Not Your Baby Mama

A week before the wedding, I got in a car crash. The baby was gone. They said my uterus was removed—just like that, motherhood erased.

Grief hollowed me out. I was barely holding on when Jack's voice cut through the room, loud on speaker.

"Jack, you put her on a birth control implant and lied about the surgery? That's messed up."

His tone turned cold. "I can't let my child with Mary be seen as illegitimate. This is the only way to give him my name. As for Stella, I'll make it up to her for the rest of my life."

The world flipped.

I was drowning in grief over my baby, never realizing the whole thing was a setup.

From the start.

"You don't need to worry. Write the report exactly how I said. The wedding's still on. Mary and Stella are sisters—once she's in a dress, no one can tell. At least Mary gets her dream wedding. I already brought the baby back. Stella will be grateful. She'll raise it like her own."

A sigh crackled through the phone. "You're going to regret this. If she finds out, she'll never forgive you."

"She won't."

His fingers brushed over my forehead, then my eyes—gentle. Then, quieter, "I'm all she has. She won't leave. And make sure the driver's death certificate is clean. No loose ends."

The call ended.

He stood there, watching me for a long time.

Then he left.

The moment I knew he was gone, I opened my eyes.

A storm ripped through me.

Jack—you'd really go this far for Mary Browne.

Fine.

This time, I'll give you exactly what you want.

Three days later, while he got caught up in wedding prep, I slipped out of the hospital and went to another one.

I got checked.

I could still have children.

The "hysterectomy"?

A lie.

On the way back, my phone rang.

"Stella, where did you go?!"

Jack's voice came through, breathless, panicked.

"I just stepped out. Needed air. I'm heading back."

"Send me your location. I'll pick you up."

I hesitated, then sent it.

Ten minutes later, he pulled up. The second he saw me, he rushed over and pulled me into his arms.

"Jack, Stella!"

The voice came from behind him.

My body went rigid.

Mary Browne. My half-sister.

Her mom, Anna Darby, wrecked my family.

Now she was Jack's side chick. Of course.

Jack dropped me and went straight to her. "It's windy. Why are you out here?"

"I'm not that fragile."

They got all lovey-dovey like I didn't exist.

Mary suddenly gasped. "Oh—right. Stella's still here."

She pouted, acting cute—still tucked in his arms.

Only then did Jack seem to remember me. Before he could say anything, I opened the car door.

A baby car seat sat in the back. Clear as day.

A quiet laugh slipped out. "What's this?"

"Jack said you can't have kids, so he adopted one. This is for the baby."

Jack jumped in, "Stella, I've thought it through. Childbirth's risky. It's fine if you can't. You'll love this baby."

I said nothing and got in.

Mary tugged at Jack's sleeve. "Jack, I get carsick. Can Stella take the back?"

I looked at him. "I don't feel great either."

Mary's eyes went red. "It's fine. Stella matters more. I'm okay."

"Stella, take the back. Mary's not doing well."

She looked perfectly fine to me.

I didn't move.

Jack grabbed my arm. "Stop making this hard."

He yanked me out of the car. I hit the door, hard. Pain shot through me, and my eyes stung.