The pregnancy report was still warm in my hand as I stood in my living room, imagining Killian’s face when he saw it. Today was his birthday party—his family booked an entire garden venue, complete with lanterns and fireworks. I planned to show up before everyone else and surprise him with the news.

“Killian, you’re going to be a father.” I had whispered it to myself at least ten times.

My phone rang. His name flashed on the screen.

I smiled instantly. “Killian? I’m on my way to—”

“Amber, I can’t make it tonight.” His tone was rushed. Cold. “There’s an important event happening at the office. Emergencies. I’ll be stuck here for hours.”

My heart fell. “But… it’s your birthday.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Just go home, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Something in me deflated, but I forced myself to be understanding. “Okay. Just… take care.”

He didn’t reply.

A soft click told me the call should’ve ended. But it didn’t.

Because a second later, I heard him sigh—followed by the muffled voice of someone else.

“Tell Mandie I can’t stay long,” Killian muttered. “I need to deal with the wedding first. The bitch Amber keeps asking questions.”

My breath stopped.

Mandie? A familiar name. A name I hadn’t heard since high school. A name tied to ugly memories. Do we know the same Mandie?

Before I could process it, another voice—almost identical to Killian’s, but deeper, rougher—snorted.

“Your wedding or my wedding? You’re barely even here. I’m the one warming your bed for you, twin brother.”

Twin brother? I felt the blood drain from my limbs.

Killian spoke through clenched teeth. “Shut up, Ken. You know I’m only marrying her because of Grandma’s favor. She saved her life once, and Grandma adores her… and it was her final request to see me marry her.”

My fingers tightened around the pregnancy report.

Ken let out a mocking laugh. “Right, right. Marrying her for Grandma. Meanwhile you’re too busy running to Mandie like an obedient lapdog. And, what I am? Always your stand-in.”

“I love Mandie,” Killian snapped. “You know that. And, you swore to me you’d do everything for me if I made sure grandma would never bother you, so do this for me.” Every word cut straight through me. “I’ve been trying to postpone the wedding until Grandma dies,” he continued. “But it’s useless. So fine. I’ll just divorce Amber once Grandma’s gone.”

My knees weakened. Everything blurred.

Ken snorted. “Or I can just be the real husband. I mean—how many times did I fuck her without her knowing?”

My entire body went numb. Killian exploded. “Shut up, Ken! I told you not to touch her. If Mandie learns about it, she’ll kill me!”

“Not my fault your fiancée is too stupid to notice the difference between us,” Ken said lazily. “Oh, right—she’s not even aware you have a twin brother.”

My heart shattered so sharply it felt audible.

The call finally ended. My phone slipped from my shaking hands and hit the floor.

I stood frozen in my silent apartment, hearing nothing but the echo of those words. The pregnancy report crumpled in my palm. The air thinned. My chest tightened so violently I couldn’t inhale.

Not now. Please, not now—

Panic surged like a wave crashing over me. My vision pulsed. My hands trembled uncontrollably. I staggered toward the drawer where I kept my anxiety medication.

Just breathe, Amber. Just breathe.

I grabbed the bottle, fingers fumbling with the cap. Pills spilled into my palm. I swallowed one—then two—trying to steady myself.

But the moment the pills slid down my throat, something felt wrong.

Burning. Sharp. Like swallowing poison.

My stomach twisted. My chest tightened. The room spun violently.

“W–what…?” I gasped, gripping the counter.

Sweat drenched my skin as nausea slammed into me. I stumbled backward, collapsing to my knees. My throat burned. My vision blurred.

Then came the retching. Violent. Uncontrollable.

I reached for my phone, but my fingers were too weak. Everything swayed.

The floor rushed up to meet me—and everything went black.

The next sounds I heard were distant. Echoes. Beeping. Footsteps.

A voice pierced the fog.

“This isn’t her prescribed medicine,” the doctor said urgently. “This is wrong. Completely wrong.”

Another voice—maybe a nurse—answered, “Her records say she’s been taking it for months. Her fiancé brings her refills.”

The doctor cursed under his breath. “This dosage could’ve killed her. Why is she drinking this? Does she know how dangerous—”

A pause. A heavy, sharp pause.

“…it seems someone wanted her dead.”

A cold shiver crawled up my spine even though I couldn’t move.

And then it hit me—

Killian was the one who always brought me my pills.

Killian was the one who insisted on managing my prescriptions.

Killian was the one who said, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of you.”

But now—

Someone wanted me gone.

And Killian had always made sure I swallowed those pills.

My eyes fluttered open in terror—just enough to see blurred hospital lights.

My hand weakly touched my stomach.

My baby.

My voice cracked in the darkness.

“Killian… what did you do to me?”

I woke up to the faint smell of disinfectant and a harsh white light burning behind my eyelids.

For a second, I forgot where I was. Then the memory hit me like a truck.

