Seven months pregnant, I sat alone in my Vancouver apartment, waiting for my baby's arrival while doomscrolling through trending posts on Reddit.

A discussion titled, "Should I make my husband experience labor pains?" caught my eye.

Among the countless comments, a reply with an attached photo was particularly jarring.

"Of course you should. I had my boyfriend try the labor pain simulator, and now he’s begging me not to go through with the real thing. It’s fine, though. I’m about to be a mom anyway."

Someone questioned: [If you're not giving birth, where's the baby coming from? Adoption?]

The original poster replied smugly: "My boyfriend's idiot wife is the one carrying it. She’s been desperate to conceive for five years, even quit her high-powered job for this. The second that baby is born, it’s mine."

She added: "She's seven months along, naively waiting at home for the baby to arrive, with no idea that it's my fertilized egg."

As a woman who had also struggled to conceive for five years, quit her job for the pregnancy, and was now seven months along, the post hit too close to home.

At that moment, I thought the poster was just some lunatic making up stories for attention. I silently seethed at her shamelessness.

I kept scrolling, but my breath hitched when I saw the fetal ultrasound video she posted next.

The hospital logo and medical record number flashing on the screen were sickeningly familiar.

The video she shared… was of my child.

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1

In disbelief, I pulled out my medical file from last week's prenatal check-up.

I wasn't mistaken. The video she’d posted was my child.

It all made sense now. The bizarre, satisfied smile Ryan always wore ever since I got pregnant. The way I couldn’t see a trace of myself in the baby's ultrasound photos.

I quickly clicked on her profile and found another trending post.

[A Vlog of me taking my boyfriend to experience labor pains]

His face was hidden, but one detail gave him away.

The man had the exact same tattoo on his left wrist as Ryan.

My heart stopped. I clutched my belly, fighting for breath.

No wonder Ryan had been so resistant a few months ago when I suggested we attend the labor pain simulation as part of our prenatal class.

So, he’d already experienced it—with another woman.

He knew the gut-wrenching pain of childbirth.

That's why he couldn't bear to let his beloved suffer. He would just use my womb to carry a child for his true love.

The comments erupted in outrage.

[Jesus, this is disgusting! Bump this post so the poor wife sees it. She can't be allowed to carry another woman's baby.]

[Isn't this a form of surrogacy fraud? Even if the baby is born, she won't get it. As the birth mother, the wife has custody rights. A homewrecker is just a homewrecker.]

[I feel so bad for that woman. She's seven months along; she definitely won't be able to bring herself to terminate the pregnancy.]

But the poster, this Chloe, was in the comments, replying to each one flamboyantly. I could practically smell her arrogance through the screen.

[So what if she sees it? She’s thirty-four and seven months pregnant. The risk of abortion is massive, and she’ll probably never conceive again. She won’t dare get rid of this baby.]

[You don't need to worry about the legal issues. My boyfriend said she quit her job to focus on the pregnancy and has no income. He'll file for divorce after the baby is weaned. A little alimony will be enough to get rid of her.]

[Getting a divorce will be a cakewalk. This woman has a thing about ‘emotional fidelity.’ We’ll just push her buttons a little, trigger some postpartum depression, and she’ll leave on her own.]

The smugness practically dripped off the screen, a poison seeping into my mind.

She was right. I did have a thing about emotional fidelity.

Due to severe late-pregnancy symptoms, I had been forced to resign from my high-paying job as a Senior Analyst. The transition from a career woman to a stay-at-home wife had already put me under immense mental stress.

If all this was true, it was highly likely I would indeed suffer from postpartum depression.

[Stop being so jealous. The reason she couldn't get pregnant for five years was mainly because I hadn't had enough fun yet and didn't want to be a mom so soon.]

[All those fertility vitamins she took while trying to conceive were swapped out for birth control pills by my boyfriend.]

That sentence struck me like a bolt of lightning.

I yanked open the drawer and grabbed the vitamin bottle.

Could it be true? Could these really be birth control?

My hands trembled. I refused to believe it. I immediately called a courier service to deliver the pills to my friend's lab for testing.

I stared intently at the screen, waiting for Chloe's latest reply.

Perhaps it was time for her afternoon tea, because the poster went silent.

No matter how many people cursed her, there were no new messages.

