Chapter 3 WRECKING MY TWIN's FIANCE 3

Chapter 3

"Well. Someone finally got the dessert they've been starving for," Jessica says, setting the blackened tray down gently and pulling off the oven mitts one finger at a time. "Close your legs, sweetheart. You're dripping on my marble."

I instinctively squeeze my thighs together, but a thick drop of Tyler's cum still hits the floor with a soft, obscene sound.

"It just... happened. Tyler was drunk and-"

"Tyler was exactly how I wanted him to be," she cuts in, her voice soft but steady. "I replaced half the bottle of whiskey with Everclear three hours ago."

The words hit me like ice water. Tyler had acted drunk, but not blackout drunk. He knew I wasn't Jessica. He had wanted me.

The realization twists something dark and victorious in my gut.

"What's this about?" I mutter, heart hammering against my ribs.

She steps closer, her eyes flicking to the red handprint on my ass. Not with anger, but with something almost sad.

"I needed you fertile."

Fertile? What the fuck?

"I needed the two of you to have sex," she whispers, her voice cracking slightly. "That's why I pretended to leave the house. I knew you'd crack eventually... just not this early. But my mission is accomplished."

I stare at her, still naked, cum drying on my skin, trying to process.

"I'm infertile, Joyce. I can't carry a child."

What? Since when?

She slides an envelope across the counter with trembling hands. I snatch it, rip it open, and scan the pages, my sticky fingers leaving marks on the paper. An ultrasound stares back at me-Jessica's womb, empty. Barren.

"It's empty," I say, voice flat.

"I thought you and Tyler already had sex."

"That's what I'm saying," she replies, eyes welling up. "I can't give birth, and Dad won't accept it if I adopt and lie. I haven't told Tyler yet. I was planning to tell him next week after the wedding."

"Okay... and what does this have to do with me and Tyler fucking?"

"So... I came up with a plan," she continues, voice dropping to a desperate plea. "You and I are identical-down to blood type. I was hoping you'd carry for ten weeks, we transfer the embryo to my uterus, and I give birth in March like nothing ever happened."

She reaches out, brushes a smear of cum from my lip with her thumb, and licks it clean without breaking eye contact. Her touch is gentle, almost loving.

"You've already done the hard part, twin. All you have to do now is keep your legs open for a few more loads... and then hand my baby back when it's time."

Her smile is shaky, desperate.

I finally find my voice, sharp and cold. "So let me get this straight... you want me to be your fucking oven for ten weeks, then go through surgery just to hand the baby over to you?"

"Yes... exactly. Now you're getting it," she says, eyes pleading. "Please, Joyce. You're my sister. I've always been there for you-Cambridge, the money, everything. Do this for me. For us. I can't lose Tyler over this. I can't lose my family."

"No," I snap, backing up a step and slamming my hand on the counter. "Fuck no. You set me up like a lab rat? I'm not your surrogate incubator, Jess. Find someone else to play baby factory."

Her face crumples. Real tears roll down her cheeks.

"Joyce, please," she begs, grabbing my arm softly but tightly. "I'm begging you. This is my only chance. We're twins-we share everything. Remember Mom? She always said we were two halves of the same soul. If you say no, I lose everything. Please... I'll do anything. I'll give you half the house, the yacht, whatever you want. Just say yes."

I yank my arm free and pace the kitchen, bare feet slapping against the cold marble. The smoke still stings my eyes-or maybe it's the tears I'm fighting back.

She's my sister. My twin. The one who saved me after Mom died. The guilt twists like a knife in my chest.

"Fine," I mutter, stopping and crossing my arms over my bare chest. "Whatever. But this is fucked up, Jess."

She pulls me into a tight hug, whispering "Thank you" over and over like I just saved her life. I stand there stiffly, not hugging back, but not pushing her away either.

I pull out of the embrace and head upstairs on shaky legs, leaving her in the kitchen.

My mind is a storm.

Do I have a choice? For now, I go with the flow.

I slip into her room. Tyler is sprawled on the bed, dead asleep, as if we hadn't just fucked for two nonstop rounds. Must be the spiked liquor.

I grab one of Jessica's blouses-the same one I'd been wearing earlier-and slip it on, fingers fumbling with the buttons as I stare at my reflection. Her face stares back at me.

This isn't my room... not yet.

I take a long, scalding shower, scrubbing my skin raw, turning the water hotter until it burns. I slam the soap bar against the tile in frustration.

"Who would have guessed... the all-perfect, stunning, always-lucky Jessica can't give birth."

And I'll have to give her the child.

I press my forehead against the cool shower wall, one hand resting on my flat stomach.

Ten weeks? Surgery? Hand it over like a library book? And I'll be left with nothing. Still the failure. Still not perfect.

Fuck that.

I can't be her shadow forever. I have to change that.

"And you're going to help me with that," I whisper to the probably-not-yet-fertilized egg, tracing slow circles on my skin. "Am I crazy or what?"

