He Made Me Jump While Carrying Our Twins

The tight bindings around my wrists were finally undone. My arms dropped lifelessly to my sides, numb and burning from the prolonged strain. As soon as the ropes released their cruel grip, my knees gave out and I crumpled onto the icy marble floor, unable to hold myself up.

It wasn’t kindness that freed me—just the butler’s conscience or maybe his pity that finally won out after endless pleading. Still, the damage was done. My strength was gone, my voice hoarse from sobs that had long since gone dry. I curled inward, instinctively cradling my swollen belly with what little energy I had left. My baby was alive. That was all that mattered.

Even as my body begged for rest, my thoughts refused to go quiet. They dragged me backward—to when everything was simpler. When I still believed Lucien’s love was real.

Back in college, Lucien was untouchable. He belonged to someone else—Vanessa. The campus adored her: effortlessly elegant, brimming with confidence, the kind of beauty that drew admiration wherever she went. I had nothing compared to her. I was the quiet shadow. The invisible admirer watching from the distance, never daring to hope.

Then came the day that changed everything.

I had overheard Lucien and his group planning to go paragliding. Dangerous, thrilling—typical of someone like him. I told myself I just wanted to see him from afar. But then, disaster struck.

His parachute failed.

I still remember how my breath seized as he plummeted from the sky, his body a blur against the rocks below. Chaos erupted around me—friends screaming, some frozen, others in disbelief.

But I didn’t freeze.

Terrified of heights or not, my legs moved. I climbed down the craggy cliffside, my fingers raw, my body trembling. I pushed through the panic, the vertigo, until I found him. Barely breathing. Unconscious.

“Stay with me,” I had whispered shakily, my hands gripping his arm. “You’re going to be okay.”

With nothing but sheer willpower, I pulled him upward, dragging him inch by inch. My skin tore. My muscles screamed. And somehow—I saved him.

When we were finally out of danger, my body gave in. I collapsed next to him and slipped into blackness.

By the time I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed, bandaged and sore. Relief hit first—Lucien was alive. That was all I cared about.

But then I heard his voice.

Soft. Grateful. “I knew you’d come for me.”

I turned my head and saw him lying beside Vanessa, her fingers laced with his. And I understood. She had stolen my moment—my truth. She had taken credit for saving him.

And he believed her.

I could have spoken then. Could’ve told him it was me. But who would he believe? The nameless girl in the next bed… or the woman he loved?

So I swallowed the truth and buried it deep.

Years passed. Vanessa left him. Somehow, life brought Lucien back into mine. Without her in the picture, he noticed me. We grew close. We laughed together. Talked late into the night. I dared to believe—just for a second—that maybe he had started to love me.

But I was never the one.

It had always been Vanessa.

A broken sob slipped past my lips as I curled tighter on the floor, fingernails digging into my palms. I had been so foolish. So blindly in love.

And now I was here—being punished for something I never did.

I must have drifted into an exhausted sleep, because the next thing I heard was the sound of something clattering beside me. A plate had landed roughly on the floor, food scattering across the marble. Some of it rolled beneath the furniture.

Lucien stood over me, his expression unreadable—hardened by fury or apathy, I didn’t know which.

“I told you to eat,” he said sharply. “You think starving yourself will fix anything?”

I opened my mouth, but before a single word could leave, the butler cautiously stepped forward.

“Sir… she’s pregnant. She’s not well. We should call someone. A doctor, maybe—”

“Shut up,” Lucien snapped, his voice turning to ice. “You open your mouth for her again, and you’ll be looking for a new job.”

The butler shrank back, eyes lowered in submission.

Lucien’s attention shifted back to me, his eyes cold and brimming with disdain. “Eat it. Off the floor. Or don’t. I don’t care if you starve.”

His words hit me like a slap, but I didn’t flinch. I had no strength left for anger.

My hands curled into fists. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to throw the plate back and tell him he wasn’t a god. But instead, I forced myself to speak, my voice nothing but air.

“Let’s just get a divorce.”