After Mike ditched me on the ski slopes to chase after his old flame, I got swallowed by an avalanche.

I trudged through the snow for two grueling days and nights until I finally got a signal.

When I called Mike for help, his words cut me off before I could even explain, "Look, I'm slammed. Deal with it yourself and stop calling."

I could hear her voice in the background, "Who's calling, Mike?"

"Just some spam," he answered with icy detachment.

I stood there, phone in hand, baffled. Too busy for me, just busy cozying up to her?

Then, a thunderous sound roared, and a cold blanket of snow crushed me. Everything went black.

*****

Waking up, I found myself in a hospital.

Thankfully, the rescue team wasn't far when I called. It's a good thing I didn't pin all my hopes on Mike.

"You're fine, just a bit dehydrated. But, you're pregnant, so you'll need to take it easy and get checked out thoroughly," the doctor said with a gentle reminder.

My mind buzzed. My hand instinctively went to my belly.

I thought about texting Mike the news, but I discovered he had blocked me.

I told myself this was it, the last time. I had to confront Mike face-to-face.

After a thorough checkup, I clutched the pregnancy report in my hands.

Yet, in the hospital room, I caught Mike tenderly giving his old flame her medicine, coaxing her with sweet smiles and candies.

Six years together and he'd never once shown me such gentleness.

So, that was his tender side. Apparently, he thought I didn't deserve such kindness, hence he never let it show around me.

The pain was like a sharp blade, piercing my heart.

Suddenly, clarity hit. There was no need to tell him about the baby in person. I pocketed the report. My child would have nothing to do with Mike, and neither would I.

But just then, a nurse bumped into me accidentally. She apologized profusely, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry."

I reassured her, but Mike heard my voice and spotted me outside his room. He stormed out and yanked me into the hallway, out of sight of his cherished childhood sweetheart.

"Why are you doing here?" Mike barked, clearly annoyed.

He refused to meet my eyes, blind to my pale lips and the sickly pallor of my face. He was convinced I was there to stir up drama, dragging me to this deserted stairwell as if to brace for a showdown, out of sight of his beloved.

In his eyes, I was forever the villain.

Overwhelmed by fatigue, I managed, "This is a public space, not your personal property. I can come if I want, and it's none of your business," I replied calmly. "If that's all, I'll be going now."

Sharing any space with him was revolting; I needed to get away fast.

Mike scowled, taken aback by my assertive tone.

He stood blocking the stairwell door, trapping me. "You saved me the trouble of finding you by showing up here. They've developed a new drug overseas for Jessa's condition, but it lacks clinical trial data. You and Jessa are so alike, you should consider participating."

I looked at Mike in disbelief. "Are you serious? Being Jessa's stand-in wasn't enough, now you want me to be her lab rat too? Have you lost your mind?"

Mike was the golden boy of the neighboring university, our arts school was always bustling with girls, and joint events were frequent. Our annual New Year's gala was a big affair we did together.

During one performance, I danced a ballet piece, and afterward, he approached me.

Mike reached out his hand, "Hey, I'm Mike. Mind if I get to know you?"

The flickering stage lights cast his features in sharp relief, his clean-cut look almost angelic.

Only later did I learn about his childhood friend Jessa Williams, who had grown up dancing just like me. We were similar in build and even shared a love for blue and the sea.

Step by step, I realized I was just a placeholder for Jessa all along.

"Jessa's like a sister to me. I've told you countless times, there's nothing more between us."

Ignoring my protests, Mike was already on the phone. "Brown, bring the trial drug over."

Being newly pregnant meant I had to be cautious about medications. This drug wasn't even confirmed safe yet—taking it could be risky. Even if I weren't pregnant, I wouldn't agree to be Mike's absurd test subject.

"Try it yourself if you're so keen!" I snapped back.

Determined to end the charade, I turned to leave.

Mike grabbed my arm forcefully, pulling me back up the stairs where I stumbled and fell.

I instinctively protected my belly.

"You've always wanted to marry me, right? Test the drug, and we'll tie the knot. We can go on that honeymoon you dreamed about, and maybe even have a baby you've wanted," he proposed.

As he spoke, Mike pulled out his phone and showed me the screen. "Wedding's all set."

He had everything planned. Offering me a dream in exchange for my participation as his sweetheart's guinea pig.

He clearly didn't love me. I was sprawled on the ground, and he didn't even offer a hand to help me up. Yet, for Jessa, he was willing to trade his own marriage.

He's probably forgotten why I was so set on marrying him, on having a kid.

Back when we were fresh out of college, Mike was trying to get his startup off the ground. Money was tight, and the stress gave him a stomach ulcer. I ended up singing in a bar at night to pay his hospital bills. One stormy evening, after dropping dinner off at the hospital, I rushed to work and slipped on the slick streets.

That night, I miscarried our first child.

I lost the baby before I even knew I was carrying it.

I had a loving family once, but it all went up in flames. After the fire, no relatives wanted to take in a "useless" burden like me. By the time I got to the orphanage, being older and a girl didn't help my chances of getting adopted. I spent every holiday there, surrounded by noise yet utterly alone. All I could do was dream about a future with a loving husband and adorable kids—maybe then the holidays would feel different.

But that accident seemed to push my dream even further away.

The doctors warned that my body wasn't well-suited for pregnancy and the accident had done serious damage. Trying to conceive again would be even tougher. In pursuit of that dream, I underwent countless treatments and saw numerous specialists.

Mike knew all about the sacrifices I'd made, but now, he was using my deepest desire as leverage to make me yield.

"Mike, I don't need that anymore."

A sneer flickered across his face.

"Don't need it? Lynn, cut the act. I know what you're after."

He always thought my "acting" was award-worthy.

