
The Fiancé's Warning, Her Second Chance
My fiancé, Jadon, proposed on the Fourth of July. It was the perfect moment I had dreamed of since we were kids. That night, he called me on FaceTime.
But the man on the screen wasn't him. It was a version of him from five years in the future, his face hollow with regret.
He laid out a horrifying timeline of betrayal. He was sleeping with my best friend and business partner, Kimberly.
She would use his venture capital to steal my architectural firm. She would sabotage my father' s life-saving kidney transplant, leaving him to die.
And she would maliciously cause a future pregnancy to end in tragedy, murdering our unborn child.
My entire world-my love, my friendship, my future-was a lie. The two people I trusted most were plotting my complete ruin.
This broken man from the future, desperate to atone, gave me a roadmap to escape. So I drove my car off a cliff and faked my own death, determined to rewrite the story they had written for me.
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Chapter 4
Elinor Flowers POV
I bombarded future Jadon with questions for three days. He resisted. He pleaded with me to let it go. But I wouldn't. I needed to know. I deserved to know.
On the second night, I lay awake with my hand on my stomach. The faint curve was barely there, but I could feel it now—a hardness, a presence. Lily. I tried to imagine a future where I kept this baby. Where I told Jadon, where we raised her together, where Kimberly's schemes somehow didn't touch us.
But every scenario ended the same way. Kimberly would find out. Kimberly would act. And I would lose Lily anyway—only later, only after I'd held her, named her, loved her in the flesh. After I'd seen her face.
I wasn't choosing to end a life. I was choosing which way to lose her. Fast and clean, on my terms, before Kimberly could make it slow and bloody. That was the choice future Jadon had given me. Not a good choice. Just the less cruel one.
By the third morning, I had made my decision. I didn't tell him. I just let him keep talking, filling in the gaps of a future I was already rewriting.
Finally, he gave in. His words came in a torrent, each one a fresh stab to my heart.
"You were five months pregnant when it happened," he wrote. "Jadon... he was consumed with Kimberly's new venture. He was pouring all his energy into it. He spent every night at her office. You were alone. Taking care of yourself."
My vision blurred. I remembered those weeks. I had been so tired. So nauseous. Jadon had been distant. He said work was crazy. He was "investing" in Kimberly's firm. He said he was helping me, too, by expanding "our" network. It was all a lie.
"Kimberly found out you were pregnant," future Jadon continued. "She saw your medical records when she was 'cleaning up' your office. She panicked. She knew a baby would solidify your place. She knew she'd never have Jadon then. She became desperate."
My breath hitched. A cold dread enveloped me.
"She switched your prenatal vitamins. With a drug that induces miscarriage. You had a hemorrhage. A massive one. You were rushed to the emergency room."
My stomach clenched. I relived the phantom pain, the terror.
"Jadon? He was with Kimberly. Celebrating her birthday. He was unreachable. By the time he got to the hospital, it was too late. You lost the baby. A girl. Seven months along. You could see her face. She looked so much like you."
"You had already picked a name for her. Lily. You never fully recovered, Elinor. The grief… it broke you."
My hand flew to my belly. My baby. My precious girl. Lily. She was real. She was inside me. This child, the one I had just found out about, the one who wasn't supposed to be here, was Lily. The horror of what Kimberly planned, what she would do, was unbearable.
At four in the morning, I drove to a private clinic. The streets were deserted. My mind was eerily calm, focused. I walked in, my resolve hardened to steel.
"I need to terminate my pregnancy," I told the doctor. My voice was steady.
The doctor looked at me, her expression kind but searching. "Are you absolutely sure, Ms. Flowers? It's a big decision."
I closed my eyes. "Yes," I said, the word a whisper, but firm. "I am sure."
The procedure was quick. Painful. But I didn't cry. I couldn't. After it was over, I folded the ultrasound pictures, the proof of a life that would never be, and tucked them deep into my wallet. A secret grief. A necessary sacrifice.
That afternoon, I drove my parents to the airport. I had convinced them to take an extended vacation, a trip to Europe I had "won." I had secretly arranged for them to live in a secure, anonymous location, under new identities. They believed it was a luxury trip. I told them specialist doctors in Switzerland would monitor my father's heart condition.
"Why the long face, sweetheart?" my father asked, hugging me tightly. "Are you sad to see us go?"
I forced a smile. My throat ached. "Just a little, Dad. I'll miss you both."
I watched them disappear through the security gate, their figures growing smaller and smaller. My parents. Safe. That was all that mattered. I sank to my knees, shaking, silent tears streaming down my face.
That night, I walked into Jadon's apartment for the last time. He was in the living room, immersed in a financial report. He looked up, a warm smile touching his lips.
"Hey, you're back," he said, closing his laptop. "Long day? Did your parents enjoy their fantastic 'prize'?"
I sat across from him, my gaze fixed on his face. This man, my childhood sweetheart, my fiancé. The man who would allow my family to be destroyed. The man who would enable my best friend to murder our child.
"Jadon," I said, my voice quiet. "What would you do if I wasn't here anymore? If I just… disappeared?"
He put down his report. He took my face in his hands, his eyes full of concern.
"What are you talking about, Elinor?" he said, his voice firm. "Don't say things like that. If you disappeared, I would find you. I would search the ends of the earth. You're my world."
He kissed the tip of my nose. His voice was full of conviction. "Please, don't ever leave me."
He pulled me into a tight embrace. I buried my face in his neck. His scent, familiar and comforting, filled my senses. It was the last time. I knew it. This was the last time I would ever let myself lean on him.
I would disappear. He would search. But he would never find me. Not the real me.
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