PREGNANT For MY SISTER’S HUSBAND

Chapter one

I watched as my sister flipped through the pages of the wedding dress collection and felt my heart squeeze, almost at the brink of explosion.

I sat on the opposite sofa, plastering a fake smile on my lips, but inside I was fighting a war in my heart. My twitching fingers trembled uncontrollably as I watched my mom pat my sister’s back while their eyes stayed fixed on the wedding dress collections.

“Mom, I think this is great. Aaron wants my wedding dress to be covered in tiny diamonds, filling up every space,” she blushed, a wild smile curving her lips, and my mom chuckled.

Aaron! That name makes my head fuzzy!

Two weeks from now is my sister’s wedding, which should be a good thing, but my whole world crashed when I found out it was Aaron.

My college boyfriend. Back in school, he was an expert in his acting skills, and eventually, he traveled out of the country. Before we parted, he promised to call and text me every day. He did—for a few weeks—but suddenly he stopped. No calls. No texts. Nothing.

Weeks turned to months, and months turned to years of me waiting for his call. Until one day, I saw him on TV—ACTING!

I wasn’t an expert in social media, but I did some research and found out he had become a billionaire actor—successful and famous!

It dawned on me then, and I didn’t speak to anyone. I slowly suffocated in the shadows of heartbreak.

Until one fateful day—Zara, my sister, who was just a small-time actress, happened to be featured in a movie. And guess who was also in it, playing the hero? Aaron.

It started out like a joke—until Zara broke the news of Aaron proposing to her.

That day, my whole soul crumbled.

But all those years, I never revealed myself to Aaron—or even to Zara—that he and I once shared a past. I just watched them in silence.

Silence that kills.

Silence that destroys.

Silence that eats away at every part of your soul, day and night.

I watched them date, hiding my pain in silence. But this wedding… I’m not sure my heart will survive it. Because I love Aaron.

“Sarah, please come here. Which gown do you think would suit me?” my sister called, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“You know, I’m getting married to a star. I need to look my best,” she chimed cheerfully, glowing with joy.

I dug my nails into my palm and forced a smile that burned my throat.

“Yes, Zara, you need to look your best.”

“Awwn, come sit with me and give your opinion.”

I stood up slowly, my legs trembling, and sat softly beside her.

She dropped the book on my lap and flipped through the pages, revealing breathtaking wedding gowns. With each page I turned, jealousy clung to my heart like a virus.

I’m the one who’s supposed to be getting married to Aaron.

I’m supposed to be his official wife.

“Are you… okay, Sarah?” Zara’s warm voice snapped me out of my daze, and I jolted slightly.

“Yes, I am… why?” I asked, trying to sound normal.

She smiled softly. “It’s nothing. Your expression just shifted, and it scared me for a moment.”

“I think what Sarah needs is rest. She’s been stressing about her court case. You know being a lawyer isn’t easy,” Mom replied in my defense, and I forced a broken smile.

“Yes, Mom, thank you for your understanding. I’m just stressed. I have a court case situation,” I giggled nervously. I wasn’t handling any court case or stressful clients, but thank God for Mom’s quick words.

“Oh, dear, I’m glad to hear that.”

“So, which one did you pick?” Zara asked.

I looked back down at the book and pointed to a diamond-patterned gown. “This one. This is great,” I said.

She smiled. “Thank you.”

As much as I wanted to forget Aaron, I couldn’t. I tried so hard to accept this wedding, but I couldn’t. We never even broke up. There was no fight, no goodbye.

What was his excuse?

“Well, guess what?” Zara’s voice rang out with excitement, pulling everyone’s attention back to her.

“What?” Mom asked.

“Aaron has already decided the country we’ll go to for our honeymoon!” she chimed, her face glowing with blush.

“Congratulations. Which country?” I asked, my voice shaky despite my efforts to steady it.

“He’s saying Singapore, Japan, Australia, or France. I don’t know which to pick yet.”

Wow. Just wow.

Any moment from now, I might pass out. This is too much for me to handle.

I need to leave, I need to find my space, I'm going to pass out!

I needed to leave. I needed space. If I didn’t, I was going to pass out.

I got up in a rush, my heart racing, sweat sliding down my forehead.

Every eye in the room landed on me. “I… I need to head out. My client and I have a meeting. I don’t want to be late.” The words scraped their way out of my throat, my lungs burning.

Mom nodded, and I walked toward the exit, legs trembling. The moment I knew no one was watching, I bolted outside, gasping for air.

This was harder than I thought. I didn’t know if I could handle it. Tears threatened, but I sucked in a deep breath.

I need to calm down. I can’t let this get messy. I won’t survive it if it does.

Just then, a taxi slowed in front of me. I waved it down and climbed in. “Machello Night Club,” I said, still breathless. The driver glanced at me through the mirror — I already knew what he was thinking.

Why would a woman be heading to a club like that? Not just any club, but the kind of place people whispered about. Expensive. Wild. The kind of place people judged you for. But I didn’t care. I just needed to drink until I felt nothing.

When the taxi stopped at the gates, I paid and walked straight in. The pounding bass and flashing lights swallowed me whole. I pushed through the crowd to the counter.

“Good evening, pretty. How may I help you?” the bartender asked.

“VIP section. I need to be alone,” I said, my voice trembling.

His eyes widened. Of course. A girl like me asking for VIP — he was probably wondering where I got the money.

I didn’t answer. I just scanned the code, and the machine beeped. Payment Successful.

His mouth dropped. “Here’s your card, ma’am.” A black card, carved with a lion’s head. Table 16.

I was escorted to the section, where the security guard stopped me at the door.

“Card?” he asked coldly.

I handed it over. He checked it once, then stepped aside.

Inside, the noise softened. The walls were soundproof, the atmosphere calm, almost too perfect. My eyes landed on Table 16, and I sank into the seat. I waved for a waiter.

“One bottle of whiskey,” I said.

The waiter blinked. “You mean one shot?”

I frowned. “Don’t make me repeat myself. A bottle.”

He bowed quickly and left. Moments later, the whiskey was in front of me. I poured, I drank. Once. Twice. A third, fourth, fifth time. Slowly, the burn spread through me, dragging me down into a haze.

And then, I noticed him.

A man in the corner of the VIP section, dressed in black, cigarette in hand. Tattoos curved up his neck, his features sharp, unreadable. His eyes stayed on his phone, until suddenly… they didn’t.

He looked up.

Our eyes locked.

And my soul froze.

Time itself stopped.

AARON.