June's Pov 

"So, our next appointment will be in three weeks' time," Dr. Miller said gently, flipping through my file. "Try not to stress yourself, June. You're doing well."

I nodded, my hands resting on my stomach without thinking. It still felt unreal.

"Twins," I said quietly, more to myself than to her.

She smiled. "Yes. Two healthy babies."

Four years.

Four long years of prayers, tears, silent arguments, hope that rose and fell like waves. Frederick and I had wanted this for so long that I had almost taught myself not to expect it. And now, here they were. Two lives growing inside me.

Dr. Miller went over the medications again, reminding me when to take them and what to avoid. I listened carefully, asking questions, nodding when needed. Frederick was supposed to be here today. He had promised. But work had come up, something important, he said. I didn't push. I never did.

"Rest as much as you can," she added. "And don't miss your vitamins."

"I won't," I promised.

We exchanged goodbyes, and I walked out of the clinic feeling light and heavy at the same time.

Inside my car, I sat there for a moment and took a deep breath. Twins. I smiled before I even realized it.

I reached for my phone and called Blue.

Yes, Blue. Like the color. And me...June. Like the month. Weird, I know. But somehow, we fit. We always had. We'd been best friends long before I married Frederick, long before life became... complicated.

She answered after a few rings.

"June," she said quickly. "I'm so sorry, I can't meet up today."

I frowned. "Why? What happened?"

"I'm with Finn."

I straightened. "Your ex?" I asked. "Not again, Blue. You know what he did to you."

There was a pause. Then she sighed. "I know. But I promise, June. He's changed. We just want to talk things over. That's why I'm here."

"Talk things over?" I scoffed. "Blue, I know you. You've probably already had sex"

The line went quiet.

"I said it," I added softly.

"You can't blame me, June," she said, her voice breaking. "I love him."

I closed my eyes. "I know you do. Just... use your head this time, not only your heart."

"I promise," she said.

"I love you," she added before hanging up.

"I love you too," I whispered to the dead line.

Since Blue had canceled, I decided to head home. As I drove, my thoughts wandered. I imagined two little children running through the house, their laughter filling every corner. Toys everywhere. Noise. Chaos. Life. I imagined complaining about the mess while secretly loving every second of it.

For the first time in years, the future didn't feel empty.

I wished my parents were here.

At a red light, I looked up at the sky through the windshield. "I hope you're watching over your daughter," I murmured. "And your grandchildren."

When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed the porch light was on.

I was sure I had turned it off.

I didn't think much of it as I stepped inside.

Then I saw the clothes.

A shirt on the floor. Then another. Female clothing. Not mine. My heart skipped, but my feet kept moving slowly.

There were more clothes as I walked down the hallway. Male. Female. None of it made sense.

The sounds reached me before the truth did.

Not voices. Not laughter. Just... something wrong.

I stopped in front of our bedroom door. My hand shook as I reached for the handle.

When I opened it, my world broke.

There, on our king-sized bed with the sheets I'd picked out myself, was Frederick. My husband, the man I'd trusted with everything, my heart, my future, my family's legacy.

 He was naked, his head thrown back in ecstasy, fingers buried deep inside a woman I didn't know, her legs spread wide as she arched against him. And kneeling between Frederick's thighs, his mouth wrapped around my husband's cock, was Julian. 

Frederick's best friend from college, the one who'd stood as best man at our wedding. 

Time froze. The woman's eyes met mine first, widening in shock as she scrambled back. Julian pulled away, his lips glistening, a flush of guilt and surprise coloring his face. Frederick's head snapped up, his expression shifting from pleasure to horror in an instant.

The words inside my mouth kept crashing into each other,,,scream, curse, beg, run, but nothing would come out except this small, broken sound: "What... is this?"

Frederick flinched like I'd slapped him. He tried to stand, cock still half-hard and glistening, ridiculous and obscene in the lamplight. "June, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry-"

Sorry. The word landed like spit.

Julian stayed exactly where he was, on his knees on the rug, lips swollen and shiny. He didn't even try to cover himself. Instead he smiled slowly and satisfied, the kind of smile you give when you've already won the game and the other player doesn't know the rules yet.

Frederick reached for his boxers, fumbling. "June, listen..."

But Julian spoke first, voice calm, almost gentle. "If you're going to stop pretending, Frederick," Julian said, "this is the right time. She was going to find out sooner or later."

Right time?

The pity drained from Frederick's face so fast it left me dizzy. One second his eyes were wide with guilt; the next they narrowed, cold and bored, like I was a tedious commercial he wanted to skip.

"You know what?" he said, straightening. "He's right. I'm tired. I'm so fucking tired."

