WRECKING MY TWIN FIANCE(iii)

Well. Someone finally got the dessert they’ve been starving for,” Jessica says, setting the tray down gently and pulling off the mitts one finger at a time.

“Close your legs, sweetheart. You’re dripping on my marble.”

I instinctively squeeze my thighs together; a thick drop of cum hits the floor anyway.

“It just… happened. Tyler was drunk and ”

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

Tyler did act drunk but not too drunk. He realized I’m not Jessica. So he actually wanted me. The thought punches me in the gut, a twisted mix of victory and guilt.

“What’s this about?” I mutter, my heart hammering.

She steps closer, her eyes flicking to Tyler’s handprint on my ass, not with anger but something sadder.

“I needed you fertile.”

Fertile? What the fuck are you talking about?

“I needed the two of you to have sex,” she whispers, her voice cracking a little. “That’s why I pretended to leave the house. I knew you’d kick off eventually, but not this early. But my mission’s accomplished, though.”

I still don’t understand what you’re saying.

“I’m infertile, Joyce. I can’t carry a child.”

What? Since when?

She slides an envelope to me with trembling hands. I snatch it, rip it open, and scan the pages, my fingers leaving sticky marks on the paper.

It shows an ultrasound image of Jessica’s womb. Empty. Barren.

“It’s empty,” I say, my voice flat. “I thought you and Tyler already had sex.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” she replies, her eyes welling up now. “I can’t give birth, and Dad won’t take it well if I adopted and lied to them. I haven’t told Tyler either—was planning on telling him next week after the wedding.”

Okayy?… and what does this have to do with me and Tyler having sex?

“So… I came up with a plan,” she continues, her voice dropping to a plea. “You and I are identical down to the 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 even closer to me, brushes the smear of cum on 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.”

She still has that same smile on her face, but now it’s shaky, desperate.

I finally find my voice, and it comes out sharp. “So let me get this straight… you want me to be your oven for ten weeks, then go through surgery to get the baby out just for you?”

“Yes… exactly, now you’re getting it,” she says, her eyes pleading like I’m her lifeline. “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. My heart’s racing, anger bubbling up.

“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. Actual tears now, rolling down her cheeks .

“Joyce, please,” she begs, grabbing my arm softly and pulling me closer, her grip tight but not aggressive. “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, pacing the kitchen for a second, my bare feet slapping against the cold marble.

The smoke is still thick in the air, making my eyes sting—or maybe that’s the tears I’m holding back. She’s my sister. My twin. The one who saved me when Mom died. The guilt twists in my chest like a knife.

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

She hugs me then, tight, whispering “Thank you” over and over like I just saved her life. I stand there stiff, not hugging back, but not pushing her away either.

I pull out of the hug and head upstairs on shaky legs, leaving her in the kitchen. My mind’s still a storm. Do I have a choice? For now, I go with the flow.

I make my way to her room just to find Tyler sleeping on the bed like we didn’t just have 2 rounds of almost nonstop fuck.

“Must be the effect of the liquor she gave him.”

I grab Jessica’s clothes—the blouse I had on before the heat from earlier—and slip it on, my fingers fumbling with the buttons as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, seeing her face staring back at me.

Had to go to my room, this isn’t my room, anyways. Not yet that is.

I took a slow shower, scrubbing hard at my skin, turning the water hotter until it burns, trying to wash away the cum and the confusion. My hands shake as I lather up, slamming the soap bar against the tile in frustration.

“Who would have guessed, the all-perfect, stunning, and 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, touching my belly with one hand. Ten weeks? Surgery? Hand it over like a library book?

And I’ll be left with nothing. I’ll still be the failure, still not perfect.

Fuck that. I can’t be her shadow forever. I have to change that. And you’ll be helping me out with that, I whisper, talking to the probably-not-yet-fertilized egg as I trace circles on my skin.

“Am I crazy or what?” I mutter, realizing I just got fucked today. It’s gonna take a whole 10 weeks.

I step out of the shower, towel off roughly, pulling at my hair in frustration before slipping into my nightwear.

It’s 3:17 am in the morning.

Can’t sleep, still thinking of what just happened a few hours ago. I pace my room, fists clenching and unclenching, before I stand up from my bed and go to take a sneak peek in Jessica’s room.

She’s still asleep.

Tyler sprawled naked in the middle, sheets barely covering his dick.

Wow, still out cold.

I stood there watching them, my hand gripping the doorframe so hard my knuckles turn white.

Tyler moved his hand and rested it on her hip.

Fuck… I have to do something about this.

I slip inside, tiptoeing to the bed, and gently lift the sheet to slide in next to Tyler. The mattress dips as I press my body against his, my hand sliding over his chest.

He stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake.

I went back to my room. I stare at the ceiling, still thinking of a decision, flipping the pillow in frustration.

If I give her the baby, she wins forever. On the other hand, if I keep the baby, I win everything.

