On my wedding day, my fiancée was at her parents’ house, waiting for me to pick her up. She never made it to the limo. Instead, she got a call from Nate, the ghost of the boy she was supposed to marry. She brought him to the venue herself and, in a move that felt ripped from a soap opera, simply swapped out the groom. When the news reached me, my world didn't just collapse; it was vaporized. I begged my parents to drive me there, to get some kind of explanation, to demand an answer for the public humiliation. We never made it. On the way, a truck ran a red light. My parents were killed instantly. My mother’s last act was to throw her body over mine. I survived. The aftermath was a blur of grief and guilt that curdled into a severe case of PTSD. For two years, I was a ghost haunting the ruins of my own life. And through it all, it was Stella’s older sister, Annelise, who never left my side. She was my anchor in a world that had come unmoored. The day I was finally cleared by my therapist, Annelise celebrated by lighting up the city skyline with fireworks, just for me. Her eyes, glistening with tears in the colored light, met mine. “Will you marry me, Ethan?” she asked. After two years of her unwavering devotion, of her pulling me back from the brink time and again, my heart had already become hers. I nodded, my own tears finally falling not from grief, but from a desperate, fragile hope. Three years into our marriage, she got pregnant. I was so ecstatic I wanted to rent a billboard. But that same night, I overheard her on the phone with her assistant, her voice a low, urgent whisper in her home office. “I’ve been on birth control this whole time. How could this happen? I can’t have this baby. I promised Nate I wouldn’t have another man’s child.” The assistant’s voice trembled. “But if Mr. Hayes finds out… this could get very messy.” “And what about the accident from five years ago?” the assistant pressed. “If that ever came out, if he knew we were the ones who arranged it…” Annelise’s laugh was like the chime of a cracked bell. “For Nate, I’d do anything.” “Besides,” she added, her voice dropping to ice, “I married him, didn’t I? Isn’t that enough?” 1 “But Ms. Prescott, he’s wanted this baby for three years. Losing it… I think it might destroy him.” The assistant’s plea was faint through the closed door. “You orchestrated that crash just so Nate could marry your sister without a scene. Mr. Hayes almost died. Haven’t you done enough? Are you really going to sacrifice your own child now?” I could hear the soft, rhythmic sound of Annelise’s fingers stroking something on her desk. I knew it was the small, polished wooden box she always kept there. Her voice was thick with a martyr’s resolve. “What does it matter? All I want is for Nate to be happy. For him to marry the woman he loved, I had to make sure Ethan and his family never made it to that wedding.” Her tone was chillingly pragmatic. “The crash… I admit it wasn't handled perfectly. Ethan survived. But I corrected that mistake, didn’t I? I married him. His future is secure.” She paused. “As for this child, it can’t stay. Nate’s wife is already four months along. I will not let my baby become an obstacle to his. As long as Nate’s life is perfect, I’ll have no regrets.” “I’ll have Ethan take me to the clinic tomorrow for a check-up. I’ll get the doctor to say the fetus isn’t viable. He can’t argue with that, no matter how much it hurts him…” I couldn’t listen anymore. I stumbled back to our bedroom, my legs giving out as soon as I shut the door behind me. I slid to the floor, my body a dead weight. My marriage. My life. It was all a meticulously crafted lie. My parents’ death wasn’t an accident. My wife… the woman who held me through nightmares… was their killer. And now, she was planning to kill our child. After my parents died, I had drowned in self-blame. I believed my insistence on confronting Stella was the reason they were on that road. It was a guilt so profound it broke my mind. During the worst of my episodes, doctors had to strap me to the bed, because the moment I was free, I’d try to hurt myself, to claw my way out of a life I couldn’t bear. And through all of it, Annelise was there, whispering, “It wasn’t your fault, Ethan. It was a tragic accident.” It wasn’t an accident. It was proof of her love for another man. And now, to ensure Nate’s child would have an undisputed claim to the Prescott family fortune, she was willing to sacrifice her own. My parents’ bodies, my entire life, and soon, the life of my unborn child—all of it buried beneath the monument of her twisted devotion to Nate. My hands began to shake uncontrollably. I thought of just an hour ago, how I’d knelt and pressed my ear to her still-flat stomach, giddy with joy. The child I had prayed for for three years was in there. But it was also the child of my parents’ murderer. As I sat there, paralyzed by the horror, Annelise walked in and found me on the floor. “Ethan? Honey, what’s wrong? Get up, the floor is cold. Are you not feeling well?” The concern in her eyes was so potent it was almost tangible, identical to the look she’d given me every day for the past five years. She was a master of her craft. For five