A Toast to My Demise

I'm dying at seven months pregnant, and the one behind it is my husband.

Hearing that a premature baby's blood can save my sister, he conspires with a shady clinic to take the baby out through surgery. After draining the baby's blood, he walks away—leaving my fragile preemie to die.

Later, my parents say, "You owe Yvie. It's time to repay her."

My husband says, "We can always have another child. A baby's life can't possibly be more important than Yvie's, can it?

The overwhelming rage and grief cause me to bleed to death. My soul floats above them as I watch them prepare my sister's surgery. They don't even bother to change me into clean clothes.

No one mourns me. No one loses their mind over my death.

Without a care, they wheel me into the morgue and celebrate Yvonne's recovery.

When I open my eyes again, I've gone back three months earlier—to the day my whole family forced me to divorce.

I sat in the luxurious living room, staring at faces once so familiar to me. In a daze, I could almost see the white surgical lights flickering above me.

"Whitney, please… just sign the divorce papers," Mom pleaded, tears filling her eyes. "This is Yvie's final wish!"

She sat across from me and held Yvonne's hand, looking at me as if I were a convicted criminal.

Dad stood by the window, his expression hard.

"Back when you came back, you took Luke from Yvie. That's why she was diagnosed with depression. You owe her this much," he said. "Now that she's near the end, you can't even grant her last wish?"

I rested my hand on the swell of my belly and glanced at Luke, seated opposite me. "Do you also want to divorce me and marry Yvonne?"

He rubbed his brow, frustration etched on his face. "Whitney, Yvie's really sick. I grew up with her and should've been with her. If only you hadn't returned—"

"Stop forcing Whitney!" Yvonne cut him off, her voice trembling. "I know I don't deserve Luke. I'm nothing compared to Whitney…"

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she collapsed into his arms, and he instinctively held her.

"Although Mom and Dad raised me and I grew up with Luke, I'm still not truly part of this family—"

"Yvie, don't say that!" Mom exclaimed. "You'll always be our daughter."

She wiped her tears, her heart aching for Yvonne's plight. But as soon as she turned around, the tenderness in her eyes hardened into fury. "Whitney, you were never a Lane to begin with! How could you refuse your sister's last wish? You're so ungrateful!"

"This is for Yvie," Dad warned. "Don't be so selfish."

"Yvie, trust me. I'll give you a grand wedding," Luke whispered to her, then glared at me. "Whitney, Yvie's your sister. I thought you were kind. We're not going to be a real couple. It's just to fulfill her last wish. You really won't agree?"

I stared at the divorce papers, my hands trembling. In both my past life and this one, they had always stood with Yvonne. Because of a nurse's mistake, Yvonne and I were switched at birth. I had only reunited with the Lane family last year.

At first, I thought I had finally found a home and a family who loved me. But from the moment I returned, I had been an outsider. My parents blamed me for stealing Yvonne’s boyfriend, for taking the love they thought should've been hers.

But they were the ones who had searched the world to bring me back… And Luke was the one who had begged me to marry him.