It was as though I'd been forgotten entirely.

My stomach, already fragile, cramped with pain after a whole day without food. My throat was parched and raw, and even the air I exhaled felt hot.

The door cracked open a sliver. Caroline stood as far back as she could, holding a stale, flattened piece of bread.

She tossed it at my feet the way someone might throw scraps to a stray dog.

Then she raised her phone and snapped a photo of me.

"Didn't you always say you despised homewreckers?"

"Now I'm going to make sure you know exactly what it feels like to be one."

Her smile was wide and triumphant. She turned away, typed up a caption, and posted it online.

She cast herself as the victim, a helpless pregnant woman, claiming I had seduced her husband while she was vulnerable.

In the photo I looked like a stray that had been kicked into the gutter. Matted hair. Hollow face. Utterly wrecked.

My phone erupted with notifications. It didn't take long before someone dug up my personal information.

"Looks decent on the outside, but behind closed doors she has no shame."

"Birth rates are already dropping year after year and she picks NOW to torment a pregnant woman? Rotten to the core."

"Maybe her mother was the same way. Like mother, like daughter."

I shook my head, a broken whimper escaping my throat. "No, that's not... it's not..."

I wanted to scream that Caroline was the real homewrecker. That I was the victim.

But then I remembered the marriage certificate, the one that had burned to ash.

My hand dropped slowly to my side.

After a long silence, I forced the words out in a voice scraped raw.

"Let me go. Whatever is between you two, I won't interfere anymore."

Caroline let out a cold laugh.

"No."

"I want you to watch this baby being born with your own eyes. I want you to see me take everything you care about, piece by piece."

She leaned in close to my ear. Her voice dropped to a whisper meant only for the two of us.

"Want to know when this baby was conceived?"

My chest seized. I stumbled back instinctively, but Caroline grabbed my arm and locked her fingers around it like a vice.

Her voice kept going.

"On your mother's death anniversary."

My pupils contracted. Hatred surged through me like a tidal wave.

I remembered that day. Lance had promised to come, and then canceled at the last minute.

"There's been an emergency at work. I can't get away."

"Ruth, let's go visit your mother together next year, okay?"

Now that I thought about it, there had been a faint breathlessness in his voice when he'd said those words.

But my grief had been so heavy that day. I hadn't noticed.

My fists clenched until my knuckles went white and my fingernails bit into my palms.

If I'd had a knife in my hand, I would have buried it in Caroline's stomach without a second thought.

Before I could even react, Caroline suddenly clutched her stomach and let out a low cry.

Hurried footsteps approached from down the hall.

Lance's hands were trembling as he steadied her. "What's wrong?"

"Lance, my stomach hurts so bad..."

The next second, his sharp gaze cut to me, fury rolling beneath the surface.

"If anything happens to Caroline or the baby, I swear you'll pay for it."

He scooped her up in his arms with practiced ease. Before leaving, he didn't forget to order someone to bring me along.

"If anything goes wrong, you'd better be ready to give whatever's needed!"

The car tore through the streets toward the hospital.

I rested my head against the window. Lance's voice filled the car, murmuring one reassurance after another to Caroline.

She clung to his shirt, panic threading through every word. "Lance, do you think the baby's going to be okay?"

He pulled her tighter against him, then reached over and slapped me across the face.

"I warned you to stay away from Caroline. Why did you have to provoke her?"

I lifted my eyelids but said nothing.

There was no point. He wouldn't believe a word I said.

The moment the car stopped, a team of doctors swarmed around us.

I stood outside the crowd, watching it all with hollow eyes.

Caroline turned to glance at me, then looked away quickly, shrinking into herself. "Lance, I'm so scared."

"There's a risk of hemorrhaging during delivery, isn't there? What if the blood bank doesn't have enough?"

Lance gripped her hand and followed her gaze until it landed on me.

A chill ran through me. I sensed what was coming.

"She's the same blood type as Caroline." His voice was flat. "Take her and draw blood."

I stumbled backward, arms flailing, but the next second I was seized and lifted off my feet.

"Let go of me!"

I thrashed with everything I had, but they pinned me into the chair. The needle pierced my arm, and bright red blood began flowing out of my body.

"We've already drawn five hundred cc's, Mr. James. Should we continue?"

Lance spared me a single cold glance. His voice was ice.

"Keep going."

Then he turned and walked away without looking back.

I could feel the life draining out of me, warmth seeping away bit by bit.

A nurse's voice drifted to my ears, soft with pity.

"If they keep drawing at this rate, she could die."

"Poor thing. So young, too."

My whole body began to shake uncontrollably. Then my consciousness plunged into darkness.

The light above the operating room stayed on.

Lance couldn't shake the restlessness clawing at his chest. Something felt off, like something had slipped beyond his control.

He chalked it up to worry over Caroline.

Doctors moved in and out in a steady stream, each pass winding his nerves tighter.

He didn't know how long he stood there before the light finally went dark.

A doctor emerged, carrying a bundled newborn.

"Mother and baby are both fine. It's a boy."

Lance took the infant carefully into his arms, and the breath he'd been holding finally released.

Then, suddenly, he remembered Ruth.

"Go bring Ruth Harding over."

But moments later, one of his men came rushing back, phone in hand, face pale.

"Sir, Miss Harding is gone."

"Her phone was on the floor of the room."

Lance took the phone. At that exact moment, a text notification lit up the screen.

Forced match activated. Your marital status has been updated. Congratulations on your marriage!