I gently stroked my swollen belly.

For this child, I had endured countless injections. The hormone medication had made me swell up, and my feet were so bloated I could barely walk.

To give up just because of some post that might not even be real? I couldn't. Even if there was a one-in-ten-thousand chance it was a prank, I couldn't bear to let go.

My thoughts were a tangled mess.

Confront Ryan now? Without proof, he would just chalk it up to pregnancy-induced paranoia.

Suddenly, a new reply appeared under the post.

[Stop with the jealousy, everyone. My boyfriend is taking a break from his busy schedule to have afternoon tea with me. He even made me dessert personally. He has no time for you all.]

She posted a photo. It was from Café Kitsuné. On the table were an exquisite matcha latte and a slice of strawberry cake.

And Ryan's office was right next door.

I called Ryan's phone. He declined it, again and again.

A message popped up on my phone. It was from Ryan.

Madison, I was just in a meeting. I'm going to the gym for a run now, and I bought your favorite coffee and dessert on the way.

Be home in half an hour.

I stared at the clock, counting every second.

Thirty minutes later, I heard the beeping of the keypad at the door.

"Madison, honey, come have some coffee. It's all your favorite."

He smiled and handed me a paper cup. But the moment my fingertips brushed the cup, an unnatural chill shot up my arm, sinking deep into my bones.

Tears streamed down my face.

"What's wrong, baby? Are your legs cramping again?"

Seeing my tears, Ryan immediately put everything down, knelt, and gently massaged my swollen ankles.

“How’s my little guy doing today, Madison? Just hang in there. Only two more months until we finally get to meet him.”

He looked up, his gaze impossibly tender. "Is the coffee cold? The traffic must have been bad. Wait here, I'll go heat it up for you."

He picked up the coffee from the takeout box and walked toward the microwave.

My phone chimed with a notification. A new reply on the thread.

[My boyfriend made too much dessert, so I had him pack the rest for that woman at home. The coffee is what I didn't finish, can't let it go to waste. I picked the pink bag myself. Can't let my son go hungry.]

The pink bag on the table seared my eyes.

The tears wouldn't stop.

So, the foolish woman in the post, the one being played for a fool, really was me.

"Madison, it's all warmed up. Come, be careful, it's hot. Let me feed you."

Ryan emerged with the steaming coffee, that warm smile I had adored for five years playing on his face.

I stared at him, this man I thought I knew, and saw a monster wearing his skin.

We met through friends. He was a Vancouver native, a graduate from a prestigious university with a respectable job, sincere and down-to-earth.

We got together because on paper, we were a perfect match. But I fell for him in the quiet moments of our life together.

Every night after another failed attempt to conceive, he would gently comfort me.

The moment the IVF test showed two lines, he was even happier than I was.

I had naively thought our shared hope had earned us a miracle.

But it was all just a trap, set by this despicable couple.

I violently shoved away the cup he held to my lips. The brown liquid splattered onto his white sweatshirt, an ugly stain.

I met his gaze directly. “Ryan, what if there was a mistake during the embryo transfer? I want an amniocentesis.”

His hand, which was wiping his shirt, froze. A flicker of guilt crossed his face.

“Madison, have you been watching too much TV? How could that even happen? St. Paul’s has incredibly strict protocols. A mix-up like that is impossible.”

"But I'm scared. I had a nightmare that the baby wasn't ours! Ryan, if you love me, you'll take me to get it tested tomorrow."

He put down the cup, a flash of anxiety in his eyes.

"Madison, I'm worried it would be bad for you and the baby. You have to trust me, there's absolutely no way there was a mistake."

He pleaded with me, but I stubbornly insisted.

His phone rang. He glanced at the screen.

"Madison, there's a problem with a project. I need to take this call in the study."

He ducked into the study and closed the door.

Five minutes later, he came out, his brow relaxed.

"Madison," he walked over and took my hand, "since you're so scared, I'll go with you. Let's book the test now."

"Really? But just now you were…" I was a little surprised.

Ryan cut me off. "Madison, I love the baby, but I love you more. If you have doubts, then let's get the test done. Only when you're at ease can the baby grow up healthy."

I wondered what had made him suddenly change his mind.

On the way to the hospital, I found the answer in that post.

