Three Chances
My husband Liam treated me like glass, always urging me to rest. Not wanting him to overwork, I secretly took a bakery delivery job to help with bills.
Thats how I ended up outside an upscale restaurantand saw them. My parents, who should have been working sanitation jobs, were dressed in designer clothes. And Liam was tenderly serving abalone to another woman, Cathy.
Cathy, darling, he said softly, Eliza is five months along. Our baby will be here soon.
My father slid her the keys to a new Mercedes. My mother fastened a diamond necklace around her neck.
Happy birthday, sweet girl, Mom said lovingly. We know the egg retrieval was hard on you.
You cant have children, Dad added gently. We had to ask you to let Eliza marry Liam. Once your baby arrives, our family will be complete.
Cathy lifted her chin like a princess. Mom, Dad, youve done more than enough letting the maids child use our name.
Liam laughed coldly. If she werent carrying Cathys baby, I wouldnt even look at her.
The cake in my hands suddenly felt heavy. My heart plunged into a cold, dark abyss.
It was all a liemy parents love, Liams devotion.
Even I was the lie.
01
"I've already had the divorce papers drawn up," Liam was saying, his voice a gentle murmur that sent a blade of ice through my veins. "Once we have the baby, I'll find some excuse to get rid of her."
His next words were for Cathy. "And I'll give you the wedding of the century. Cathy, you will be the most beautiful bride in the world."
It was the dead of winter, and my hands were numb with cold, tinged a raw, angry red. But the chill biting at my skin was nothing compared to the frost crystallizing around my heart.
I clutched my swollen belly, my eyes vacant, staring at the people who were once my family, now a gallery of cruel strangers. I was frozen in place.
"Hey, delivery girl!" Cathys sharp voice cut through my daze. "What are you staring at? Get in here! God, are you stupid?"
I flinched, quickly pulling my head down and hiding my face deeper inside the surgical mask I wore for deliveries.
"H-hello," I stammered. "This is the cake for Miss Sterling. Could you please sign for it?"
My father, who had always been so kind to me, now frowned with disdain. He waved his hand at me as if shooing away a stray dog. "Get out of here. You're filthy. Don't you dare get our daughter's cake dirty!"
"Sweetheart, it's from your favorite bakery," my mother cooed, not even sparing me a glance as she lovingly carried the cake to Cathy. "Come on, let's cut it."
The words on the card, which I had personally written just hours before, stabbed at my heart: "Happy Birthday, our darling. Mom and Dad will love you forever."
So this rush order, this custom cake, was from my parents for their daughter.
Just two days ago, it was my birthday. Liam had said he was working late, trying to earn more money for the baby. My parents had shown up with a single, smashed slice of cake, and I had felt so loved, so happy, that I ate every last, slightly sour bite of it.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart!"
Confetti cannons exploded in a shower of glittering color.
My eyes burned as I watched the people I loved most in the world celebrate Cathy. A primal scream of betrayal rose in my throat, but then I caught my reflection in a nearby mirror. My clothes were soaked with rain and sleet. Compared to Cathy in her stunning designer dress, I looked like something youd scrape off the bottom of your shoe.
In that instant, all my courage evaporated. I turned to flee, to escape this nightmare.
"Wait!"
A smirk played on Cathys lips as she glided toward me, a slice of cake on a small plate. "You're pregnant, and life must be hard for you," she said, her voice dripping with false pity. "Here, take this. You deserve a little treat."
Liam chuckled. "See? Our Cathy has a heart of gold." Then he turned his gaze to me, and his tone instantly turned to ice. "Well? Take it. Don't be ungrateful."
My hand trembled as I raised my eyes. Cathy stared down at me, a flicker of pure malice in her eyes. It was then I knew.
She recognized me.
I moved like a robot, reaching for the plate to thank her. But before my fingers could even brush against hers, Cathy let out a sharp cry and threw herself backward.
My mind went blank. Before I could process what had happened, a stinging pain exploded across my cheek. My father had slapped me, so hard that I tasted blood.
"You psycho!" he roared. "How dare you touch my daughter!"
Liam caught Cathy just in time, relief washing over his face before it hardened into a mask of fury directed at me. "You bitch! Cathy was being kind to you, and you pushed her? That's it, you're fired! You'll never work in this town again!"