My throat tightened as I blinked slowly, forcing my eyes open. A nurse noticed and hurried toward me.

“You’re awake,” she said gently. “Let me call the doctor.”

I tried sitting up, but a dull ache rolled through my body. My palm instinctively moved to my stomach.

The baby. Before the panic could rise, the doctor entered, flipping through my chart.

“You fainted due to the wrong medication,” he explained. “But the baby… the baby is still alive.”

My breath hitched.

A part of me thought I’d feel relief. Joy. Something warm. But all I felt was a hollow ache.

Because that baby… I didn’t even know who the father was.

Killian or Ken? And either way, the truth was poison.

The doctor watched me carefully. “Do you want to hear the heartbeat later?”

I shook my head.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Ms. Hale?”

My voice cracked. “I want to schedule a termination.”

He froze. “You want an abortion?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “As soon as possible.”

He took a slow breath, as if choosing his words very carefully. “Amber… with your medical condition, you know how difficult it was for you to conceive.”

I said nothing.

“If you go through with this,” he continued, “you may never be able to have a baby again. Are you absolutely sure?”

My heart twisted. But I nodded.

He studied me for a moment—sadly, almost sympathetically. “All right. I’ll schedule it in three days.”

Three days.

Three days to erase the last tie I had to Killian. Three days to start over. Three days to finally breathe.

As the doctor left the room, I sank back against the pillow, my mind drifting—slipping back into memories I tried so hard to bury.

Flashback, two years ago.

I was balancing two bags of cheap groceries and a pile of textbooks when I saw her fall.

Killian’s grandmother, Rosie. I didn’t know who she was back then—just an old woman clutching her chest on the sidewalk, gasping for air, her eyes wide with panic.

My instinct kicked in instantly. I sprinted over, letting my bags drop, and lowered her gently to the ground.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” I asked, checking her breathing. Weak. Shallow.

A heart attack. I grabbed my phone, dialing emergency, while performing the steps I’d practiced a thousand times in training. I stabilized her, kept her talking, monitored her pulse until help arrived.

By the time the ambulance doors closed, she was already squeezing my hand.

“Don’t let go,” she had said with tears in her eyes. “You saved me.”

I didn’t know then that she meant it literally. I didn’t know that moment would reshape my entire life.

A day later, her family rushed into my life—Killian included. He didn’t pay much attention to me at first. He was polite, distant, always busy.

But his grandmother… she clung to me.

“You’re special,” she’d said. “You saved me. Let me save you.”

Back then, I was dirt poor—living in a cramped apartment with my sick mother, juggling shifts at the hospital while studying to become a doctor on a scholarship that could be taken away any moment.

I had nothing. No stability. No future I could hold in my hands.

So when Grandma suggested I marry her grandson… I thought it was too good to be true.

A home. Security. A family. A chance to chase my dreams without worrying about food or medical bills.

And Killian… he smiled at me. Warm. Gentle. Or at least, I believed it was warmth.

We spent two years waiting for the marriage ceremony. Two years of dinners, dates, soft conversations, his hand brushing mine. Two years of waking up beside who I thought was him.

Two years of believing he loved me. Now I knew it was never him.

It had always been Ken. Killian’s twin. The wrong brother.

And Killian… The real Killian… was in love with someone else.

Everything connected in a way that made me sick.

A soft knock pulled me back to the present. A nurse stepped in with a small plastic container. “I brought you some water. You should rest.”

I nodded gratefully and took a sip, though my stomach churned at even the slightest taste of anything.

My eyes fluttered closed. I let myself drift for a moment, drifting in that blurred space between exhaustion and numbness.

The peace lasted all of thirty seconds.

My phone vibrated violently on the bed beside me.

I reached for it, expecting a message from the doctor—or maybe even Killian, pretending to care.

But the sender made my blood turn to ice.

Hospital: URGENT — Patient: Maria Hale

My mother. My heart lurched violently. She was staying in the heart hospital center.

Just as I reached for my clothes, my phone vibrated again. This time—it was her.

I answered instantly. “Mom? Mom, are you okay?”

Her voice came weak. Thin. Like she was speaking through cotton. “Amber… sweetheart. I’m okay, what about you?”

Tears stung my eyes. “I’m fine, Mom. What about you? What happened? Why did the hospital message me?”

She gave a soft, trembling laugh. “I just… wanted to hear your voice. I don't think… I don’t think I can wait for your wedding anymore.”

My chest cracked open. “Mom, don’t say that. Please—don’t talk like—”

“Listen to me,” she whispered. Each breath sounded heavier than the last. “You’ve always been so strong, Amber. Stronger than me. Stronger than anyone I know.”

“Mom—”

“I’m so proud of you.” Her voice wavered, but she forced the words out. “And I love you. More than anything. You hear me?”

A sob tore up my throat. “I love you too. Don’t hang up, please—don’t hang up.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

The line went dead.

“No—no, no, no—Mom!” I screamed into the static.

