My husband's female brother lost a game of finger-guessing and was teased into revealing the most intimate things he'd done with the opposite sex.

She suddenly looked at me with a mischievous laugh and said, "I've helped Ethan Sullivan fly."

The whole room erupted in chaos.

I clutched my five-month-old belly, tight and hard under my hands.

She seemed to only now realize the weight of her words, shrugging casually: "Oh, back when you were first pregnant, he was blacking out and couldn’t help himself."

"No need to thank me, sister-in-law. Just a favor between brothers. Better than him losing control and cheating."

——

Before she could finish,

Ethan grabbed a half-eaten cucumber and smacked Tara Johnson’s hand.

"Shut up! Your knife skills are far worse than my wife's!"

Tara took it with a smile, bit into it, and said with lingering amusement,

"Don’t mention it, it’s about the same size as this."

They laughed together, as if an invisible wall separated me from them.

No one glanced at me. No one seemed to notice I existed.

It was as though my five-month pregnancy had rendered me invisible, a mere background figure.

The game went on. This time, Ethan lost.

The card read: "French kiss with a member of the opposite sex present for three minutes."

Only Tara and I were of the opposite sex.

Yet everyone tacitly pushed Ethan toward Tara.

"It’s just a game! Anyone taking it seriously is an idiot!"

He laughed, she made teasing noises, and a crowd cheered, snapping photos with their phones.

I could no longer tolerate it and slammed my cup on the floor.

Glass shattered, screams erupted.

In the sudden silence, I held my waist, rose slowly, my voice eerily calm:

"Want to try something more exciting?"

"I'll help you!"

I pulled out my phone. "Hey, police officer, there’s a mob here..."

Ethan reacted first, lunging to grab my phone.

"Nicole Jensen, are you crazy? It’s just a game!"

I noticed his hand lingering on Tara’s waist, laughed suddenly, and tears sprang without warning.

"Ethan, how are you going to explain this when the baby is born?"

"That the dad can’t control himself, and the mom is a complete fool?"

Ethan’s face went cold as he shielded Tara, voice tight with anger.

"You’re going too far! I said it’s just a game!"

If this counts as a game, I really can’t handle it.

I turned to leave.

Ethan grabbed my wrist.

"My brother heard you were pregnant and threw a party to celebrate. You have to ruin it like this?"

Another brother smirked.

"Slap!"

I spun around and hit him hard.

The room froze. Tara stepped forward, grabbed Ethan’s neck from behind, and pulled him into her arms.

"Son, listen to your father. Stop being stubborn!"

She smiled helplessly.

"Sister-in-law, Ethan and I have been close since childhood, even sleeping naked together. He never treated me like a woman! Don’t take it so seriously!"

She realized it too late, and nudged Ethan into my arms.

"Hurry up and apologize. She’s pregnant. Keep this up, and everyone suffers."

That sentence made everyone stare at me with disdain.

Ethan froze, refusing to bow.

Tara chuckled, whispered something in his ear.

He twitched his lips, then finally looked at me, reluctant.

"It’s my fault, alright."

A sudden wave of nausea hit.

I left the room without looking back.

I didn’t expect Ethan to chase me.

My stomach ached the whole way, and all I could hear were his complaints.

"Have you lost your mind because of pregnancy? Tara is my brother, and you’re jealous!"

"You might as well tie me to your belt like a dog. You’d suspect anyone anyway!"

"Think about it. If we really had something, would she dare speak out?!"

Something inside me snapped, shattering completely.

"Yes, you’re fine. It’s all my fault!" I screamed, my body trembling.

"I’ve endured you for so long!"

Every past grievance hit me like repeated slaps in the face.

Only I knew how much sorrow this final straw had unleashed.

"Ethan, I’m telling you, when I was hospitalized for appendicitis, you accompanied her to get her nails done. When I was bleeding to protect the baby, you went to play with her dolls. Every time I needed you, you were there for your female brother, even today!"

I gasped, tears streaking my cheeks. "She trivialized those disgusting things right in front of me, and you continued flirting with her as if nothing happened. When I couldn’t bear it and called the police, you didn’t stand by me—you called me hysterical!"

"From that moment on—"

"Ethan, we’re done."

No response.

Then Ethan’s gentle voice pierced my ears:

"Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’ll protect you."

I turned around.

He was wearing headphones, gaming with Tara over a microphone.

…

The sounds of their game battle continued into the night.

I sat alone on the balcony, caressing my belly, which twisted violently, and dialed the doctor.

"Doctor, I want to schedule an abortion."

The next morning,

Sharp pain woke me. I struggled to find Ethan.

He sat on the sofa, legs crossed.

The phone pinged, and he smiled brightly.

