Betrayed and Broken by the Twin Brothers

I woke up to the faint smell of disinfectant and a harsh white light burning behind my eyelids.

For a second, I forgot where I was. Then the memory hit me like a truck.

My throat tightened as I blinked slowly, forcing my eyes open. A nurse noticed and hurried toward me.

“You’re awake,” she said gently. “Let me call the doctor.”

I tried sitting up, but a dull ache rolled through my body. My palm instinctively moved to my stomach.

The baby. Before the panic could rise, the doctor entered, flipping through my chart.

“You fainted due to the wrong medication,” he explained. “But the baby… the baby is still alive.”

My breath hitched.

A part of me thought I’d feel relief. Joy. Something warm. But all I felt was a hollow ache.

Because that baby… I didn’t even know who the father was.

Killian or Ken? And either way, the truth was poison.

The doctor watched me carefully. “Do you want to hear the heartbeat later?”

I shook my head.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Ms. Hale?”

My voice cracked. “I want to schedule a termination.”

He froze. “You want an abortion?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “As soon as possible.”

He took a slow breath, as if choosing his words very carefully. “Amber… with your medical condition, you know how difficult it was for you to conceive.”

I said nothing.

“If you go through with this,” he continued, “you may never be able to have a baby again. Are you absolutely sure?”

My heart twisted. But I nodded.

He studied me for a moment—sadly, almost sympathetically. “All right. I’ll schedule it in three days.”

Three days.

Three days to erase the last tie I had to Killian. Three days to start over. Three days to finally breathe.

As the doctor left the room, I sank back against the pillow, my mind drifting—slipping back into memories I tried so hard to bury.

Flashback, two years ago.

I was balancing two bags of cheap groceries and a pile of textbooks when I saw her fall.

Killian’s grandmother, Rosie. I didn’t know who she was back then—just an old woman clutching her chest on the sidewalk, gasping for air, her eyes wide with panic.

My instinct kicked in instantly. I sprinted over, letting my bags drop, and lowered her gently to the ground.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” I asked, checking her breathing. Weak. Shallow.

A heart attack. I grabbed my phone, dialing emergency, while performing the steps I’d practiced a thousand times in training. I stabilized her, kept her talking, monitored her pulse until help arrived.

By the time the ambulance doors closed, she was already squeezing my hand.

“Don’t let go,” she had said with tears in her eyes. “You saved me.”

I didn’t know then that she meant it literally. I didn’t know that moment would reshape my entire life.

A day later, her family rushed into my life—Killian included. He didn’t pay much attention to me at first. He was polite, distant, always busy.

But his grandmother… she clung to me.

“You’re special,” she’d said. “You saved me. Let me save you.”

Back then, I was dirt poor—living in a cramped apartment with my sick mother, juggling shifts at the hospital while studying to become a doctor on a scholarship that could be taken away any moment.

I had nothing. No stability. No future I could hold in my hands.

So when Grandma suggested I marry her grandson… I thought it was too good to be true.

A home. Security. A family. A chance to chase my dreams without worrying about food or medical bills.

And Killian… he smiled at me. Warm. Gentle. Or at least, I believed it was warmth.

We spent two years waiting for the marriage ceremony. Two years of dinners, dates, soft conversations, his hand brushing mine. Two years of waking up beside who I thought was him.

Two years of believing he loved me. Now I knew it was never him.

It had always been Ken. Killian’s twin. The wrong brother.

And Killian… The real Killian… was in love with someone else.

Everything connected in a way that made me sick.

A soft knock pulled me back to the present. A nurse stepped in with a small plastic container. “I brought you some water. You should rest.”

I nodded gratefully and took a sip, though my stomach churned at even the slightest taste of anything.

My eyes fluttered closed. I let myself drift for a moment, drifting in that blurred space between exhaustion and numbness.

The peace lasted all of thirty seconds.

My phone vibrated violently on the bed beside me.

I reached for it, expecting a message from the doctor—or maybe even Killian, pretending to care.

But the sender made my blood turn to ice.

Hospital: URGENT — Patient: Maria Hale

My mother. My heart lurched violently. She was staying in the heart hospital center.

Just as I reached for my clothes, my phone vibrated again. This time—it was her.

I answered instantly. “Mom? Mom, are you okay?”

Her voice came weak. Thin. Like she was speaking through cotton. “Amber… sweetheart. I’m okay, what about you?”

Tears stung my eyes. “I’m fine, Mom. What about you? What happened? Why did the hospital message me?”

She gave a soft, trembling laugh. “I just… wanted to hear your voice. I don't think… I don’t think I can wait for your wedding anymore.”

My chest cracked open. “Mom, don’t say that. Please—don’t talk like—”

“Listen to me,” she whispered. Each breath sounded heavier than the last. “You’ve always been so strong, Amber. Stronger than me. Stronger than anyone I know.”

“Mom—”

“I’m so proud of you.” Her voice wavered, but she forced the words out. “And I love you. More than anything. You hear me?”

A sob tore up my throat. “I love you too. Don’t hang up, please—don’t hang up.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

The line went dead.

“No—no, no, no—Mom!” I screamed into the static.

I ran—out of the room, down the hall, out the hospital doors. I barely registered the nurse calling after me. I just moved. My legs were jelly, my vision blurry, but I forced myself into a cab and begged the driver to go faster.

The ride felt endless. Every second pressed agony into my chest. When I finally reached the hospital and stumbled into the ICU, the nurse on duty looked up.

One glance at her expression—and the world fell apart.

“Amber…” she whispered gently, stepping toward me. “I’m sorry. Your mother… she didn’t make it.”