My Sister's Fiance Became My Husband But She Wants Him Back.

Emma POV

I hit the floor hard. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and instinctively, my hands flew to my stomach. Protecting it. Protecting the baby that no one else even knew existed yet.

Before I could catch my breath or try to say anything, Mr. Bennett's hand came down again. Another slap to the side of my head that made my ears ring.

"You worthless piece of trash! Why would Sophie try to kill herself over someone like you? You're the one who deserves to die!"

Each word came out through clenched teeth, dripping with disgust. He hated me. I could see it in his eyes, pure, unfiltered hatred.

"Dad, it's okay. Really. I'm not meant to be with Dylan anyway. Please don't blame Emma."

Sophie's voice drifted from across the room, soft and broken, punctuated by quiet sobs.

My lip was still bleeding, the corner of my mouth throbbing and swollen. My head felt like it was full of static, buzzing with pain. But I forced myself to lift it anyway, to look up.

And there they were.

Sophie was leaning against Dylan's chest, and he was holding her so carefully. So gently. His eyes were soft in a way I'd never seen them, at least not when he looked at me. His whole face radiated tenderness as he whispered something to her, probably telling her everything would be okay.

They looked like they belonged together. Like they were two halves of the same whole.

It twisted something deep in my chest, sharp and cruel.

If that night three months ago had never happened, Dylan would be with Sophie right now. He'd be her fiancé, her future husband. Not mine. And Sophie wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed after trying to end her own life.

Even though I didn't plan any of it, even though I never meant for things to turn out this way, the guilt crashed over me like a wave.

"Sophie, you're still defending that witch right now?" Mr. Bennett's voice rose again, furious and incredulous. "If she hadn't trapped Dylan, you'd be Mrs. Carter by now! You wouldn't be so heartbroken you'd want to kill yourself just because you and Dylan got separated. You're too kind. Too forgiving. That's why she keeps taking advantage of you!"

His words stung, each one like salt in an open wound.

"Dad, please stop..." Sophie's voice wavered. She turned her face to look at me, and her eyes were red and swollen from crying, held something that might have been pity. Or maybe sadness. "Emma, if you loved Dylan, you should have told me. I wouldn't have fought with you over him. Why did you have to do it like this? I'm so disappointed in you."

"Sophie, I didn't…" I started to say, but the words barely made it past my split lip before Mr. Bennett cut me off.

"How dare you say it wasn't you!" His face turned an alarming shade of red. "Are you really going to keep lying, you awful…" He stopped himself from finishing the curse, but barely. "Fine. If you want to be stubborn, I'll beat the truth out of you!"

He grabbed a chair from beside the hospital bed, lifting it above his head.

My blood ran cold. My hands instinctively went back to my stomach, covering it protectively as I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Why are you still here? Do you want to die?"

Dylan's voice cut through the chaos, cold and sharp as ice.

I opened my eyes. Mr. Bennett had frozen mid-swing, the chair still raised above his head. He was staring at Dylan.

My whole body was shaking as I scrambled to my feet, every muscle screaming in protest. I had to get out of there. For the baby. I had to protect the baby.

I kept my head down, couldn't bear to look at any of them. My face was swollen and hot, probably already turning purple. I covered it with one hand and limped toward the door as fast as I could manage.

Behind me, I could hear their voices, accusing, angry, disappointed. But I didn't look back.

When I finally made it to the hospital entrance, I reached for my phone to call another ride.

It wasn't in my pocket.

My heart sank. I must have dropped it somewhere in that room during all the chaos. The thought of going back there, facing them all again, made me feel physically sick.

But I needed my phone.

Taking a shaky breath, I turned around and headed back.

When I got to the elevator, the doors slid open right as I approached.

And there he was. Dylan, stepping out.

He stood there looking perfectly composed as always, tall, confident, his handsome face completely unreadable. He stood out even in a crowded hospital hallway, the kind of person your eyes just naturally gravitated toward.

But something felt off. Why was he leaving already? Shouldn't he be up there with Sophie for longer?

I didn't let myself think about it too much. I kept my head down and quickly stepped into the elevator before the doors could close.

I felt like a criminal sneaking around. My heart was pounding as I rode back up to Sophie's floor, creeping down the hallway like a thief trying not to get caught.

There, my phone was sitting in the corner by the wall, right where it must have fallen during everything.

I grabbed it quickly, my hands still shaking, and was about to leave when I heard it.

Sophie's laugh. Bright and energetic, coming from inside the room.

"God, I feel so good when I think about how that pathetic country girl got beaten until she couldn't even lift her head."

Country girl?

I froze. My blood turned to ice in my veins.

Was she talking about... me?

"If I hadn't walked into the wrong room that night, I would've been the one who spent the night with Dylan! How could I let that trashy country bumpkin take advantage of it? I feel absolutely sick whenever I think about Dylan being with her!"

Every word hit me like a physical blow. My face went completely white. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.

The truth was right there, forcing its way into my brain even though I desperately didn't want to believe it.