"My baby, are you okay? Should we go to the hospital?" my mother fussed, her eyes filled with a tenderness I had never seen before, a tenderness that was never for me.
I clutched my swelling face, my voice a raw whisper as I tried to explain, over and over, that I hadn't done anything.
No one listened.
Cathy wrapped her arms around Liams neck, her voice a sickly-sweet whine. "Oh, Liam, darling~ I'm fine. I'm sure she didn't mean it. Just let her go."
As the security guards dragged me out, I instinctively glanced back one last time.
My husband, Liam, was holding Cathy in a tight embrace, refusing to let her go. My parents were fussing over her, their faces etched with worry, telling her to be careful.
What a perfect family.
I swallowed the bitter lump rising in my throat and placed a hand on my stomach, whispering to the life inside me. "Baby... Mommy has to figure some things out."
02
It was nearly ten o'clock by the time I dragged my exhausted, rain-soaked body back to our small, run-down apartment.
I quickly hid my work uniform under the bed and sat in the dark, my mind reeling.
I was just supposed to be a cashier at the bakery. But they were short-staffed today, so Id volunteered to do the delivery. I never imagined it would lead me to a truth that would shatter my world.
My parents weren't poor. My husband, the low-level employee who was always "working overtime," was a CEO, a "Mr. Collins" whom everyone respected.
And they had another daughter. A daughter I never knew existed.
Why? Why would they construct such an elaborate lie? Was it all just to get this baby? Was my entire life, my entire family, nothing more than a cruel fiction?
My hands clenched into fists, my knuckles turning white. Tears, hot and silent, streamed down my face.
"Sweetheart, we're home! Look what we brought you!"
My father was back in his faded, worn-out work shirt, his face once again the kind, familiar one I had always known. He led me to the dining table, a warm smile on his face. "Honey," he called to my mom, "let's heat up the food. Our girl must be starving. The baby needs to eat!"
My mother bustled around, quickly reheating the dishes and setting them carefully in front of me.
"Eliza, your dad's boss treated everyone to dinner tonight. We packed up the leftovers for you," she said. "Come on, eat up. It's all good stuff, things you've never tried before."
"Don't wait for Liam," my dad added. "He's still burning the midnight oil at the office. We already ate. You go ahead."
I forced a smile and looked down at the so-called "good stuff." It was the scraps left over from Cathy's birthday dinner.
I thought back to all the late-night "treats" my parents used to bring mehalf a slice of fancy dessert, a few crab legs. They were all just leftovers from their secret life, their secret dinners with their real daughter.
Looking at my parents' expectant faces, my heart felt like it was being pricked by a thousand tiny needles.
What was I to them? A dog that could be satisfied with scraps from their table?
"I already ate," I lied, my voice flat. "I'm not hungry." I retreated to the cramped silence of my bedroom.
"What's gotten into her today?" I heard my mother whisper.
"Just leave her be," Dad replied. "Pregnancy hormones, you know? Let's just give her some space."
I sat in the dark for a long time before opening my phone. My fingers trembled as, for the first time ever, I typed my parents' full namesJonathan and Anne Sterlinginto the search bar.
The screen filled with photos and articles. The most recent one was from last week: "Jonathan Sterling, CEO of Sterling Industries, and wife Anne attend the annual charity gala."
The bold headline and the glossy photograph shattered the last of my illusions.
Ever since I could remember, my parents had told me we were poor because I had accidentally started a fire that burned down our house when I was a child. I never questioned it. I just worked harder, paying for my own tuition with scholarships and part-time jobs.
But the truth was staring me in the face. My parents weren't sanitation workers. Our family wasn't poor.
They just weren't raising me.
I slid down the wall, a wave of nausea and despair washing over me. As if sensing my turmoil, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. I doubled over, my face pale, trying to breathe through it.
"Eliza? What's wrong? Are you okay?"
Liam was home. He rushed to my side, his face a mask of concern as he gently placed a hand on my belly. "Is it the baby? Let me take you to the hospital!"
I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. Why are you back so early?"
"I couldn't stop thinking about you, all alone here while you're pregnant," he said, his eyes sparkling with a sincerity that used to make my heart melt.
