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A Toast to My Demise Novel Cover

A Toast to My Demise

Betrayed by her husband, a woman dies at seven months pregnant after he sacrifices their child to save her sister, Yvonne. While her family celebrates Yvonne's recovery, she perishes in grief and neglect. However, death is not the end. Reborn three months before her demise, she wakes on the day she was forced to divorce. Now, she must navigate a web of lies to change her fate and settle the score in this haunting tale of romance and mystery.
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Chapter 2

In my past life, I had clung to them with everything I had. But in the end, I still lost—and I died. Even my baby became nothing more than a sacrifice in their twisted tragedy.

Back then, I had begged them in front of that shady clinic, pleading to spare my child's life. Yet they still pushed me into the operating room.

Memories of my past suffering made my chest ache. Since they hadn't wanted me then, I figured I might as well let them have their way this time.

"Fine. I'll sign the papers."

Everyone was stunned. None of them had expected me, who had been so stubborn and furious, to agree so quickly. In my past life, I had even threatened suicide. But in the end, it was Dad who forced my hand to sign.

Luke and Yvonne went on to have a lavish wedding, even livestreaming the ceremony—while I was locked alone in a bedroom. I had clicked on the live stream, only to have my heart shattered the instant I saw them together on screen. I closed it immediately.

Everyone had shared their joy—except me.

This time, I already knew what the divorce would bring. Why hold on to him? It was pointless.

"Whitney…" Luke hesitated and looked at me. "Have you really thought this through?"

I picked up the pen and signed my name without pause. The black ink cut across the page like a scar, putting an end to the chaos between us.

I chuckled. "Yes. Since you all think I've taken what was never mine, I'll give it back. I know how much you cherish Yvie."

After what I went through before, I finally understood blood ties were not enough for them to love me unconditionally. The scales had always been tipped toward Yvonne, even though she was the real impostor who had taken my place.

Mom and Dad froze. They exchanged a glance, hesitance flickering in their eyes.

A flash of guilt crossed Luke's face. But before he could speak, Yvonne stepped forward.

"Whitney," she whimpered, hiding behind him. "I'm sorry…"

Seeing her cry, Luke immediately pulled her into his arms to comfort her. I simply turned and walked away.

On the day of their wedding, I was given the chance to witness the grand celebration—only because I was cooperative this time.

Light danced across the pristine marble floor as several crew members moved deftly through the room, arranging every detail with practiced precision.

Overhead, a massive crystal chandelier bathed the space in a warm glow, while florists placed white and pale pink roses throughout. Each bloom was a delicate reflection of the couple's love.

Luke stood before me in a white suit. His hand, which was once adorned with our wedding ring, was bare now. But soon, during the ring exchange later, he would wear a new one.

He looked conflicted. "Whitney, you understand, don't you? Yvie's my childhood friend… She's dying, and I can't afford to say no to her. Wait for me, Whitney. Once Yvie's…" His voice trailed off. "I'll give you an even better wedding."

His gaze softened with sorrow. "I still love you."

Love? I had once foolishly believed him, convincing myself that he had to have his reasons.

After all, the way his eyes lit up when we first met seemed genuine. Our relationship was great even after we got married, and when he learned that I was pregnant, he cried tears of joy.

But I remembered how, in my past life, he had taken my child by force for Yvonne's sake. Now, I saw no reason to believe a single word of his lies.

I steadied my voice and met his gaze. "We're already divorced. Save that for your future wife."

He froze, but I continued with a sneer, "Congratulations, my dear brother-in-law."

Without another glance at the knot between his brows or his tight expression, I turned and walked away.

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