Faking Sickness To Avoid Vows, His Regret Knows No Bounds

Before the wedding, Sebastian Lewis had been kidnapped while picking up my wedding dress.

He didn’t die, but the trauma erased all memories of me. Whenever marriage came up, he would faint.

The doctor explained it as a result of post-traumatic stress, causing him to develop a second personality.

By coincidence, I discovered I was pregnant.

The doctor’s words echoed in my mind. “The child may awaken the part of him that loves you deeply.”

With hope blooming in my chest, I rushed to find him, pregnancy test in hand.

But fate had other plans. As I arrived, I overheard a conversation between him and his friends.

“Sebastian, you really know how to play it. To avoid marriage, did you even create a second personality? What’s next, a third or fourth?”

“No way! I love Brianna. I’ll deceive her just this once, but after sleeping with ten others, I’ll stop.”

“Is your appetite that small? Ten isn’t even enough to unlock all the positions. Just pretend for another year or so. Brianna Sandoval will never marry anyone but you!”

He glared at his friends, his expression cold. "I can’t stand seeing her so miserable! You better get me some girls, flirty virgins, one every three days. No delays in my wedding with Brianna!"

Shaking, I ripped up the pregnancy test and turned away. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. I made my way to the hospital to schedule the abortion.

——

When the doctor saw me walk in again, his face tightened in concern. As soon as I told him I was going through with it, disbelief flashed across his face.

"This baby... it was hard for you two to conceive. If you abort it, it might make Sebastian's condition worse!"

I forced a bitter smile and shook my head. "If I tell him, he might be the one who becomes seriously ill."

He was still lost in his self-destructive world, unable to free himself from it.

I couldn’t fathom it; the man who once begged me to marry him was now pretending to be ill, using deception as his shield.

The doctor, unable to sway me, insisted on calling Sebastian when I signed the form for the surgery.

"Miss Sandoval, this child isn't just yours. Even if he refuses to accept the baby because of his illness, he should at least come and sign the papers with you and be there for the surgery. That way, if any misunderstandings arise, they can be cleared up face to face..."

I gently placed my hand on my stomach, silently accepting his words.

After all, with polycystic ovary syndrome, getting pregnant had been a challenge in itself.

But Sebastian didn’t care. He had even fought with his parents to marry me. Now, if he wanted to abandon this child, the least he could do was come and see it through.

But as soon as the doctor finished speaking, he let out a mocking laugh.

"How much did Brianna pay you to put on this show? I already told you I don’t even know her, let alone marry her!"

"Tell her to stop using these tricks to force me. Whether the child is mine or not is still up for debate!"

His cold, heartless laughter echoed in the quiet operating room, a stark contrast to the rhythmic beeping that filled the silence.

I signed the papers for myself and closed my eyes, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

When I woke up in the operating room, several messages flashed across my phone. All of them were from Sebastian.

[No matter how things were between us before, now I’m me and you’re you. If you’ve got the energy to find someone to act and deceive me, you should just move out of my house!]

He’d been considerate enough to rent a place for me in the same neighborhood, leaving the key ready for me to move in. He even paid the first month's rent. To avoid suspicion, the contract was for a year.

[For the sake of our past, you don’t have to repay me for this.]

I glanced at the bloody, distorted image of the embryo, my heart feeling heavier, but my response remained calm.

[Okay, thank you.]

The rent was the last bit of responsibility he was fulfilling for this child.

I stayed in the hospital for three days, but he never contacted me again. Still, his social media was a constant stream of wild parties. It was as if he was desperately trying to reclaim the freedom he’d missed out on all these years because of me.

I knew he was posting for my benefit. But I couldn’t see those updates from the other account I had made just to follow him.