Four miscarriages for the last years. But this morning, I stared at the pregnancy test and saw two pink lines. I cried until my throat ached. I pressed the test to my chest and whispered, “Please stay. Please stay with me.”
I wiped my tears, stood up, and started planning how I’d surprise my husband tonight, especially that it was also our anniversary and he prepared a dinner for us. We have been waiting for this baby!
But then a notification popped up on my phone. A charge from our shared credit card. It was 2 million dollars from Tiffany Co.
A smile tugged at my lips. Maybe he bought me a necklace for our anniversary. Maybe he’s finally planning something romantic again and forgot that we shared the credit card.
I grabbed my bag, fixed my hair, and rushed out. I can’t wait to see his face once he finds out about our baby.
But fate decided to surprise me first.
Halfway down the street, right behind the jewelry boutique, I saw him. Lewis. Standing outside, holding a tiny black velvet box—a necklace.
And standing in front of him…
Victoria. My adopted sister… whom I haven’t seen since four years ago because she was busy traveling the world due to her work.
At first, my brain tried to give them innocent explanations.
Maybe he’s helping her choose something for me. Maybe they wanted to surprise me with that necklace.
But then Lewis opened the box. Victoria gasped softly, touching her chest. Then Lewis leaned closer. Too close. I want to give them the benefit of the doubt, maybe just a brotherly kiss since they always have been close, but then Victoria kissed him on the lips, and they both laughed at each other.
The world blurred. My ears rang. My knees weakened, and for a moment, I thought I was actually fainting.
Lewis… my husband…
Victoria… my sister…
I stumbled back as quietly as I could, swallowing the scream rising in my throat. My vision tunneled as I forced myself into a cab and went straight home. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I felt hollow, like someone scooped out my insides and left only air where my heart should be.
That night, my phone buzzed.
Lewis:
Love, I’m so sorry. I’m swamped. We’ll celebrate tomorrow instead. I promise.
Tomorrow?
After kissing my sister today?
I turned my phone face-down and crawled under the blanket. I didn’t reply.
The next morning—the day our anniversary dinner was supposedly moved to—I didn’t prepare. I didn’t shower, didn’t dress up, didn’t even brush my hair. I just curled up on the couch in my pajamas, knees to my chest, staring at absolutely nothing.
Every time I blinked, I saw it again. Lewis and Victoria kissing like a happy couple.
My chest tightened until it hurt. A quiet sob escaped, then another, until I was crying so hard I couldn’t breathe. I pressed both hands over my mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but it didn’t stop. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to believe. I just knew my world had cracked open, and I was falling through it alone.
My phone buzzed.
Then again.
And again.
I didn’t move.
Lewis:
Nadine? Where are you?
Another message.
Lewis:
Love, please answer me.
Then another.
Lewis:
I’m getting worried. You’re not at the restaurant. What’s going on?
And then:
Lewis:
I prepared a surprise for you. Please don’t disappear on me like this.
A fresh sob tore out of me.
Surprise. Yes. I got my surprise yesterday.
I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the tears fall until my throat felt raw. I didn’t have the strength to respond. I didn’t want to hear another lie. I didn’t want him to twist the truth or play innocent.
So I stayed where I was—broken, silent, and pretending I didn’t see his calls.
Until later, when the door finally opened.
And Lewis walked in, face stormy with concern.
“Nadine! What happened?” he rushed over. “Why weren’t you at the restaurant? I said we’re supposed to have a date. Are you… are you mad because it got canceled on our anniversary yesterday? I’m making it up to you now—”
My hand moved before I thought.
SLAP.
His head snapped to the side.
“You’re a liar,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “A disgusting liar.”
Lewis’s eyes widened. “What? Me? A liar? What are you talking about?”
“Where were you yesterday?” I asked, tears finally burning behind my eyes.
“In the office!” he insisted. “Where else would I be? Why—?”
“Stop lying,” I choked out. “Where is the necklace you bought?”
He froze. Just for a second. But it was enough.
My heart clenched. “Lewis. I saw you. I saw you with Victoria.”
Confusion filled his face—too perfect. Too practiced.
Then his expression shifted.
A quiet exhale.
A dramatic sigh.
“Okay,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for lying.”
My chest tightened.
“But… Nadine… that wasn’t me.”
I blinked. “What?”
“It wasn’t me you saw,” he explained softly. “It was Maxon.”
“…Maxon?” I frowned. “Your twin brother? Lewis… he drowned. Years ago.”
“I thought so, too. We all did,” he said quickly. “But he survived. Lost his memories. He came back weeks ago. I didn’t know how to tell you because I wanted it to be special. He met Victoria by accident and… they’re dating now. We planned to surprise you yesterday but I got busy with work, and was supposed to be today but you didn’t come to the restaurant.”
I stared at him.
“So… it wasn’t you?” I whispered.
“Of course not,” he laughed shakily, pulling me into his arms. “I would never hurt you. I love you so much.”
My arms remained stiff at my sides, but he didn’t seem to notice.
A moment later, the front door opened.
“Hey,” a voice said.
I turned. And there he was. Maxon—Lewis’s identical twin you won’t even know the difference—standing beside Victoria.
They waved awkwardly.
Something in my chest twisted painfully.
Lewis kissed the top of my head. “See? Everything’s fine now.”
But something wasn’t.
That night, Lewis thought I was asleep.
I wasn’t. I heard him in the hallway, voice low, smug.
“Come on, twin brother,” he said on the phone, chuckling. “She’s stupid enough not to know we switch places, and even foolish not to know I was the one killing our child so she had miscarriages for the last years.”