[The old hag is suddenly going crazy and wants a DNA test. Did she actually see the post?]

[But I'm not scared. Ryan just called me. She can go get it checked. A test result is easy enough to deal with.]

I gripped my phone tightly, my lips pressed into a thin, silent line.

An unnerving silence filled the car. I caught Ryan glancing at me in the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable.

"Madison, are you not feeling well? Why do you look so pale?"

As the car entered the underground parking garage of St. Paul's, I suddenly spoke.

"Let's switch hospitals. I want to go to BC Women's Hospital."

Ryan's hand tightened on the steering wheel, and the car swerved slightly. He looked at me suspiciously. "Madison, we've been with this hospital since we created your file. Why the sudden change?"

"You picked Dr. Hayes yourself. If we switch doctors now, we'll have to redo a lot of tests. Your body can't take that strain."

He parked the car and turned to me. "Have you been too anxious lately? It's all my fault. I'm always focused on working more, getting a bigger year-end bonus, to create a better life for you and the baby."

Before, I would have been touched by his hard work and effort.

But now, that post was a poisoned thorn in my heart, a constant reminder that this was all just an elaborate scam.

"Madison, we can't get an appointment at another hospital today. Can we just go get the test done first?"

He all but dragged me into the elevator.

In the phlebotomy room, the cold needle pierced my skin, and I couldn't stop trembling.

Ryan held my hand tightly, gently smoothing my brow. "Don't be scared, it'll be over soon."

The nurse applied a bandage. "The patient needs to lie down and rest. The results will be ready in 48 hours."

The tension must have been too much; I drifted off to sleep in the recovery room.

I don't know how much time passed before I jolted awake.

The recovery room was empty. Ryan was gone.

The elevators were packed, so I supported my belly and took the stairs down to find him.

In the parking garage, I saw him.

He was hugging and kissing a young woman.

"Why did you come to the hospital? The flu is going around so much. What if you catch it?"

Ryan worriedly took out a mask and put it on her.

"I was worried about our baby. When that old hag suddenly demanded a DNA test, I got paranoid and followed you. When will the results be ready?"

The girl pressed her body tightly against Ryan's chest.

"Don't worry, it's all handled. I already talked to the lab. They're swapping in your sample. The results will show it’s our baby, just under her name." Ryan kissed her forehead. "You get to be a mother without any of the suffering."

"But you should get home. It’s freezing out. You’re going to make me worry."

The girl stomped her foot flirtatiously. "No, no, I want to stay with you. She's asleep anyway."

"I'm hungry. Will you take me to eat?"

Ryan looked at her, exasperated but fond, gently stroking the stray hairs on her forehead.

"Whatever you say. Anything you want. What do you want to eat?"

The love in his eyes was something I had never seen in our five years of marriage.

The girl whispered something in his ear. Ryan laughed, sweeping her up by the waist to sit her on the hood of the car. In the dim light of the garage, they kissed deeply, lost in their own world.

A sharp pain shot through my belly, and I collapsed behind a pillar, clutching my stomach.

I called Ryan. I could hear his breathless voice on the other end.

"Madison, you're awake? Something came up at work. You rest at the hospital for now, I'll come get you when I'm done."

"Ryan, my stomach hurts. Can you not go to the office and stay with me at the hospital?"

"Don't be difficult, Madison. Christmas is almost here, we can't jeopardize the year-end bonus. Be good."

The girl's low voice urged him, "Hurry up, hurry up, I'm starving!"

The dial tone buzzed in my ear as the pain gradually subsided.

I got to my feet and went back into the hospital.

I found another doctor.

"Doctor, I want to terminate the pregnancy."

Dr. Thompson looked at my large belly in shock. "Ma'am, do you know what you're saying? You're already seven months pregnant. Your uterine condition is poor. After this, you may have great difficulty conceiving again."

I looked into Dr. Thompson's concerned eyes and nodded firmly.

"I know. But I have to do it. Even if it means removing my uterus, I have to get this abomination out of my body."

Just as the doctor was about to suggest I see a psychiatrist, I opened the post I'd seen that morning, along with the photo I had just secretly taken in the parking garage of Ryan and Chloe kissing.

After seeing it, the old doctor took off his glasses, his mouth agape in shock.