Pregnant by My Stepbrother

The year I graduated college, I took the bold step of giving myself to my stepbrother.

On our wedding night, he held me down and demanded sex relentlessly until dawn.

When I woke up, he looked at me coldly and said, “I gave you what you wanted. Are you satisfied?”

Then he got dressed and left without another word.

A month later, I discovered I was pregnant and shared the news with him happily.

He didn’t reply.

Nine months later, the baby was born. He barely survived a dangerous amniotic fluid embolism. The first thing I did upon waking was tell him I’d given birth to a daughter for him.

Still, he said nothing.

When Emily was two years old, the doctor gave a critical illness warning on the day of her heart surgery.

Terrified, I called him over a hundred times.

He didn’t answer.

For the next three years, there was no sign of Charles Shaw, and everyone assumed he was dead.

I accepted it and took Emily to the overseas beach she’d always dreamed of visiting.

As we reached the edge of the sea, we caught sight of a grand wedding.

The bride was my best friend; the groom was my husband.

I woke up instantly, my heart pounding.

The day I burned my wedding photos and left, my phone was suddenly flooded with messages from Charles.

I decided never to go back.

——

I took Emily and returned home.

I intended to pack my things and leave, but the house was empty.

When I asked the servants about my mother, they hesitated and refused to give clear answers.

My father died young, and after that, I followed my mother when she remarried into the Shaw family.

I knew her position in that family had always been vulnerable.

Worried for her, I pressed the servants until I learned they’d gone to a hotel.

I didn’t have time to ask more and rushed there anxiously.

The moment I pushed open the hotel door, I froze.

Unexpectedly, Charles and Sophie Song’s wedding was happening on stage.

Not content with holding it abroad, they had to celebrate in our own country, in grand style.

Charles wore a sharp suit, standing amid flowers on the wedding stage.

When Sophie saw me, her face instantly went pale.

She staggered over, stammering, “Grace, I... I’m sorry. Please, can you listen to my explanation?”

She knew everything — I had shared all my feelings with her since childhood, including my love for Charles.

That quiet, cautious love was now trampled beneath their feet.

Her voice trembled and tears welled up in her eyes as she said, “I saved him by accident, but he lost his memory and remembers nothing. He can’t live without me.”

Charles looked at me with the coldness of a stranger.

He frowned and said in a harsh tone, “Are you trying to cause trouble?”

There was a clear threat beneath his words.

My mother hurried over and grabbed my arm.

“Grace, don’t get upset. Sophie is injured and can’t be provoked.”

My eyes burned with tears, voice trembling, “Mom, you only care about him? What about me? Can’t you see all the suffering I’ve endured?”

But she just shook her head, anxiety clear on her face.

“Stop making trouble. Sophie can’t handle it now.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer. Every ounce of patience I had was gone.

I stepped forward, tears streaming down my face, “Charles! Do you really not remember anything?

Our daughter, our past — have you forgotten it all?”

His eyes were full of annoyance.

“My wife is only Sophie. She’s the only one I love.”

He paused, then said coldly, “Other people’s feelings don’t concern me.”

My chest tightened painfully. It was hard to breathe. The world spun around me.