"Tired of what?" My voice cracked on the last word.

"Of you." He laughed once, short and mean. "Tired of you wanting me to be this perfect husband, this perfect father. Tired of the perfect-family fantasy you keep shoving down my throat. You don't even know me, June. You never asked what I want. What actually pleases me." His gaze raked over me, dismissive. "And you're terrible in bed. Just... terrible."

The room tilted.

"No," I whispered. "No. Frederick...tell me this is a joke. Tell me I'm dreaming." My palm cracked across my own cheek, once, twice-hard enough that my ears rang. "Wake up. Wake up."

He sighed like I was embarrassing myself. "Stop wounding yourself, June. You don't have to slap your face to make this real."

My hands dropped. Tears burned tracks down my cheeks but I couldn't feel them. "I'm pregnant. For you. We're having babies."

He shrugged. "And?"

"And?" My voice rose, shrill. "They're ours!"

"Spare me." He rolled his eyes. "Who wants the stress of two little bastards running around here anyway?"

Bastards.

The word hit like a fist to the sternum. I lurched forward before I could think, palm cracking across his cheek so hard his head snapped sideways.

"You dare not," I hissed. "You dare not call my children bastards."

He touched his jaw, and smiled so devilishly, nothing like the man I'd shared a bed with for four years.

"You know what?" he said softly. "We're going to give you a show."

He turned to Julian. "On your knees, Julian."

Julian obeyed instantly with eagerness. He shifted forward on his knees, right in front of me, eyes flicking up to meet mine for one deliberate second before he wrapped his hand around Frederick and guided him back into his mouth.

I should have run.

I should have screamed, thrown something, clawed his eyes out.

But my feet were cemented to the hardwood. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Julian moved with practiced rhythm, slow at first, then deeper, wet sounds filling the room. Frederick groaned and threaded his fingers into Julian's short hair, guiding him.

The other woman rose gracefully from the bed. She stepped behind Frederick, pressed herself against his back, and slid her hands up his chest to toy with his nipples. She looked straight at me and smiled the same cruel, victorious smile Julian had worn earlier.

Julian picked up speed. Faster. Wetter. Frederick's head tipped back, eyes rolling shut, mouth open in pure, shameless pleasure.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Yes-just like that."

Inside my skull a voice shrieked: Get out. Get out get out GET OUT.

But my body wouldn't listen.

He came with a guttural moan, hips jerking. Julian didn't pull away. He took it all, then sat back on his heels, chin and lips streaked, smiling up at Frederick like he'd just been given a prize.

I finally turned toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Frederick's voice was lazy, amused.

I froze.

Julian tilted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"What?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Frederick said, tucking himself back into his boxers with casual indifference. "I'm not going to beg you to stay. But you're not leaving without your things, June."

June's POV

I stared at him, my chest heaving with rage and disbelief. "You wouldn't dare chase me out of my own house," I said, my voice shaking. "All of this belongs to me. You're here because of me. What are you even saying right now?"

Frederick laughed like I'd just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard. "Oh, blah blah blah. Are you done with your speech?" He took a step closer, his eyes cold and cruel. "Or should I remind you that you gave everything to me? You had no interest in your father's company because you were a lazy ass bitch. You don't know fucking anything." He gestured around the room. "And well, I made use of it and here we are in this beautiful paradise. If you had left things in your care, you'd probably be begging for food by now, so don't come here and lecture me."

My throat tightened. "Still, this belongs to me," I said weakly, knowing even as the words left my mouth how pathetic they sounded.

"Oh, it doesn't." Frederick's smile widened as he reached over and touched the other woman, his fingers trailing possessively along her shoulder. "It's either you leave now or my sweetheart here, Betty, is going to kick your ass. And you don't want to lose your child, do you?"

Something snapped inside me. I stepped closer, tears streaming down my face. "Are you threatening me?" I demanded, my voice breaking.

He tilted his head, almost amused. "No, I'm not threatening you. You know, I'm actually a good person." He walked over to the drawer while I just stood there, frozen. He pulled out a thick stack of cash and turned back to me. "Take this and find a good apartment. Maybe start selling flowers or something because you're boring as fuck. And maybe a boring man will see you and get married to you."

The words hit me like a slap. I wiped at my tears, trying to hold onto whatever dignity I had left. "Let me just tell you one thing. We're stuck together forever, whether you like it or not. We're going to be a happy family, our baby and us."

Frederick stopped. He looked at me for a long moment, then walked over to the clipboard and pulled out a stack of papers. "We're getting a divorce, my love."

"No," I said immediately, shaking my head. "I'm not getting a divorce."

