The memories wouldn’t stop. They just kept coming, one after another, like they were trying to drown me.

My mom almost died giving birth to me. That’s what they always said. Like I owed them something just for existing. She never looked at me without that quiet resentment in her eyes.

And my dad… he loved her so much that he ended up hating me too.

Then they adopted Elizabeth.

And suddenly, the house had a sun.

Everything revolved around her.

I remember her school party. My parents showed up early, dressed like they were attending some big Hollywood event, smiling, laughing, taking photos with her like she was the only child they had.

My own school event was that same week. I waited at the gate until it got dark.

They never came.

I told myself they were busy. I kept telling myself that over and over.

Another time, Elizabeth tripped and scraped her knee. Just a small cut, barely bleeding, but my parents panicked like it was something serious. They stayed with her all night, comforting her, calling doctors, hovering over her like she’d break.

That same week, the driver forgot to pick me up from school.

I waited at the gate until it got dark. Everyone left. The guards were closing up. I started walking, didn’t even know where I was going.

A man followed me.

I remember his footsteps behind me, slow, getting closer. I started running, crying, my chest hurting so bad I thought I’d collapse right there on the road.

My teacher found me. She saw me running, pulled over, and rushed me into her car. She drove me home herself.

When we got there, the house was bright. Laughter inside. They didn’t even know I was missing.

I should’ve understood back then. I should’ve known no one was coming to save me.

I thought that would be my whole life.

Then the Cunberland banquet.

I didn’t even want to go. I knew I didn’t belong in those rooms full of billionaires and perfect people.

Elizabeth made sure I remembered that. She smiled sweetly right before she pushed me into the pool.

The water was freezing. My dress clung to me, heavy and embarrassing. When I climbed out, people were already laughing.

“Look at you,” she said, her voice soft but cruel. “You really are pathetic. No one wants you. Not even your own parents.”

I just stood there. Wet. Shaking. While everyone's laughing at me. Then Joaquin walked in like everything else didn’t matter.

He didn’t even hesitate. He took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around me, his hands steady, his face cold.

Then he looked at everyone else.

“Anyone else want to laugh?” he said quietly. “Go ahead. Try it.”

No one did.

Not a single sound.

And just like that… I felt seen. That was the moment I fell for him. He pursued me like I mattered. Like I was worth something.

After we got married, he gave me everything. The houses, the attention, the way he stayed close like he couldn’t stand being away from me.

But at night, he was different.

Even when I cried, even when I begged him to slow down, to give me a second, he just held me tighter and kept going like none of it mattered.

I told myself, this is love too, right?

Isn’t it? I thought he was the only person who ever wanted me.

But it turns out… He wanted something from me.

Three years ago, Elizabeth suddenly became “sick.”

They said she had a rare condition, something about her blood, something about needing a perfect match for a stem cell transplant.

I didn’t understand it back then. I just remembered sitting in that hospital room while doctors talked over my head.

“There’s only one way now,” one of them said. “If Miss Laureen Covington has a child, there’s a chance the baby could be a perfect genetic match.”

I didn’t think much of it at the time.

But now…

Was that the moment everything started? Was that when he decided to come for me? So all of it… the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, the way he made sure I got pregnant…

None of it was real?

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I stumbled back, my head spinning, and that’s when I heard Elizabeth’s voice just outside my hospital room.

She was on the phone. Laughing.

“Relax, I’m fine,” she said, almost bored. “There’s nothing wrong with me. The whole thing about needing fetal stem cells? Fake. I just wanted to watch Laureen panic. It’s more fun that way.”

My chest tightened so hard it hurt.

She kept talking, her voice lighter, almost playful.

“And Joaquin… he’s still convinced I was the girl he fell for that night. That’s why he’s so obsessed with me. It’s actually kind of funny.” She laughed softly. “He has no idea the one playing piano in the garden that night was Laureen.”

My fingers went cold.

What…?

“I’m not letting her take him,” Elizabeth said, her tone dropping, something darker slipping through. “Not now. Not ever. He’s mine.”

The call ended.

And I just stood there.

He thought it was her but it was me. And because of that mistake, I became the one he used.

I don’t even remember lifting my hand, but when I looked down, my phone was still recording. Every word. Every laugh.

Proof.

I don’t know how I made it to the doctor’s office. My legs felt numb, like they didn’t belong to me anymore.

“I want an abortion,” I said. My voice sounded rough, like it wasn’t mine.

The doctor froze. “Mrs. Cunberland… you’re already eights months along. This isn’t a small decision. Are you absolutely sure? Maybe you should think about it again.”

“I’ve thought about it,” I said quietly. “More than enough.”

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable.

“But Mr. Cunberland made it very clear this child is extremely important,” he added carefully. “We can’t proceed without his approval. If you insist, he needs to sign the consent form himself.”

