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My Unborn Daughter Warned Me Not to Marry Him
Novelix
Completed
The night before my wedding, my unborn daughter visits me in a dream. She's eighteen, and she just died. She tells me if I marry Josh tomorrow, she won't live to see her next birthday, and I'll spend her whole childhood locked in a psych ward. I don't believe her, until I catch Josh in bed with the "sick" girl he swore was just a charity case. I call off the wedding. I walk away with nothing but my baby. But Josh isn't done chasing me, and neither is the woman who destroyed my life once already. This time, I'm not begging. I'm ending it.
Chapters (3)
第1章
The night before my wedding, I passed out on the couch. And then I dreamed of my daughter.
But here's the thing — she's not even born. She's in my belly. Right now.
In it, she's eighteen. Stick-thin, drowning in a hospital gown. And those eyes? Like she's already lived through the apocalypse.
"Mom. Listen. You've got about four minutes before the morning sickness kicks in. So don't interrupt. Just listen."
I try to talk. Nothing comes out.
"I'm your daughter. And I came back from eighteen years ahead to stop you from marrying that bastard tomorrow."
"Right after I'm born, he locks you up in a psych ward. And me? I never even see eighteen."
Bullshit. This is a nightmare. Just cold feet. That's all it is.
Her eyes well up.
"You don't believe me. Fine. Wake up. Go to the penthouse. Now."
"He told you it was a late meeting. So you'd go to your OB alone. But he's not in a meeting, Mom. He's in our bed — with her."
"Then prove me wrong. I dare you."
I jolt awake. Cold sweat down my back. Heart pounding.
My hand shoots to my belly.
Just a dream. Hormones. Just hormones. Josh loves me. Josh would never—
Then, soft, from somewhere deep in my chest, or maybe deep in my belly, I hear her again.
"I'm still here, Mom. I'm not going anywhere until you drive to that penthouse."
I grab my keys.
---
I use my code. The elevator carries me up forty floors. I keep whispering to myself, "She's wrong, she's wrong, she's wrong.”
Then I hear him. Through the bedroom door. That sound. His sound. The one I thought was only mine.
I stand there. One hand on my belly. One hand clamped over my mouth. My eyes burn so hot it hurts.
"Don't marry him, Mommy," she whispers, tired and small. "Don't be my mom. I'm begging you. I don't wanna live that life again."
I back away from the door. My heels don't make a sound on the carpet. Thank God for that.
I spent six months picking out that apartment. Every pillow. Every damn candle. I used to picture our baby crawling on that rug.
Now one more second in here and I'm gonna throw up on it.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" she says softly. "If you still love him, it's gonna hurt way worse. Trust me."
"Saturday's the wedding. You waited ten years for this day."
"But the video they play at the reception? It's not you and Daddy. It's Daddy and her."
"Sloane sets it up. Everyone laughs at you. Everyone points."
"And Daddy tells you to shut up. Says you're acting crazy. Says you're embarrassing him."
I make it to the sidewalk before my legs give out. I grab a tree. I sob into my sleeve like some drunk lady outside a bar at 2 a.m.
"What's your name, baby?" I choke out. "If you're really mine, what did we name you?"
A pause.
"Dawn, Mommy. My name is Dawn."
My knees almost buckle.
Josh and I picked that name in bed three weeks ago. Whispered it under the sheets. Nobody else knows. Not one soul.
My belly cramps again. I drop onto a bench. Breathe. Breathe.
"Just let me go, Mommy," Dawn whispers, and God, she sounds so tired. "Don't fight anymore. Please."
"No." I hug my stomach like it's the last thing on Earth. "No. You're my baby. I don't care what happens later. I am not giving you up."
She cries harder.
"That's the problem, Mom! That's why they break you! You love me too much!"
"You had so many chances to leave, and every single time, you stayed. For me. So I'd have a 'real family.'"
"And it didn't matter! None of it mattered!"
My chest caves in. I bend over the bench, arms wrapped around her.
"Dawnie. Baby. Tell Mommy. What happens?"
"Why couldn't I keep you safe? Why did you die at eighteen?"
The words come out like broken glass in my throat.
Dawn is quiet for a long time.
Then, very small:
"You're right, Mommy. Some people, no matter how hard you fight, were never yours to keep."
---
第2章
Josh doesn't come home until 3 a.m.
I'm curled up on the couch. He loosens his tie and his hand stops mid-air when he sees me.
"Baby. Why are you waiting up again?" He scoops me up like I'm made of glass. Carries me back to bed. "You're gonna wear yourself out. Kills me to see this."
I press my face into his chest.
And I smell it. Citrus. Sweet. Sharp. Orange.
Last year he started smelling like this. Told me the company got a new office diffuser. I believed him. Of course I did.
Now I get it. The whole company switched scents. To match “her”.
My mouth opens before my brain catches up.
"Josh. I hate citrus. Switch it back. Please."