I called several times before he looked up. Seeing my pale face, he froze, then hurriedly helped me sit, his fingers lightly massaging my shoulders.

"Honey, I can’t be with you today. President Morgan is waiting to discuss the cruise ship acquisition. We need new travel routes."

His tone was calm, as if yesterday had never happened.

He always did this—let me stew in my emotions all night while he carried on.

It was as if he could simply leave me behind, ignoring the problem.

Pain surged, and I instinctively grabbed his hand, but his other hand stayed on the keyboard, utterly focused, ignoring me.

From outside the villa, Tara’s cheeky voice rang:

"Ethan, your father’s here. What are you waiting for?"

Ethan instantly released me, dropped his phone, and sprinted to the door.

I fell, knocking on his phone with my elbow.

On the screen, a group chat called “Princess Tara and Her Knights” was pinned. I clicked it, frozen.

"Nicole is so pretentious! I told you two weren’t a good match, but you wouldn’t believe me."

"Having someone else at every party is exhausting! You might as well have married Tara!"

Tara sent a tongue-out emoji:

"Lulu, it’s my birthday today. Why mention that annoying person? Ethan said he’d buy me a cruise. I want to face the sea and enjoy the spring blossoms!"

Ethan teased, "Bend over backward to your father. This life belongs to you."

Tara immediately bent over backward:

"Your life belongs to me now. I command you not to bring any family today!"

"Ethan, I saw Tara in a bikini. Whose birthday present is it? [smirk]"

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me, suffocating every breath.

As expected, you can act, but you can’t fake your social life.

When I first tried to fit in, everyone seemed as friendly as angels.

But I took their politeness seriously. They were impenetrable fortresses, and I, forever, the unacceptable outsider.

The cramps worsened, and I trembled as I pulled out my phone, snapping pictures and saving them page by page.

By the time Ethan came in to retrieve his phone, I was already curled up on the sofa in pain.

He didn’t even glance at me, eager to leave.

"Wife, my brothers want to go on a cruise. You’re pregnant and can’t join them, so don’t get involved."

My face went pale as I tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"I have a stomachache. Will you come to the hospital with me?"

Asking questions I already knew the answers to was my last chance to give him a way out.

If he insisted on leaving, I wouldn’t want him anyway.

In the deadlock, Tara smacked her lips and urged, "Hurry up! It’s scorching!"

Ethan shook my hand off, impatience etched across his face.

"What are you pretending to? You were fine just now. I hate it when you bring up the kids."

He shoved me back onto the sofa, and my heart sank.

Tara came in from outside and grabbed Ethan’s ear.

"Are you trying to kill yourself? Why so aggressive? Aren’t all pregnant women like this? They always want everyone around. What’s wrong with being a little caring?"

Ethan snorted, disdain dripping from his words.

"If she were even a tenth as good as you, I wouldn’t be so bothered."

His gaze dropped to Tara’s shoulder straps, and he reached out, adjusting them with effortless ease.

"Little idiot! Can’t you see it’s loose?"

Tara swiped her hair aside, giggling.

"Be gentle! You’re hurting me."

Ethan pressed down on them, grinning wickedly.

"No way! It’s just an airport."

Amidst their laughter, they disappeared around the corner.

I called Henry Morgan directly: "I’ll meet you at your cruise ship later."

The other end replied, "Okay."

Ethan had no idea that Henry was my childhood sweetheart. Over twenty years of unwavering friendship—I knew better than anyone what pure loyalty looked like.

Six years of love, from school uniforms to wedding dresses.

I wanted to see for myself just how rotten this relationship had become at its root.

The sea breeze was salty and fishy.

On the deck of the luxury cruise ship, screams and laughter mingled.

I, wearing sunglasses and a mask, leaned against the railing.

I watched Tara, in a bikini, sitting close to Ethan, who was only in swimming trunks.

A cheesy game of passing tissues ensued.

Tara deliberately bit the tissue until only a corner remained, and Ethan tried to grab it but failed.

"Ethan lost! Accept your punishment!"

Someone jeered, "How about confessing your love publicly? How about Tara?"

Tara giggled and collapsed onto Ethan’s lap, punching his chest lightly.

"Oh, so embarrassing!"

Another shouted, "What’s the point of confessing after all this?"

"Tara, what exactly happened? Tell us everything!"

Everyone laughed, but Tara suddenly turned blunt:

"Look at you! A monkey stealing peaches!"

Ethan swiftly blocked her playful attack, scolding jokingly, "You’re so rebellious!"

Amid the banter, he accidentally grabbed the string of her swimsuit, and it slipped loose.

Tara screamed, and Ethan, almost reflexively, hugged her tightly and yelled, "Turn around! Don’t look!"

The waves rolled beneath them.

He gently helped her tie the string again, his fingertips brushing her bare back.