He stared at me like I was insane. "What do you want? You just found me cheating and you still want us to stay together?"

"We're going to stay for these children, Frederick," I said, my voice desperate now, pleading.

That's when he grabbed my hair. The pain was instant and blinding, his fingers twisting tight, yanking my head back so hard I thought my neck might snap. I screamed, trying to pry his hand away, but he was too strong. He practically threw me to the floor, and I landed hard, gasping.

"You're going to sign this document right now," he said, his voice low and vicious.

I was sobbing now, my whole body shaking. He threw the papers and a pen at me, and they landed beside my trembling hands. I couldn't see through the tears. I couldn't breathe. But I picked up the pen anyway because what choice did I have? I signed.

Frederick pulled the papers away and looked them over. Then he turned to Betty and Julian, grabbed them both, and kissed them. His hand slid down and grabbed Julian's dick, and he grinned. "You both look so hot now. I can have both of you anytime I want without my wife around."

I was still on the floor, broken and humiliated. I forced myself to stand, my legs barely holding me up, and turned toward the door without a word. I stumbled down the stairs, tears blurring my vision, got to the car and collapsed into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.

I was about to start the engine when Frederick appeared at the window. He tapped on the glass, and I reluctantly rolled it down. He threw another stack of cash at me, bills scattering across my lap.

"You know, I'm not that wicked," he said with a smirk. "Now have a nice life, love."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I just closed the window and drove out of that driveway, away from everything I'd ever known.

****

I kept driving until the white lines on the highway blurred into one endless streak. The tears came in waves, hot and relentless, streaming down my cheeks and dripping off my jaw. I didn't bother wiping them away. My entire world had shattered in the span of one night, and here I was, alone on some nameless stretch of road with nowhere to go and no one to turn to.

No siblings. No family. Nothing.

The gas light blinked on, pulling me back to the present. I took the next exit and pulled into a run-down station, filled the tank with shaking hands, then drove across the street and parked in an empty lot, phone clutched in my trembling fingers.

I dialed Blue's number.

It rang once. Twice. Three times. Four.

"Blue, please pick up. Please, please, please pick up." My voice cracked, desperate and small.

Voicemail.

I tried again. And again. Nothing. She was probably with her boyfriend right now, wrapped up in her own perfect little world while mine crumbled to dust.

I searched for hotels nearby on my phone. I didn't even know where I was. I found a cheap place a few miles down the road and drove there in a daze, checked in without really seeing the clerk's face, and dragged myself up to the room.

The door clicked shut behind me, and that's when I finally broke.

I collapsed onto the bed and sobbed. Deep, wrenching sobs that tore through my chest and left me gasping for air. Everything hurt. My heart, my head, my entire body. I cried until my throat was raw, until there were no more tears left, until I was nothing but an empty shell curled up on scratchy hotel sheets.

My stomach growled, a sharp reminder that I wasn't just responsible for myself anymore. The babies. Frederick's babies. I had to eat. I had to keep them alive, even if I wasn't sure I wanted to keep going myself.

I forced myself up, washed my face, and headed out. The fresh air hit my face, cold and sharp. A few blocks down, I spotted a small restaurant with warm light spilling from its windows. It looked quiet. Safe.

I slipped inside and found a corner booth by the window, away from everyone else. When the food arrived, I stared down at it, my eyes still burning. I took a bite. Then another. But my appetite was gone, replaced by a sick, churning feeling. Still, I forced myself to eat. For them. For the tiny lives growing inside me who didn't ask for any of this.

I was halfway through my meal when the door burst open.

Gunshots exploded through the air, sharp and deafening. I dropped to the floor instantly, my heart hammering against my ribs. What the fuck was happening? This couldn't be real.

I fumbled for my phone and dialed Blue again. It rang and rang. No answer. I left a frantic voicemail. "Blue, please, I need you, something's happening, please call me back, please-"

I ended the call and started to dial 911.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here."

The voice was low, smooth, and dripping with dark amusement. I looked up slowly, my blood turning to ice.

A man stood over me. Tall. Impossibly tall. His face was sharp and angular, almost too perfect, like something carved from marble. He looked like a god. But there was nothing divine about the gun pointed directly at my face.

"Please," I whispered. "Please, I didn't do anything. I didn't see anything. I'll leave right now. I'm so sorry. Please."

He tilted his head, studying me with cold, calculating eyes. "I don't like leaving traces," he said calmly. "You were just here at the wrong time, love." He cocked the gun. "Now say your goodbyes. Any last words?"

Panic seized me. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. "Please," I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Please, I can't leave like this. I can't die like this. Please."

For a moment, something flickered across his face. Regret? Hesitation? I couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "But you have to go."