years, her entire world had seemingly revolved around me. If I so much as coughed, she’d stay up all night, a hand on my forehead. I dropped my gaze, unable to bear the sight of that fraudulent fire in her eyes. “I’m fine. Just… got a little light-headed. I guess the news about the baby finally hit me.” She breathed a sigh of relief, kneeling down to help me up with that familiar, gentle strength. “Oh, you,” she murmured, patting her own stomach. “Naughty baby, making your daddy fall down already. Just wait until we meet you, I’ll have a thing or two to say.” She smiled up at me. “Speaking of which, Ethan, come with me to the clinic tomorrow for a check-up. We’ve waited so long for this little one, we can’t take any chances.” Her gaze drifted down to her abdomen, her expression softening into a portrait of maternal love. If I hadn’t heard that phone call, I would have believed every word. I would have seen a loving wife, an expectant mother. Now, I saw only a monster. I wanted to scream the questions at her. Will we really get to meet this child? Did you ever want him at all? Instead, I swallowed the acid in my throat and nodded. “Let’s get some sleep, Annelise. I’m feeling tired.” She didn't suspect a thing, nodding as she switched off the lights. I lay in the darkness, rigid, listening to her breathing even out beside me. Hours later, a soft murmur escaped her lips in the quiet of the room. “Nate… Oh, Nate…” A single, hot tear finally broke free, tracing a path from my eye into my hairline, and was gone. I slipped my phone from under the pillow, the screen a harsh glare in the dark. I sent a text to my sister in London. Kate, I need your help. Please, I need your help. I’m coming to you in a few days. Wait for me. 2 The next morning, Annelise took me to the private clinic affiliated with the Prescott Corporation. As we approached the doctor’s office, the door opened and Nate walked out. Seeing him alone, Annelise’s carefully composed face tightened with worry. “Nate? What are you doing here? Where’s Stella? Isn’t today her prenatal appointment? Are you sick?” Her questions tumbled out, her concern raw and undisguised. I had to laugh at myself. A bitter, silent laugh. How had I been so blind for so long? Was her acting that flawless, or was I just that stupid? A faint smile touched Nate’s lips, soaking in her worry like a sponge. “Things have been crazy at the office, a situation at one of the branches. I came in for a check-up, feeling a little run down. Stella’s staying at her parents’ for a few days.” He looked from her to me. “What about you? You’re not sick, are you?” Annelise flushed, a flicker of discomfort in her eyes. She seemed reluctant to answer. I decided to answer for her. Feigning a blissful smile, I placed a hand on her stomach. “She’s pregnant,” I said, my voice smooth. “I was worried about her, and the baby. Just wanted to get everything checked out.” I knew I had already lost this war, but for one single, fleeting moment, I wanted to reclaim a shred of my dignity. It worked. The color drained from Nate’s face. “What? You’re pregnant?” He quickly schooled his features, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “Well. A baby is wonderful news. I’m just… surprised. You should go on in.” Before she went into the exam room, Annelise told me she’d had to fast for some of the tests and hadn’t eaten breakfast. She asked me to go down to the cafe and grab her something, insisting she’d be fine on her own. A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice. Now, watching her back disappear into the clinic, a cold certainty settled in my gut. I bought a coffee and a croissant and came back up. As I expected, the exam room was empty. I walked down the hall and heard voices coming from a stairwell. I found them there, tucked away between floors. Nate’s brow was furrowed, his handsome face marred with displeasure. “You told me you would never have his child. Why are you pregnant?” Annelise wrapped her arms around his waist, reaching up to smooth the lines on his forehead with her thumb. Her voice was a placating murmur. “We were always careful. This was an accident, Nate. I’ll handle it. I’ll take care of this baby myself.” She soothed him. “Don’t be upset over something so small. It hurts me to see you unhappy.” My feet felt like lead as I walked back to the waiting area and sank onto a bench. Her words echoed in my head. Something so small. Killing her own child was a small thing. Nate’s unhappiness? That was the main event. “Why are you waiting out here?” Annelise’s voice pulled me from the fog. “I just ran to the restroom. Let me go ask the doctor if the results are ready.” I just nodded, watching her walk back into the office. A few minutes later, she emerged, her face a mask of sorrow. She knelt in front of me, bringing her eyes level with mine. “Ethan,” she began, her voice catching. “I have to tell you something. I need you to promise me you won’t get upset. Please, don’t fall apart.” “The test results… they’re not good. There are… developmental problems. So this baby… we can’t keep him.” I knew this was coming. I had heard the entire script. But a desperate, stupid part of me still hoped. I stared directly into