To look after him, I had passed up major roles for quick-pay gigs - commercials, community theater, you name it.

Being a bit player meant no stunt doubles, no extra care. If a scene required danger, I was the one who faced it, always ending up with bruises or worse. Once, I even fractured a bone, but I kept it from Mike. I didn't want to worry him, nor did I want his pity.

Whenever he noticed, I'd laugh it off, claiming it was just makeup for a new role.

I figured, a little hardship didn't matter when we were together.

He bought every word, even marveled at how "real" the makeup looked. Thinking back, he probably never cared whether I was actually hurt or not.

During those tough days, he needed something or someone to lean on—whether it was a plant, a dog, or a cat. Anything that could talk back and share the burden was a plus. That someone turned out to be me.

Being a sharp businessman, he knew how to exploit vulnerabilities. As his closest confidant, he knew exactly what I longed for and how to manipulate me.

But now, I didn't need his manipulations. I gently touched my belly, feeling the new life within. From now on, it would be just us, our little family.

I was about to counter Mike's accusations when suddenly, the door to the stairwell burst open.

It was Jessa.

Jessa didn't seem surprised to see me. With a polite smile, she extended her hand, "Hey, you must be Lynn, right? Mike said you'd help with the trial? Thanks a bunch for that!"

I looked away, giving her the cold shoulder.

"Lynn! Jessa's talking to you. What's with the attitude?" Mike's voice was sharp, his face clouded with displeasure.

"Sorry, I'm just not great with new faces," I shot back sarcastically. "Not everyone gets my favor. That's earned, not given."

"Mike, does this mean Lynn doesn't want to help with the trial?" Jessa looked up at Mike, her voice laced with worry. "Maybe we should drop it. Didn't the doctors say the meds might cause dizziness, nausea, or even severe bleeding? It'd be rough on Lynn if she's not up for it. Let's not force her."

Jessa's complexion was ghostly, and Mike instinctively drew her close, scolding me, "Lynn, can't you just be reasonable for once? Jessa's condition can't wait. She's the one who's sick; can't you just cut her some slack?"

He was livid. In the old days, I'd have apologized first and then tried to cheer him up.

But now, all I wanted was to leave before they could push me further.

I tried to get past them to push the stairwell door open, but Mike stepped in front of me.

He grabbed my arm and pushed me against the door. "Help Jessa with the trial, or I swear you'll regret it!"

He thought I'd sacrifice my dignity for whatever scraps he was throwing my way.

I was ready to tell him off for dreaming so big, but just then, Brown showed up with the meds.

"Mr. Miller, the medication's here."

The medicine bottle Brown held looked like the kiss of death.

I wrenched free from Mike's grasp and instinctively stepped back.

I hadn't even brushed against Jessa when she suddenly crumpled next to me, collapsing to the floor while crying out, "Ouch!"

"Lynn! Enough already!" Mike shoved me to the ground as if my mere presence was a threat to Jessa's safety.

"Jessa, are you alright?" Concern was written all over Mike's face as he checked on her.

It didn't make sense to me.

If Jessa was truly the one for Mike, why hadn't they just been together from the start? Why drag me into their mess?

If he really loved her that much, why settle for a stand-in like me for six years?

Mike helped Jessa to her feet and dabbed away her tears before turning on me, fuming, "Lynn! What do you want from me? I've already agreed to marry you, to give you a kid!"

"I've told you, I don't need it. I won't take the drug, and I won't marry you! Can't you understand my words?"

"Not taking it? You don't have a say in this!"

Mike gestured to Brown, who opened the door, and several bodyguards swarmed in, pinning me down.

"Brown, force the medicine on her!" Mike commanded.

Despite my desperate struggles, how could I match the strength of those bodyguards? I blurted out in terror, "Mike! I'm pregnant! You can't make me take the medicine!"

Mike scoffed as if I'd just cracked a poor joke. "Really? That's your excuse? We've always been careful. You think you can trick me with that line?"

But even the best precautions aren't foolproof. Mike was adamant, convinced I was just buying time.

Brown unscrewed the cap, his voice softening, "Ms. McCullough, just stop resisting. Take the medicine and this will all be over."

Every fiber of my being was shaking; I was screaming inside with fear.

Gathering all my strength, I yelled, "Mike! Our baby is already two months along! If you don't believe me, check the pregnancy report in my pocket! I'm not lying!"

Brown hesitated and looked at Mike, "Mr. Miller, if what she's saying is true, then..."

Mike's eyes were icy as he mocked me, "Then let's abort it."

"Mike! It's your child! I've gone through so much to have this baby! Please, don't make me take the drug! I don't want to lose it!" My voice was pleading, desperate.

But my cries and struggles fell on deaf ears, as no one seemed willing to listen.

With the help of the bodyguards, Brown forced open my mouth and poured the medicine down my throat.

The drug slithered down like a lethal serpent, tightening its grip on my insides.

The pain was unbearable, tearing through me.

Shaking with agony, it felt like forever before the guards finally let go. I slumped to the ground, drained of all strength.

Mike scooped me up, his lips pressing a kiss to my forehead, "There, there. Don't worry, whatever happens, I'll still marry you. The wedding will go on. You'll have the child you want. Just rest now."

His touch was revolting, and I felt nauseous. I tried to push him away, but my arms were too weak to move.

He started to carry me toward the hospital room.

But he hadn't taken more than a few steps when a sharp pain ripped through my belly, a warm flow trickling down, hitting the floor.

The last thing I heard was Jessa's scream, "Blood! Oh my God, there's so much blood!"

Mike scrambled to stop the bleeding, and the pregnancy report fell from my pocket.

Brown quickly picked it up, his voice trembling, "Mr. Miller, she... she's actually pregnant!"