He Chose His Ex's Dying Sister Over Me
Juniper Marlow · Completed · 6.5k Words
Introduction
When his ex-girlfriend died saving his life, I held him through every nightmare. When he said he "wasn't ready" for marriage, I waited. When he whispered "soon," I believed him.
Then her sister showed up. Crying about some terminal illness. Begging him to take care of her.
He let her move onto our private island—the one he promised would only ever belong to us.
He introduced her at the gala where he was supposed to announce our engagement.
He got her pregnant.
And when I told him she was lying about everything, he looked at me like I was the monster.
Then came our wedding rehearsal. She walked down the aisle in my dress. He slid his ring onto her finger. The chapel caught fire. I collapsed, bleeding.
He scooped her up and ran. Didn't even glance back.
So I burned my vows, deleted every trace of myself, and vanished.
This time, I wasn't coming back.
Chapter 1
My fiancé got his dead ex-girlfriend's sister pregnant. Two months along.
But that wasn't the first time he betrayed me.
I found them at Elise's grave—Beckett's first love, the woman who saved his life six years ago.
Her sister Sable was standing beside him at the headstone, one hand resting on her belly.
She saw me first.
"Sloane." Her voice was soft, almost pitying. "We didn't expect you here."
Beckett turned. His jaw tightened.
"Sable wanted to visit her sister. I couldn't let her come alone." His eyes dropped to her belly. "Not in her condition."
Her condition.
I stared at the slight curve beneath her white dress.
"How far along?"
Sable lowered her eyes. "Ten weeks."
Ten weeks. So it happened while I was visiting my father. While Beckett told me he was "handling family business."
"You've known for two months," I said. "And you didn't tell me."
"Sloane—"
"A year ago, she showed up claiming she had the same disease that killed Elise. You dropped everything for her. Doctors, specialists, treatments—I understood. I told myself it was just guilt. Just obligation."
He said nothing.
"Six months ago, at the family gala—the night you were supposed to announce our engagement—you introduced her instead. 'Someone very important to the Calloway family.' I stood there like a fool while everyone whispered."
"The Fairchild alliance—"
"And now she's carrying your child."
Sable's eyes welled with tears. She clutched Beckett's sleeve, her voice trembling.
"I'm so sorry, Sloane... I never meant for this to happen. I just... I'm dying. The doctors said I might not survive the birth." A tear slid down her cheek. "I only wanted to know what it feels like to be a mother. Just once. Before I..."
She couldn't finish. She buried her face in Beckett's chest, sobbing.
He wrapped his arms around her, his voice low and soothing.
"It's okay. Don't cry. Stress isn't good for the baby."
I stood three feet away, watching my fiancé comfort another woman carrying his child.
Sable pulled back, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry... I feel dizzy..."
Beckett's whole body tensed. "What's wrong? Is it the baby?"
"I just need to sit down..."
He looked at me. Not with guilt. With impatience.
"Sloane, go back to the island first. I need to take her to the doctor."
"Beckett—"
"We'll talk later."
He was already guiding Sable toward the car, one hand on her back, murmuring reassurances.
She glanced over her shoulder at me. Through her tears, I caught it—a flicker of something cold.
Then she leaned into him and let out another sob.
Two hours later, I sat in the bank manager's office.
"Miss Huxley, liquidating all your accounts will take approximately seven business days."
"That's fine."
Seven days. I could hold on for seven more days.
I signed where he pointed, then walked out into the cold afternoon air.
Seven days, and I would disappear from Beckett Calloway's life forever.
The island felt different when I stepped off the boat.
Beckett had promised we would get married here, in the family chapel overlooking the sea. He designed the ceremony himself. Wrote his vows by hand. The vintage wine we saved for our wedding still sat in the cellar. My dress still waited in the closet.
None of it would ever be used now.
I pulled out a suitcase and started to pack.
I was halfway done when I heard the boat engine.
My hands froze.
No one came to this island. No one except me and Beckett. That was the rule. That was the promise.
I moved to the window.
Beckett stepped off first, then turned to help Sable onto the dock. She took his hand, her other palm resting on her belly.
She looked up at the villa and smiled.
My chest seized.
Minutes later, Beckett appeared in my doorway.
"The doctor said she needs complete rest. No travel, no stress." He loosened his tie, not meeting my eyes. "The island is the best place for her recovery."
I stared at him.
"She might not survive the birth, Sloane. She just wants to feel like a mother before she dies. Even if it's only for a moment."
From downstairs, Sable's voice floated up—soft, tearful.
"Beckett, thank you so much... It's so beautiful here. Elise would have loved it. I feel like she's watching over us..."
His expression softened.
"Once the baby is born, I'll send her away," he said, already turning toward the stairs. "I promise. She won't be in your life anymore."
Then he was gone.
I heard him murmur something. Heard her laugh—a small, grateful sound. A door closed.
I sank onto the bed.
This island was supposed to be ours. The chapel, the roses, the house he built for our future.
Now she was here. In our sanctuary. Carrying his child.
I couldn't sleep.
At dawn, I found myself standing in the white rose garden beside the chapel.
"You're up early."
The voice came from behind me.
I turned.
Sable stood at the garden entrance, wearing a white dress with lace trim. Her hair was pinned back the same way Elise wore hers in the photos around the villa.
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