Of course he did. It was never my choice, was it? I closed my eyes for a second, then reached for the paper.

“Give it to me.” My fingers trembled as I took the consent form.

Then I turned and walked out.

…

As soon as I opened the door, I ran straight into him.

Joaquin.

He must’ve rushed over. He was still in his suit, perfect like always, like nothing in his world ever fell apart. But his face, there was something else there. Tension. Worry.

For me?

The second he saw me, he let out a breath and pulled me into his arms like he’d been holding it in the whole time.

“Where did you go?” he murmured against my hair, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, warm and familiar. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? You just disappeared like that! What if something happened to you?”

His voice was soft and almost scared.

It used to make me feel safe but now? It just hurt.

I slowly looked up at him. “Are you really scared something might happen to me?”

He frowned, like the question didn’t make sense, and brushed my cheek gently with his fingers.

“Of course I am,” he said, quieter this time. “Everyone knows you’re everything to me. And you’re carrying my child, how could I not be worried?”

My child.

The words hit me so hard I almost lost my balance.

My fingers tightened around the paper in my hand. Don’t react. Don’t break here. Not in front of him.

I lowered my gaze and handed it over. “I need to go for a checkup. They asked for your signature.”

He took it casually at first, but then his eyes paused on the page.

“What kind of checkup is this?”

My heart jumped.

I moved my hand quickly, covering the lower part of the paper, “Just… routine. Late pregnancy screening. They said it’s standard.”

He didn’t look convinced. He was about to read more when his phone vibrated.

A message popped up.

Elizabeth.

[Joaquin, I'm dizzy…]

I watched his face change right in front of me and just like that. All the focus he had on me was gone.

He didn’t even hesitate. He signed the paper quickly and shoved it back into my hands.

“Laureen, I need to go,” he said, already stepping away. He held my face for a second, kissed my forehead like it meant something. “You go ahead with the checkup. I’ll come find you after. I’ll stay with you… with both of you.”

Both of you.

He didn’t even finish his sentence before turning away. And then he was gone.

Just like that.

I stood there, staring at the signature on the paper. His name, bold and careless.

Right under the words…

Induced labor consent.

My vision blurred. I didn’t even notice the tears falling until they hit the paper and smudged the ink.

…

The operating room was cold. Too bright.

Metal instruments clinked softly somewhere beside me, sharp and distant.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, my fingers curled tightly against the sheets. My body felt heavy, numb in places, but my chest… it felt like it was being crushed slowly.

This is the choice I made.

I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood almost immediately. Memories kept coming, one after another, like they refused to let me go.

The first time he stayed with me through the storm.

The lights had gone out, thunder shaking the windows, and I couldn’t stop trembling. He sat beside me in the dark, his hand warm around mine, his voice steady. “It’s okay. I’m here. I won’t leave.”

The day I got sick and could barely stand.

He carried me to bed without a word, tucked the blanket around me, his hand brushing my hair back so carefully. “Rest. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

When I couldn’t keep food down during pregnancy.

He sat beside me, feeding me slowly, patient, soft. “Just one more bite, okay? You need to eat. I’m right here.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

All of it…

Fake.

Every single word. Every touch. Every promise. Was there even one moment that was real?

Suddenly, the pain hit harder. My body tensed without warning, and a broken sound escaped my throat before I could stop it.

It hurts.

So much.

My fingers dug into my palms, nails pressing deep into my skin like I needed something to hold onto.

I thought I heard something.

A faint cry.

Or maybe it was just in my head.

“Joaquin…” I whispered, barely even hearing my own voice. Why am I still calling him? Why…

Tears slipped down the sides of my face, mixing with the cold sweat on my skin.

Everything felt distant. Blurry.

Like I was drifting somewhere far away from all of it.

The child…

Gone.

And just like that…

Whatever we had… it was over.

…

I stayed in the hospital for a day and no one came.

Not my parents and not even Joaquin.

I waited at him first. I kept checking the door every time footsteps passed. Maybe he'd show up or maybe he’d at least ask how I was but nothing.

In the end, I handled my own discharge. Signed the papers myself, packed my things, and walked out alone.

When I passed the VIP ward, the door was slightly open. I didn’t mean to look, but I did.

And there they were...

My parents sat on both sides of Elizabeth’s bed, peeling fruit, feeding her water, their faces full of worry. The kind of worry I’d begged for my whole life.

Joaquin stood near the doctor, holding a report, his brows slightly furrowed. His voice was low, careful, asking questions, making sure everything was fine.

Elizabeth reached out and tugged his sleeve, smiling softly.

He didn’t even hesitate. He bent down right away, adjusted her blanket, his movements gentle, patient.