I ran—out of the room, down the hall, out the hospital doors. I barely registered the nurse calling after me. I just moved. My legs were jelly, my vision blurry, but I forced myself into a cab and begged the driver to go faster.

The ride felt endless. Every second pressed agony into my chest. When I finally reached the hospital and stumbled into the ICU, the nurse on duty looked up.

One glance at her expression—and the world fell apart.

“Amber…” she whispered gently, stepping toward me. “I’m sorry. Your mother… she didn’t make it.”

My mother’s funeral felt like a blur I walked through without really existing. I stood beside the coffin like a broken shadow, staring at the woman I had loved more than anyone—now cold, still, gone.

My mind kept replaying her last phone call. Her voice. The goodbye she tried to make sound gentle even while she was dying.

Every inch of me felt hollow.

Killian didn’t show up. He didn’t call. He didn’t text.

So, I also didn’t let him know that my mother died. He didn’t know I collapsed. He didn’t know I was pregnant. He didn’t know I scheduled an abortion.

He didn’t care… or he would if he wanted to. And I was a fool for not even realizing that.

By the time I returned home, the silence in the apartment felt like a physical weight. I folded my mother’s old sweater against my chest and sank to the floor, crying until my throat burned.

I didn’t know how long I stayed like that.

Hours. A whole night. Until the door opened.

Killian walked in, cheerful and bright like nothing in my world had fallen apart.

“Amber?” he called lightly. “I brought something for you—Grandma said you’d like it.”

He carried shopping bags. Expensive brands. Perfume. Clothes. Things I used to love before everything shattered.

He didn’t even notice how swollen my eyes were. Or how pale I’d become. Or the funeral card still sitting on the counter.

He only smiled. “I missed you.”

I stared at him, numb.

He sat on the couch and casually pulled out wedding brochures. “So… the garden venue or the hotel ballroom? Grandma wants us to finalize things soon.”

I stared. He kept flipping pages. “Also… I talked to a friend of mine who knows someone in London. They can help you get into a good medical program there.”

I blinked slowly. “London?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Great schools. Amazing opportunities. You always dreamed of becoming a doctor, right? You should go.”

“And leave?” I whispered.

He shrugged. “It’s long-distance, sure, but we’ll manage. Maybe it’s good for you. You can focus on your career. And well…”

He smiled faintly. “That way, I can focus on the business.”

I snorted. If this were before, I would be happy, but now I know that he just wanted to dispose of me. So he could hand me over to Ken whenever he needed to play pretend. So he could throw me away quietly—without Grandma watching.

I clenched my hands in my lap. “Do you… want me to leave?”

His silence answered everything. Something inside me cracked—not with pain, but with clarity.

I nodded slowly. “I’ll think about it.”

He brightened instantly. “Good. Good. I really think London will be perfect for you.”

Perfect for him.

He stood, brushing imaginary lint from his suit. “By the way, I want to introduce you to someone. Two people, actually.”

My breath stilled. He opened the door wider.

And there he was. Ken.

I recognized him immediately—same face, same eyes—but the smirk ruined any resemblance to Killian’s gentle act.

“Amber,” Ken said with an exaggerated smile. “We finally meet properly.”

I couldn’t breathe. My palms turned cold. My stomach twisted violently.

Killian beamed proudly, oblivious. “This is my twin brother. I haven’t introduced him earlier because he travels a lot… and honestly, Grandma and he didn’t get along, and it was just now that he finally decided to see Grandma and apologize for being an asshole.”

My chest ached with silent rage.

But then—Then she stepped into the doorway.

The girl who made high school and college a living hell for me.

The queen bee who strutted through hallways like she owned the world—and destroyed anyone who didn’t fit into it.

She spread scandals about me, whispered lies, mocked my thrift-store clothes, and led her friends into cornering me in bathroom stalls just to hear me cry.

She humiliated me in front of crowds, called me names, shoved me into lockers, and made sure everyone knew I was “the poor charity case.”

She bullied me so relentlessly that I developed the anxiety and depression I still fight every day.

She looked flawless—red lips, perfect curls, designer dress. She gasped dramatically and rushed toward me with open arms.

“Amber!” she squealed. “Oh my God, it’s been forever!”

I froze. Her arms wrapped around me.

And in that moment, every instinct in me recoiled. My spine stiffened. My skin crawled under her touch.

She pulled back just enough to study my face.

Her smile faltered when she saw I didn’t return the hug. A small pout appeared on her lips.

“Oh, come on,” she said lightly, tilting her head. “You still don’t like me?” Then she let out a soft, fake laugh. “Shouldn’t I be the one scared of you? Considering you used to bully me?”

My breath hitched.

Killian’s head snapped in my direction. “Bully you? Amber, what—?”

Mandie blinked innocently, placing a hand on her chest as if she were the victim. “Oh… right,” she added sweetly. “I guess she never told you. We used to be… friends… until she hurt me!”