I Was Never His Choice Just a Pawn for Her Survival Novel – I chased after my fiancé for seven years, but he still loved my stepsister. To push me into breaking off the engagement, he released private photos of me all over the city. That same day, my mother suffered a ticker attack in a car accident and was rushed to the hospital. In my darkest moment, Christian Scott—my childhood friend and secret crush—appeared.
He arranged emergency care for my mother and stayed by her side all night. A week later, my mother passed away. After the funeral, Christian proposed to me with a diamond ring. He said he would protect me for the rest of my life. Moved by his sincerity, I accepted. Three years later, we were the envy of others. People said Christian adored his wife.
We were expecting a child, due in eight months. That day, after a prenatal check-up, I ran into Christian and my ex-fiancé, Lucas Carter, arguing in the hospital corridor. “Why won’t you let me see Vivian?” Lucas growled. “Don’t forget,” he added grimly, “you were the one who made the choice that changed Madeline’s life forever.” Their words sent a chill through me. I froze, unable to believe what I was hearing.
Their argument went on, back and forth, full of accusations and half-truths. I stood in the shadows, ticker sinking, realizing something terrible had been kept from me. Memories began resurfacing—moments I had ignored. Every year, Christian insisted we attend Vivian’s birthday. He always picked out the gifts himself. When Vivian was sick, he’d drop everything to care for her. I thought it was kindness. I was wrong.
He said he loved my long hair and white dresses, so I wore them for years—never realizing I was mirroring Vivian’s style. What I mistook for love was convenience. I was a stand-in. A cover. Then came the final blow: the accident that led to my mother’s death had not been an accident at all. My body trembled from the cold of the truth. The person I loved most may have used me to protect someone else.
In despair, I walked numbly back to the gynecology department. “Doctor,” I said quietly, “I’d like to… terminate the gestation.” The doctor looked at me in disbelief. “You’re already in your third trimester. Have you really thought this through?” I didn’t answer. Ultimately, she refused the request but referred me to psychological counseling instead. That night, I didn’t sleep. The next day, I packed a box with the child’s ultrasound photo, some children clothes, and a letter.
I bought a fake belly and hid the truth. When Christian came home drunk that night, he pulled me into his arms and whispered against my forehead, “Madeline, I loved you… I really did.” He bent down to my stomach. “Just one more month and we’ll meet our little one.” I forced a smile. “I prepared a gift for you.” I handed him the box.