"Roses. Like before."
His hand pauses on my hair—just a beat.
Then he laughs, soft. Flicks my nose.
"Baby, that's such a pain. You don't even come to the office anymore. Later, okay? Be a good girl."
He leans in to kiss me.
That's when I see it. Red smear. Right on his collar.
That's not an accident. She wants me to see it.
I turn my head and gag.
Josh rubs my back. Face full of concern. Oscar-worthy.
"Morning sickness again? What'd the doctor say at your checkup?"
I wipe the tears off my cheeks. My voice comes out flat. "She said I'm tired. Told me to rest."
He opens his mouth to say something else. His phone buzzes.
He drops his hand from my back. Looks down at the screen. And his mouth- I see it; the corner ticks up.
I watch him. Say nothing.
He doesn't ask about the checkup again all night.
---
Next morning, ten minutes after he leaves, I get in my car.
I drive to the office.
There's a white Porsche parked in my spot. Right next to Josh's Tesla.
A girl gets out. Young. Cute. Swipes into the executive elevator like she's done it a hundred times.
My knuckles go white on the wheel.
I walk into the lobby. My painting used to hang on that wall. The big one. The one I made after the worst year of my life.
Gone. In its place, some pretty little watercolor. Signed Sloane Reed.
I keep walking. Past reception. Past his assistant. Straight to the office he gave me. The one right next to the CEO suite.
"My baby doesn't have to work," he'd whispered, holding me. "But the boss's wife needs an office. Always."
The plaque on the door reads: SLOANE REED, EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT TO THE CEO.
The office is empty. But the door on the far wall, the one that connects to Josh's, has sounds coming through it.
Wet ones.
I walk toward it. One foot. Then the other.
I think about the red smear on his collar.
I think about the way his mouth curled at that text.
I think about the nor'easter the night he told me he loved me. Both of us soaked through. Both of us laughing and crying in his crappy studio apartment.
I think about us sitting on the bed with a baby name book, circling Dawn together. So she has light. So she has hope.
I think about Dawn's voice: I didn't make it to eighteen, Mommy.
The sounds get louder.
Yesterday, at the penthouse, I ran.
Today?
I turn the handle.
Sloane shrieks. A sharp, staged little sound. But she doesn't get off his lap.
Josh shoves her aside. Comes at me with his shirt half-open, lipstick smeared on his mouth.
I hold up one hand. "Don't. Don't come near me."
He freezes. "Baby, listen—"
"No."
I swallow the copper taste in my mouth.
"Josh. We're done."
---
第3章
The office is dead silent.
Finally, Josh says, "Sloane. Get the hell out."
She doesn't move. She bites her lip. Big wet eyes.
"Autumn, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. Josh only feels bad for me because I'm sick."
"Yell at me. Slap me. I deserve it. But he loves you. He's always loved you."
Dawn's voice hisses in my head: There it is. Playing the victim card. Classic.
I don't need Dawn to tell me. I can see it on Josh's face already.
He winces. Slides an arm around Sloane. Steadies her like she's about to faint. But he's looking at me when he says:
"Autumn. Sloane has severe depression. She's fragile. Don't do this to her."
I haven't said one word to that girl. Not one.
And he's already decided I'm the villain.
Doesn't matter how bad her acting is, Dawn whispers. Daddy will always, always pick her. See it, Mom. See it now.
I walk to the shelf. I pick up the crystal award. The one Josh had made when he launched the foundation.
I smile. It hurts my face.
"Josh. You remember I had depression too, right?"
His eyes drop to the award. His pupils shrink.
He remembers.
The year I pressed charges against my stepdad for what he did to me. The year my own mother took the stand and lied for him. Got him off. The year I stopped eating. The year I started cutting.
Josh sat on my bathroom floor with me. For weeks. Wouldn't let go of my hand even when he slept. Dragged me out of hell one inch at a time.
Later, the painting I made from that year sold at Sotheby's for a fortune. That money became the seed money for his startup.
He named the charity after me. The Moonlight Fund.
Sloane was one of the girls we saved.
Somewhere along the way, saving me stopped being enough for him. He got addicted to the feeling. Being the hero.
Josh's lips part. Whatever he's about to say.
Sloane cuts him off. Tears streaming.
"The Moonlight Fund saved my life. And I fell in love with him. I couldn't help it. I'm so sorry, Autumn. Josh, I wish you'd never rescued me."
Then she runs. Sobbing. Hair flying. Oscar. Emmy. Golden Globe.
"Sloane!" Josh bolts after her.
Doesn't even look at me when he shoulders past. Doesn't stop.
The award slips out of my hand. Hits the floor. The words MOONLIGHT FUND crack clean in half.
I press both hands to my belly.
Breathe. Breathe. Don't spike your blood pressure. Don't. Protect the baby.
My man is already gone. Has been gone. My job now is to keep this baby safe.
I will not walk this Earth alone again.
---