I stood outside the door, frozen. My fingers slowly curled into my palm without me noticing.

Why does it still hurt? Haven’t I seen this my whole life?

A memory slipped in before I could stop it.

When we were kids, we both fell off our bikes on the same afternoon. Gravel tore into our knees, palms scraped raw, both of us crying on the side of the road.

My parents rushed straight to her. Lifting her up, brushing the dirt from her skin, voices soft and panicked as they checked every little scratch.

I stayed where I was.

Still on the ground.

My hands stung, blood slowly dripping down my fingers, but I didn’t move. I just watched them fuss over her like I wasn’t even there.

No one came.

I told myself I got used to it.

And then I met Joaquin.

He gave me so much that I stopped looking at anyone else. I stopped wanting anything from anyone else.

But now…

This was the first time I saw him treat someone better than he treated me.

So that’s it, huh? No one ever really loved me.

…

When I got back to the villa, the place felt too big.

I went straight to my room and closed the door.

Then I took out the fake belly I bought and strapped it under my clothes. Adjusted it carefully in the mirror until it looked real enough.

Still pregnant. Still carrying his child.

I touched it lightly. My hand trembled for a second before I pulled away.

My real baby…

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get rid of my own child. No matter what kind of lie this world had become, that baby was still mine.

So I paid the doctor a fortune to perform a C-section. I give him nough money to buy his silence. He agreed to hide the baby for me, said he’d take care of everything—no records, no trace. And that when the time was right, I could come back and get my child.

After that… I asked him for one more thing.

A dead baby. Unclaimed.

He hesitated at first, but money makes people quiet so he brought one.

I placed the tiny body into a beautifully wrapped box, soaked everything in formalin, sealed it carefully, and locked it inside the drawer.

This would be my gift to Joaquin.

After everything was done, I sat on the bed for a long time before picking up my phone.

I dialed a number I hadn’t touched in years.

“Hello?” a woman answered.

“It’s me,” I said softly. “Laureen Covington.”

There was a pause, then recognition. “Laureen?! It’s been a long time. Where are you now?”

“I’m still in, Beverly Hills, California. But I don’t want to stay here anymore.” My voice came out steadier than I expected. “I want to leave and go abroad. If the position at the Sunvale Academy is still open… I’d like to take it. I can teach piano. I can start anytime.”

“That’s sudden! You built a life there. Are you sure you’re ready to walk away from everything?”

Everything.

What did I even have to walk away from?

“I’ve thought about it,” I said quietly. “There’s nothing here for me anymore.”

“Alright,” she said. “Come in two weeks. I’ll arrange everything on my side. We’ll take care of the rest once you’re here.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I hung up.

Two weeks.

Just two more weeks.

Not long after, I heard footsteps outside and the door opened. Joaquin walked in, his expression tightening slightly when he saw me.

“Laureen, why didn’t you tell me you were being discharged? Do you know how risky that was?! You shouldn’t be moving around alone in your condition.”

He walked over, his hand naturally resting on my stomach.

“Don’t do that again,” he said softly. “Tell me next time. What did the doctor say? Is everything okay? Is the baby fine?”

The baby.

I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, another voice came in.

“Sister, you’re already home?” Elizabeth stepped in, smiling brightly. “You didn’t even tell us,” she continued, “Do you know how worried Joaquin was? He almost turned the whole hospital upside down looking for you.”

I looked at Joaquin.

He immediately explained, “Liza wanted to leave the hospital for a few days. The air here is better, so I let her stay just until she feels stronger.”

Elizabeth clasped her hands together, her smile soft and innocent. “I hope I’m not bothering you, sis. I’ll only stay for a short while, I promise.”

Her eyes met mine and there it was. That quiet challenge. Waiting. Watching.

‘Go on, break,’ her gaze seemed to say. ‘Show them what you really are.’

I didn’t. I just nodded.

“I won’t disturb you,” I said calmly.

…

That afternoon, I stayed on the sofa just… watching.

No one asked me to join. No one noticed I didn’t.

Joaquin moved around the house like I wasn’t even there.

He personally told the servants how to prepare Elizabeth’s room. I heard every word.

“Make sure the mattress is soft enough,” he said, “She had back issues before, don’t make it uncomfortable for her. And check the temperature, she gets cold easily at night.”

I sat there, hands resting on my lap, and just listened.

At dinner, it was the same.

“She doesn’t eat spicy foods,” he reminded them. “And peel the seafood properly, don’t leave anything. The soup… let it cool a bit before serving.”

I stared at my plate.

When was the last time he remembered what I liked? Did he ever?

And then… things started clicking in my head.

Moments I ignored before. Moments I thought meant nothing.

Every family gathering, his eyes always found Elizabeth somehow. Just for a second, just a glance but it was always there.