her eyes. “Annelise, I’m only going to ask you this once. And I want you to tell me the truth.” She nodded solemnly, her expression one of deep sympathy. I took a breath. “Is there really something wrong with our baby? Are we really not going to have him?” 3 For a split second, a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. But before I could even process it, her voice, steady and firm, cut through the air. “Yes.” Looking into her unwavering eyes, I finally gave up the fight. I closed my own and gave a heavy, final nod. The moment I agreed, Annelise was a whirlwind of efficiency, arranging the procedure with the hospital staff. The Prescott family clinic was nothing if not effective. An hour later, she was being wheeled into an operating room. She was back in a private recovery room in less than thirty minutes. My gaze fell to her flat stomach. My throat burned. Yesterday, there was a life in there. Now, there was nothing. She noticed where I was looking. “Ethan, don’t be sad,” she said, her voice soft and consoling. “We’re still young. We’ll have another baby.” My heart seized in my chest. Will we? Annelise, will we really? Before I could speak, a cheerful voice cut in from the doorway. “Hey, don’t look so down, Ethan! The baby’s gone, but you still have Annelise.” It was Nate. “Look at how much she cares about you,” he continued, strolling into the room. “Fresh out of surgery, and her first thought is to comfort you. What a wife.” He feigned a wince, rubbing his temple. “You know, I’ve been having these headaches lately. I think I’ll check in for a couple of days, get a full workup. We can keep each other company.” I looked up at him, not missing the triumphant glint in his eyes. I barely knew Nate. I knew he and the Prescott sisters had grown up together, the classic childhood friends. They’d lost touch when he went to college overseas while they stayed in the States. I met Stella in college. It was immediate for me. I fell for her the first day I saw her and spent the next year trying to win her over. I knew from the start she had an ex, someone she’d broken up with because of the distance. But once we were together, Stella swore to me that Nate and his entire family were gone for good. That there was no chance they’d ever get back together. I believed her. Our relationship grew serious. She introduced me to her family and friends, including her older, more reserved sister, Annelise. And then came our wedding day. Stella got the call that Nate was back in the country, and she dropped me, dropped everything, to marry him instead. In that moment, I understood that in our four years together, she had never, for a single second, forgotten him. What I didn’t know was that Nate wasn’t just Stella’s long-lost love. In all the years Stella was waiting for Nate… Annelise had been waiting for him, too. I looked at him, standing there gloating, and my voice came out colder than I’d ever heard it. “You should call me brother-in-law.” 4 Nate froze. Annelise immediately jumped to his defense. “Ethan, he’s just trying to be friendly. Why do you have to be so difficult?” She sighed, a sound of pure exhaustion. “You know what, I’m not feeling well after the procedure. Why don’t you go home? You can handle some things at the office for me. I’ll call you tonight when you can come back.” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, sucking the air from my lungs. Annelise is Stella’s sister. I am Annelise’s husband. Nate, as Stella’s husband, is my brother-in-law. It was a simple statement of fact. And for saying it, she was kicking me out. In front of Nate, she couldn’t even be bothered to keep up the pretense. I left. Hours passed. The sun went down. Annelise never called. Instead, a text from Nate lit up my phone. Annelise is having some abdominal pain. I rushed back to the hospital. As I neared her room, I heard it. A series of low, rhythmic moans that made the hair on my arms stand up. The door was cracked open just enough to see inside. And what I saw burned itself onto the back of my eyelids. Nate and Annelise, tangled together in the hospital bed, their bodies moving in a frantic, desperate rhythm. “Right here in the hospital,” Annelise panted, her voice thick with pleasure. “So thrilling.” Her pale arms were wrapped around his shoulders. “Not so fast,” she gasped. “Be gentle… I just had the surgery today.” Nate didn’t slow down. “Doesn’t that make it more exciting? Tell me you didn’t miss this.” As he spoke, he turned his head slightly. His eyes met mine through the crack in the door. And in that instant, I understood everything. Nate did this on purpose. He sent the text. He left the door open. He wanted me to see. I saw the taunting smile play on his lips. I lowered my gaze, reached out a steady hand, and gently, quietly, pulled the door shut for them. I had never seen that wild, unrestrained side of Annelise. In our three years of marriage, even in bed, she had always been tender, controlled, almost serene. Did she love him this much? Enough to risk her health, her body, just hours after a medical procedure? It turned out she wasn’t a cold person. The fire just wasn’t for me.
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