But now, all I could see was the fresh, crimson love bite just above his collarbone. And then, a faint, sickly-sweet scent wafted towards me.
It was Cathy's perfume.
03
Later that night, Liam held me as we slept, just like he always did.
But I wasn't sleeping. My eyes were wide open in the dark. I carefully lifted his phone from the nightstand.
The lock screen was a photo of us on our wedding day. The password was my birthday. Nothing had changed.
I scrolled through his messages, his apps, looking for anything. Finally, I found it: a second, hidden social media account.
And there she was, under the contact name "My Sweetheart." Cathy.
I only had to read a few days' worth of messages before the tears started to flow, silent and unstoppable, soaking my pillow.
All those times Liam was "working," he was with her.
While I was enduring painful injections for the IVF treatments, he was buying her designer bags.
I had never traveled, never taken a vacation, because we were always "saving money." But Liam had taken Cathy skiing in Aspen one day and to see the fireworks in Times Square the next.
He had placed her on a pedestal, worshipped her, spoiled her, all while forgetting that I was his wife.
But then again, this marriage was never about me. It was a scam, a conspiracy to steal a child.
I cried until I had no tears left. The next morning, I booked an appointment for an amniocentesis.
Even now, a sliver of hope remained. My parents were fake, my husband was fake, but this tiny life kicking inside me... I couldn't believe that was a lie, too.
Later that day, after the test, I stared at the paper the doctor handed me, a deep chill spreading through my entire body. When my eyes focused on the numbera 0% probabilitymy fingernails dug into my palms. The sting of breaking skin was nothing compared to the suffocating agony ripping through my chest.
The child wasn't mine.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Doctor," I said, my voice hollow, "I'd like to schedule an abortion. As soon as possible."
"But... you're quite far along," she said gently. "There are risks. Are you absolutely sure?"
I nodded, my lips barely moving. "I'm sure. I accept the risks."
As I waited for the procedure, I stared blankly at the ceiling tiles.
My parents had introduced me to Liam right after college. I was hesitant at first, but the moment I saw himhis handsome face, his cool yet gentle eyesI was completely enchanted. In that instant, the world went silent, and a single thought echoed in my mind: It's him.
For him, I gave up a scholarship to study abroad. I stayed home, by his side, by our parents' side. When he told me he was infertile, I quit my job and devoted myself to IVF, to the endless cycle of pills and injections. I truly believed that once our baby was born, everything would finally be perfect.
"Mom, Dad, I'm fine! I just twisted my ankle a little, that's all~"
Cathys cloying voice shattered my thoughts. I looked up and saw themmy parents, walking down the hospital corridor, their arms linked with hers. Our eyes met.
A flash of awkwardness crossed their faces, and they instantly dropped Cathy's hands.
"Mom, Dad," she whined, feigning confusion. "I thought you were at work. Who is she? Why is she calling you Mom and Dad?"
My father stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. My mother quickly jumped in. "She's the daughter of a coworker. Her mom asked us to check in on her. Don't worry about it, sweetheart."
I let out a soft, cold laugh. "Really? Anyone watching would think you three were the real family."
Just then, Liam came out of a nearby room. He heard my words, and his face darkened.
"Eliza, is that any way to talk to your parents? What's wrong with you? Don't you trust them anymore?" he snapped. "I came with them because I was worried. Stop making trouble. Mom, Dad, Cathy, let's go."
As they turned to leave, Cathy shot me a triumphant, hateful glare. She mouthed two words at me.
I knew what they were.
You mutt.
Moments later, as I was being wheeled into the operating room, I saw Liam leading Cathy out of her own appointment, a full check-up. He glanced in my direction for a split second, a look of relief crossing his face.
She's gone? he must have thought. She probably finished her check-up and went home.
When it was all over, my hair was plastered to my forehead with cold sweat. I placed a hand on my now-flat stomach, and my heart felt like it had been carved out of my chest.
Before I left, I asked the nurse for the embryo. The tiny, palm-sized specimen jar.
Since it wasnt mine, I would give it back to them.
First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "304612" to read the entire book.
MotoNovel
Novellia
Bookworm« Previous Post
A Silken Blade to His Heart
Next Post »
A World Away from Him