The Paternity Test They Begged Me Not to Take

Sabine's POV

In the delivery room, my husband Ronan fumed that having a male doctor was a disgrace. My mother-in-law Coralie griped about the hospital bill. His sister Ophelia clung to his arm, pinching her nose and mocking the smell of the room.

In my previous life, today was the day the doctor ordered an extra blood test due to my in-laws' history of blood disorders. Two Type-O parents had somehow produced a Type-B daughter.

Coralie pointed at my nose, calling me a whore. Ophelia fueled the fire, sneering, "Just admit it, Sabine." Ronan slapped me off the delivery bed, demanding the name of my "lover."

I died having no way to prove my innocence, losing both my life and my daughter, Sorrel.

It wasn't until moments before my death, when I pushed open the master bedroom door, that I finally understood: the two people tangled naked in my marital bed were my husband and his own sister.

I opened my eyes. I was back to the morning after giving birth to my daughter.

—

The pain dragged me out of the darkness.

I opened my eyes to a dull white ceiling. An IV dripped steadily into the back of my hand. I looked down; my stomach was flat.

I had been reborn.

The door pushed open. Ronan walked in, hair perfectly groomed. Ophelia clung to his arm, pinching her nose. "God, the smell."

"Sabine," Ronan said, tossing his briefcase onto a chair. "A male doctor delivered your baby? You let a guy watch the whole thing? I bumped into Miles in the parking lot. His wife is on this floor. He asked how the baby was, and I didn't even know how to look him in the eye."

"The nurses said he was the only obstetrician on the floor last night."

"Then you should've waited," he snapped, his face tight. "Waited for a female doctor."

"I crashed my car into a guardrail, Ronan," I said, word by word. "I was bleeding out. Dr. Hawley said if I was forty minutes later, neither the baby nor I would have made it."

"Well, you're both fine now, aren't you?"

Heels clicked at the door. Coralie walked in holding a convenience store soup, her makeup smeared from the night before.

"As long as she's fine," she said, dropping the soup on the nightstand. "When I had Ronan, there were no beds. I waited eight hours to give birth. Girls these days are just fragile."

She grabbed the stack of medical bills from the foot of the bed.

"Emergency, blood transfusion, extra bed... Twenty-six thousand dollars? Sabine, Ronan works himself to the bone, and you blow through his money without blinking."

I stared at her. "Coralie, where were you last night?"

She didn't bat an eye. "Sleeping at home."

"I called you eleven times."

"Do you think being a birth partner is easy? I've been living at your place for two weeks, cooking your meals. The second my head hit the pillow, I was out cold."

Ophelia chimed in instantly. "If Mom heard it, she would've answered. Besides, we know your temper. You probably just grabbed the car keys and sped off without telling anyone."

She walked over, glancing at the IV in my hand, then looked up at Ronan. They shared a split-second look.

I was out of energy.

"Give me my phone," I said. "I need to call my parents."

Ronan pulled it from his briefcase but kept it tightly in his grip.

"Fine," he said. "But while you have them on the line, let them know from me."

"Know what?"

"Sabine, for five years, you haven't earned a dime. The house is mine, the car is mine, the bills are mine. My mom ran herself ragged for you, and my dad pushed aside his business. Shouldn't your parents show some appreciation? You can't just be a parasite forever."

The curtain from the next bed was abruptly ripped back.

The woman there, Cosima, had just given birth two days ago. Her husband, Kael, who had been peeling an apple, slammed his knife down on the table.

"Buddy, get this straight," Kael said. "Your wife was just in a car crash. She had a difficult labor and almost died on the table. You don't ask if she's okay; instead, you bitch about the doctor's gender and try to extort her parents? Does your family have no soul?"

"This is family business," Coralie flushed red. "My daughter-in-law is spoiled and ungrateful. She needs to be taught a lesson!"

"That's not teaching a lesson," Kael shot back. "That's bullying."

"She's overreacting!" Coralie raised her chin. "When I had Ronan—"

"Mom, Dad will be here soon. Don't let him see you fighting with strangers." Ophelia yanked her back and pulled the curtain shut.

I closed my eyes.

In my past life, I laid here just like this, speechless and broken.

Shortly after I went home, Coralie fired my nanny. The $200,000 check my parents gave for Sorrel ended up in Ophelia's bank account. The day I rushed a feverish Sorrel to the clinic, Coralie sold my dog Rook and my cat Kaelin to pay off her casino debts, lying that they ran away.

Then came the blood test. They called me a slut, and Ronan threw the divorce papers in my face. To leave me penniless, they confiscated my phone and IDs, cutting off all my lifelines.

I shifted my gaze back to the phone in Ronan's hand.

In this life, I would not be a sitting duck.