Every time she got “sick,” he somehow had a reason to pass by the hospital. Coincidences, he called them.

Even after I got pregnant, those times he seemed distracted, those long silences…

He wasn’t thinking about me.

He was thinking about her.

How did I miss all of that?

I closed my eyes slowly.

Laureen… you’re really pathetic.

For a second there, I really thought I was loved.

I barely ate that night. Just a few bites, enough so no one would ask questions, then I went back to my room.

Not long after, the door opened.

Joaquin walked in.

“Why did you eat so little?” he asked, sitting beside me on the bed. His hand slid into my hair, gentle, familiar. “Are you not feeling well?”

I moved slightly, avoiding his touch. “I’m not hungry.”

He caught my hand instead, his fingers wrapping around mine. “Not hungry at all?”

“I’m fine,” I said quietly.

He leaned closer. “And what if I’m not?”

I froze.

Before I could say anything, he lowered his head, his lips brushing against my collarbone.

My body stiffened instantly.

It wasn’t the first time.

Before, after I passed the early stage of pregnancy, he couldn’t wait. Even when I cried, even when I told him it hurt, he would just hold me tighter, kiss my tears away, and whisper, “Just this once, okay? I love you.”

It was never the last time.

I pushed against him weakly. “The baby…”

“It’s fine,” he murmured, gripping my wrist gently but firmly. “You can just… help me a little, okay?”

I didn’t answer. What was I supposed to say?

The arms I used to run to now felt suffocating. His kiss deepened, and I felt my chest tighten more and more—

Then a knock.

“Joaquin? Laureen? Are you asleep?”

Everything stopped. Joaquin pulled back immediately, and the look in his eyes changed so fast it almost made me laugh.

He stood up and opened the door.

Elizabeth stood there, smiling gently.

“Sister,” she said as she stepped in slowly, her eyes landing on me. “You’re already this far along… it must be exhausting, right? I’ve been learning prenatal massage recently. It helps with stress and tension. I can help you relax a bit.”

“I don’t need it,” I said.

Her expression shifted instantly, her eyes turning red and her lips trembling slightly.

“Do you not trust me?” she asked softly, then looked at Joaquin. “I just wanted to help, Joaquin. I thought maybe I could do something for her…”

Joaquin walked back to me, his hand warm as he touched my face.

“Liza means well,” he said gently. “Let her help you, alright?”

Elizabeth smiled again and stepped closer.

“For prenatal massage, it’s important that your body stays completely relaxed,” she said lightly. “If you move too much, it can cause strain. We usually secure the hands and feet a little, just to keep everything steady.”

Something cold slid through me.

Joaquin didn’t question it. He just nodded and reached for a rope nearby.

I watched him as he tied my wrists to the headboard.

Slowly. Carefully.

The sound of the knot tightening echoed in my ears.

Why am I still hoping he’ll stop? I thought. Why am I still waiting for him to realize something’s wrong?

“Joaquin,” Elizabeth said softly, smiling at him. “Thank you for trusting me. You can go out now. It’s better if it’s quiet.”

He nodded.

Before leaving, he leaned down, his fingers brushing my cheek gently.

“Be good,” he said softly. “Listen to Liza, okay?”

Then he walked out.

…

I stared at the closed door, and my chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe.

He didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.

She called, and he left. Just like that.

“Sister, relax,” Elizabeth said softly behind me as she stepped closer. Her fingers brushed over the ribbon tied around my wrists, slow and deliberate. “If you’re this tense, the massage won’t work. You’ll only make it harder for yourself.”

I looked at her, my voice cold. “I told you, I don’t want this. Just leave.”

She paused for a second, and the smile on her face slowly faded.

Then she leaned closer, her lips near my ear. “So… you know, don’t you?” she whispered.

My fingers trembled a little, but I kept my face still. “Know what?”

“Oh come on,” she let out a quiet laugh. “Stop pretending. You’re not that stupid. You already know Joaquin only got close to you for the baby. For the fetal stem cells. For me.”

My chest tightened, and I didn’t move.

She sighed softly, almost sounding sorry. “But even if you know… what can you do? You can’t stop any of this. You never could.”

Her hand moved down, her fingertip pressing lightly against my stomach.

“Before, it was you I played with,” she murmured. “After this baby is born… it’ll be your child instead.”

Something inside me snapped tight. I bit down hard on my lip until I tasted blood.

“Are you done?” I asked, my voice rough. “If you’re done, then get out.”

She laughed again, quieter this time. “You think I came here just to talk?”

She turned and walked toward the cabinet, taking something out. A small bottle.

“I said I’m here to help you,” she added lightly.

The next second, something cold splashed across my back.

It burned.

Before I could even react, the pain exploded through me.

“Ah—!” I screamed, my body jerking violently.