On my wedding day, my fiancé died in a horrific car crash on his way to pick me up. I became a widow, and the child in my belly, a posthumous orphan. After that devastating blow, I developed a severe psychological illness. Countless times, I yearned to end it all, but everyone pleaded with me to hold on for the sake of my unborn child. On the day of the funeral, my brother-in-law and his wife, who lived overseas, returned to pay their respects. Staring at his face, an identical copy of my late husband’s, I repeatedly fell into a daze. But then, I overheard a conversation outside my mother-in-law’s bedroom: “You faked your death and fled your own wedding for this woman? Mia is carrying your child, Julian! Did you put on this whole act just to bring that conniving vixen home?” After a long pause, my brother-in-law’s voice finally came, soft and quiet. “Valentina has a terminal illness. Doctors say she has six months, at most. Once those six months are up, Mia will be due, and everything will go back to normal. We’ll be a happy family of three again.” In that moment, a chilling truth pierced through me: My husband wasn’t dead at all. This so-called brother-in-law was my husband, Julian! I fought to control the violent tremors shaking my body. I typed a frantic message to Liam, my brother, who worked for an overseas covert operations unit. “Liam, help me stage an accident! So he wants to fake his death? I’ll give Julian a taste of his own medicine!”
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking even after I sent the message. The conversation inside the room continued. “Is this really fair to Mia? If it weren’t for her child, she would have followed you to the grave. She’s so distraught, a ghost of herself, barely touching her food – it was killing me to watch her.” Julian sighed deeply. “But Valentina only has six months. This is her only wish. I can’t let her down.” “As for Mia, we have a lifetime together. I’ll make it up to her later, Mom, don’t worry…” My heart clenched, a vice grip squeezing the life out of me. Searing pain ripped through every fiber of my being, leaving me breathless. I stumbled back to my bedroom, my knees buckling as I collapsed onto the floor. Just then, Liam’s call came through. “Mia, what’s wrong? What happened? Julian’s dead, isn’t he?” I wanted to say something, anything, but the moment I opened my mouth, tears streamed down my face, unstoppable. Yes, in the eyes of the world, Julian was dead. I understood Liam’s confusion. Even I hadn’t imagined Julian would fake his own death, and the reason was for another woman. Though I said nothing, Liam on the other end must have sensed my distress. After a long silence, he spoke softly. “I’ll send a plane to pick you up the night after tomorrow. I’ll arrange everything else.” After he hung up, I remained frozen, phone still in hand. Just then, a soft knock came at the door. Standing outside was my brother-in-law, holding a glass of milk. Or rather, Julian, holding a glass of milk. “Mia, what’s wrong? Why are you sitting on the floor? Are you crying? Are you thinking about Julian again?” For the past half-month since Julian returned, posing as my brother-in-law, he had been nothing but kind to me, seemingly treating me as his deceased brother’s wife. Countless times, faced with his concern, I felt a familiar haze. Mrs. Hastings always attributed my daze to my profound grief for Julian. I quickly locked my phone screen, forcing a shaky smile. “Nothing, just felt a bit unwell suddenly. Lost my footing for a second.” Julian visibly relaxed, placing the milk aside. He carefully helped me up from the floor. “This little one, so disobedient. Just wait until they’re born, your uncle will have a word with them.” “Come on, get up. I warmed some milk for you. Drink it and get some rest. Don’t think too much. If Julian saw you like this, he wouldn’t be at peace.” Hearing that name on his lips, I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I looked up, meeting his eyes, and questioned him, word by word. “Are you really not Julian?”
Julian froze, then chuckled softly, gently stroking my head. “Don’t be silly. How could I be Julian? Drink your milk and go to sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll take you for your prenatal check-up. A tummy ache isn’t a small matter.” “This is the only bloodline Julian left in this world. I have to make sure they arrive safely.” I lowered my gaze, refusing to look at the fake concern in his eyes. “Please leave. I’m a bit tired and want to rest.” It wasn’t until the soft click of the door closing that the tears I’d held back all evening finally burst forth. Julian and I met at our university’s freshman orientation. He fell for me at first sight, pursuing me relentlessly. We naturally fell in love. Two years after graduation, Julian gave me a grand proposal. I still remember it vividly: fireworks exploded all around us, their brilliance reflected in his eyes, but his gaze was even more captivating than the dazzling display above. While planning our wedding, I discovered I was pregnant. Julian had been overjoyed. “The baby’s timing is perfect! They’re here to celebrate Mommy and Daddy getting married. Mia, I’m the happiest man in the world.” To this day, I still didn’t understand why Julian, who had cherished me for six whole years, would cheat, even going so far as to fake his death to avoid our wedding. The next morning, Julian knocked on my door early. “Mia, it’s time for your prenatal check-up today. Are you ready?” But as we were about to leave, Valentina’s voice called out from behind us. “Julian, I’m not feeling so well today. Could you stay home with me?” Hearing Valentina’s voice, Julian didn’t even glance at me. He rushed directly to her side. “Did you forget to take your medicine again? If you’re not feeling well, you should lie in bed. Don’t walk around, what if you faint?” After he finished speaking, Julian turned and looked at me. “I’m so sorry, Mia. Your sister-in-law isn’t feeling well, so I probably can’t go to the hospital with you.” “Don’t worry, the driver is waiting outside. He’ll get you to the hospital safely. I’ve already made arrangements with the doctor, just go straight there.” I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. When I reopened them, I didn’t miss the fleeting flicker of triumph on Valentina’s tanned face. I didn’t say a word, just nodded and walked straight out of the house. The dull thud of the door closing echoed behind me. My hand instinctively rubbed my belly, and tears finally began to fall, thick and fast. Mike, the driver, delivered me to the hospital on time. I completed all my examinations as instructed by the doctor. Julian had previously warned Mike and the doctor that if I didn’t show up, he’d get suspicious. I sat on a hospital bench, meticulously examining the ultrasound report. In the black and white image, there was a tiny circle, the size of a peanut. The doctor said, that was my child. But I couldn’t accept that my child would have a faithless father. I fiercely wiped away my tears and registered at a different hospital. This was Julian’s family’s private hospital. If I had the procedure here, Julian would surely find out. I called Mike, telling him I wanted to go shopping alone and that he could go back first. I hid behind the hospital’s main entrance until Mike’s car disappeared from my sight. Only then did I step out and hail a taxi to another hospital. Before entering the operating room, my phone buzzed with a video message. The video was half an hour long, showing Julian in a frenzy of passion. I had never seen him so out of control. For six years of our relationship, Julian had always been gentle, even in bed, always careful not to hurt me. It was then I realized he wasn’t inherently reserved; the one who ignited his passion was never me. I watched that video, almost masochistically, wanting to see the Julian I never knew. I don’t know how long I watched, but then a nurse walked up to me. “Ms. Mia, are you alright? It’s time for your surgery.” As the video played on, I had been crying harder and harder. It wasn’t until the nurse spoke that I realized I was trembling uncontrollably, my hand clutching the phone shaking violently. And I made a shameful discovery: even now, I still loved Julian.
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