I step out, towel off roughly, and slip into nightwear. It's 3:17 a.m. Sleep refuses to come.

I pace my room, fists clenching, then creep to Jessica's room for a peek. She's asleep. Tyler lies naked in the middle, sheets barely covering his cock.

Still out cold.

I slip inside, tiptoe to the bed, and gently slide under the sheet next to him. The mattress dips as I press my body against his. My hand slides over his chest. He stirs but doesn't wake.

I go back to my own room, stare at the ceiling, mind racing.

If I give her the baby, she wins forever. If I keep it... I win everything.

The memory of her licking Tyler's cum from my lips flashes through my mind.

Cocky bitch.

I'm keeping the baby. Tyler. And everything that's supposed to be hers.

The Next Day

"Aahh-mmph..."

I jolt awake, tangled in sheets. "Fuck... my body feels like I got hit by a bus."

I sit up, smiling through the delicious ache. Every sore muscle reminds me of Tyler's hands, his thrusts, the way he groaned my name when he came.

I roll over and press a hand to my stomach. "Still flat," I whisper, fingers lingering there, wondering if something is already changing inside.

I kick the covers off and pace to the window. Jessica's car is still in the driveway.

Good. She's not running from her own mess.

Downstairs, Jessica is in the kitchen, moving like nothing happened. She's making coffee.

"Oh hey, Joyce. Good morning," she says, voice jolly. "Coffee?"

I nod, sliding onto a stool and crossing my legs tight. "Black. Strong."

She pours it, slides the mug over, and leans on the counter. "I meant what I said last night. Thank you, Joyce. This means everything."

She reaches across and squeezes my hand. I let her, but my fingers stay limp.

Tyler stumbles in, hair a mess, eyes squinty from the hangover. He rubs his head and groans. "What the hell happened? My head feels like a jackhammer."

He spots me and freezes, gaze dropping to my nightwear like fragments are coming back.

"Joyce? Last night... was that you?"

Jessica jumps in, wrapping her arms around him from behind and kissing his neck. "You were celebrating, sweetie. Our family. I'm having a baby!"

Of course she breaks the news without mentioning me. Fucking whore.

I stab my fork into the stack of pancakes, twisting hard.

"Wait, you're pregnant?" Tyler asks, stunned.

"Yeah," Jessica replies, bubbly as ever.

"But last night I... with Joyce..." he trails off, looking at me.

He reaches across the counter to touch my hand. I pull back slightly, smiling sweetly. "Congratulations on the baby."

Under the table, I uncross my legs and let my foot brush slowly up his calf. He jerks, eyes widening, but says nothing.

Jessica beams, plating more pancakes. "Eat up. We have doctor appointments to book. This is going to be perfect."

I chew, the sweetness turning bitter in my mouth.

Perfect for her, maybe.

As Tyler steals glances at me, I think: One month. That's all I need to make it perfect for me.

The weeks blur together.

We take the pregnancy test in the bathroom. I pee on the stick. We wait. Jessica paces, biting her nails, far more anxious than I am.

Two lines appear.

Positive.

Jessica cries and hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. "My hero," she whispers.

I hug back, but my hands fist in her shirt.

She swaps the test with one labeled in her name and shows it to Tyler. He picks her up, spins her, laughing with joy.

I step in for a congratulatory hug, pressing my body against his. "Remember," I whisper in his ear.

He stiffens, but hugs me tighter.

I help with the rushed wedding-adjusting her veil in the fitting room, smiling in the mirror while secretly twirling in my own dress when she isn't looking, imagining it's my day.

One night, while Jessica showers, I corner Tyler in the hallway. I push him against the wall and kiss him hard.

"That night was us," I breathe.

He kisses back for a second, then pushes me away, guilt flashing in his eyes. "We can't."

But his eyes say he wants to.

That's the first step-make him remember who was really on his cock.

The wedding is small and intimate. I stand at the altar, hand subtly on my belly under the bouquet, forcing a smile as they kiss.

At the reception, Tyler pulls me aside. "Hey Joyce... what's really going on? That day... I remember you. Is everything alright?"

I step closer, fix his tie, letting my fingers linger on his chest. "It was real, Ty."

I trail my finger down to the outline of his cock through his trousers. "Meet me in my room tomorrow night. 2 a.m."

Clink-clink-clink.

Jessica taps her wine glass for a toast. "We are all gathered here for a special event. It's not just the wedding we're celebrating," she says, hand on her stomach. "A new family member is joining us very soon."

The room erupts in cheers. Dad looks so proud. "So proud of you, hon. Your mom would have been too."

After the toast, as we sit together eating and drinking, a small piece of my plan clicks into place.

A week before the embryo transfer, Jessica books everything, excited, showing me calendars and timelines.

What she doesn't know is that I'm going to ruin every last bit of her happiness.

"And it's just a matter of time," I whisper to myself, grinning.