The sound was deafening.

Bang.

Pain exploded through my body, white-hot and all-consuming. I fell back, gasping, clutching at the spreading warmth on my chest. My vision blurred. The ceiling above me swam in and out of focus.

So this was it. This was how I was going to die.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

June's Pov

My eyes fluttered open, and the first thought that crashed through my mind was simple and impossible. I'm alive. I'm fucking alive.

My entire body felt numb, heavy, like it belonged to someone else. I tried to move, tried to understand where I was, but even the smallest shift sent sharp jolts through my limbs.

The lights overhead were blinding. They stabbed into my skull like needles, and I couldn't help the sound that escaped my lips. "Ouch."

"Chloe!"

The voices came from both sides of me, sudden and loud and full of emotion I didn't understand. Two figures lunged toward me, their faces blurry at first, then slowly coming into focus.

"Chloe, you're alive! You're alive, you're alive!"

Before I could process what was happening, they were on me, arms wrapping around my shoulders, squeezing so tight I could barely breathe. The pressure made everything hurt worse, and I tried to pull away, but I was too weak.

"Amelia, you're hurting her! Let her go!"

One of them pulled back, and I finally got a good look at her. Coily black hair, wide brown eyes glistening with tears, a face I'd never seen before in my life.

"Stop it, Sarah," the one called Amelia said, wiping at her eyes. "We've missed our friend so much."

Sarah. Amelia. Chloe.

None of those names meant anything to me.

"How are you feeling, Chloe? Are you good? Can you talk?"

I opened my mouth to tell them they had the wrong person, that I wasn't Chloe, that my name was June. But the words wouldn't come. My throat felt like sandpaper, and the pain in my chest made it impossible to push air through my lungs. I tried again, harder this time, but all that came out was a strangled gasp.

"I'm going to get her mom right now," Amelia said, already halfway to the door. She disappeared into the hallway, leaving me alone with Sarah, who just stood there staring at me with this bright, hopeful smile on her face.

I tried to smile back. I didn't know what else to do. Who were these people? Where was I? And why the hell did they keep calling me Chloe?

The door burst open again, and a woman rushed in. She was older, maybe in her fifties, with soft features and graying hair pulled back into a loose bun. She looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world, and before I could react, she threw her arms around me.

"Oh, my sweetheart," she sobbed into my shoulder. "I missed you so much. I thought we lost you. I thought you were gone forever."

I stiffened in her embrace. This woman was a stranger. I'd never seen her before in my life. But the way she held me, the way her voice broke with relief, it was like she knew me. Like she loved me.

Since when did I have a different mom? An alive one too.

"I've called the doctor," she said, pulling back to cup my face in her hands. "He's going to come check on you, okay? Just hold on, baby."

As if on cue, the door opened again, and a man in a white coat stepped inside. He had a kind face, calm and professional, and he gestured for everyone to move to the side. They obeyed immediately, stepping back to give him space.

He leaned over me, shining a light in my eyes, checking my pulse, asking questions I couldn't answer. I tried to focus, tried to make sense of what was happening, but everything felt wrong. My body felt wrong. This place felt wrong.

And then I saw it.

My hands.

They weren't my hands.

The fingers were longer, the nails different, the skin a shade lighter than mine. I stared at them, my heart pounding harder and harder in my chest.

"I'm not Chloe," I managed to croak out, the words barely audible.

Everyone froze. The doctor stopped what he was doing. Sarah and Amelia exchanged confused glances. The woman who claimed to be my mother looked at me with wide, worried eyes.

"Don't worry about this," the doctor said gently, turning to address the others. "She's going to be experiencing some amnesia, but she'll be fine. It's a normal side effect given the trauma."

"No," I tried to say, shaking my head weakly. "I'm not-"

But then it hit me. A sudden, overwhelming wave of panic that drowned out everything else.

My babies.

Frederick's babies.

I tried to sit up, my body screaming in protest, my hands clutching at the sheets. "My babies," I gasped, my voice rising into something desperate and wild. "My babies. He killed my babies. My babies, my babies-"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down!" Sarah and Amelia rushed over, trying to hold me down, but I fought against them.

"My baby is gone!" I sobbed, the words tearing out of me. "Where are they? What happened to my babies?"

The woman, my so-called mother, looked horrified. "What? She was never pregnant. What is she talking about?"

The doctor pulled something out of his pocket. A syringe. I saw it just in time, and I tried to pull away, tried to stop him, but I was too weak. The needle pierced my skin, and almost immediately, the world started to blur.

"No," I whispered. "Not a memory. These are my babies. Where are they? Where..."

And then everything went dark.