She just had to lick the cum off my fucking lips.

The thought of what happened made me frown, and I punch the mattress hard.

Cocky bitch. I’m keeping the baby, Tyler, and all that’s yours. Fucking bitch.

THE NEXT DAY

Aahh-mmph…I jolted up on my bed, tangled in sheets.

“Fuck… my body feels like I just got hit by a bus.”

I sit up, smiling through the ache. Every muscle reminds me of Tyler’s hands, his thrusts, the way he called my name when he came. I roll over, pressing a hand to my stomach. “Still flat,” I whisper, fingers lingering there, wondering if something’s already changing inside.

I sit up fast, kicking the covers off, and pace to the window, yanking the curtains aside.

“Her car’s still there.” Good. “She’s not running away from her own mess.”

I splash cold water on my face in the bathroom, staring at my reflection.

“You agreed to this,” I mutter to myself, gripping the sink so hard my knuckles turn white. “But agreements can break.” I grin wide at the mirror, feeling the thrill hit me like a rush.

I slap the faucet off and head downstairs, still in my nightwear, my feet bare and cold on the stairs.

Jessica’s already in the kitchen, moving like nothing exploded last night. She’s making coffee.

“Oh hey, Joyce. Good morning,” she says, jolly as ever.

“Coffee?”

I nod, sliding onto a stool, 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 a lot.” She reaches across the counter, grabs my hand, squeezes it. I let her, but my fingers stay limp.

Tyler shows up in the kitchen, his hair a total mess, eyes squinty from the hangover. He rubs his head, groaning. “What the hell happened? My head feels like a jackhammer.” He spots me, freezes for a second, his gaze dropping to my nightwear like he’s remembering. “Joyce? Last night… was that you?”

Jessica jumps in quick, wrapping her arms around him from behind, kissing his neck. “You were celebrating, sweetie. Our family. I’m having a baby!”

Of course she breaks the news to him, excluding my name like I’m not part of it. Fucking whore. I stab my fork into the stack of pancakes, twisting it hard.

“Wait, you’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” Jessica replies quickly, her voice all bubbly now.

“But last night I… with Joyce…” he trails off, looking at me, still piecing it together. He reaches his hand to touch mine across the counter.

I pull back just a little, smiling sweet. “Congratulations on the baby.” But under the table, I uncross my legs and let my foot brush his calf—accidental, but not really.

He jerks, eyes widening, but doesn’t say anything.

Jessica beams, oblivious, plating the pancakes.

“Eat up. We have doctor appointments to book. This is going to be perfect.”

I chew my pancakes, the sweetness turning bitter in my mouth. Perfect for her, maybe. But as I watch Tyler steal glances at me, I think: one month. That’s all I need to make it perfect for me. I press my fork even harder into the pancakes, imagining it’s her plan I’m crushing.

The weeks start blending after that. We’re about to do a pregnancy test in the bathroom.

I grab the tester and pee on it.

We wait, anxious. Jessica seems more anxious than I am—she’s biting her nails, pacing a little.

We check for the lines. It tests positive.

Jessica cries and hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. She whispers, “My hero.” I hug back, but my hands fist in her shirt.

We tell Tyler about it—the “news.”

Jessica swaps my test with her own name on it, shows it to him like it’s hers. He picks her up, spins her, laughing. But I step in for a hug, pressing against him.

I whisper “remember” in his ear. He stiffens but hugs tighter.

I help with the rushed wedding, adjusting her veil in the fitting room, pulling it snug, smiling in the mirror.

“You look amazing,” I say, but I twirl in my own dress when she’s not looking, imagining it’s my day.

One night, I corner Tyler in the hallway while Jessica’s showering. I push him against the wall, kiss him quick and hard. “That night was us,” I breathe. He kisses back for a second, then pushes me away, guilty. “We can’t.” But his eyes say he wants to.

That’s the first step—get him to remember who he actually had on his dick that day, before moving to the next plan.

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

After the big event, Tyler comes up to me at the reception.

“Hey Joyce, what’s really going on? That day… I remember you. Is everything alright?”

I walk closer to him. I fix his tie, fingers lingering on his chest. “It was real, Ty.” But that’s not the main focus of today. “Meet me in my room tomorrow night by 2am,” I say, trailing my finger from his neck to the outline of his dick through the suit trousers.

Clink—clink—clink. Jessica hits her wine glass, preparing for a toast.

“We are all gathered here for a special event. It’s not just the wedding we are celebrating,” she says, looking down at her stomach.

“A new family is joining us very soon.”

The audience gives a loud roar. Our dad looks so happy.

After the toast, we all sit together, drink, and eat.

“So proud of you, hon. Your mom would have been too,” my dad says.

The wedding concludes with a little piece of my plan achieved.

A week before the transplant, Jessica books it, excited, showing me calendars and all. What she doesn’t know is I’m gonna ruin every last bit of her happiness.

“And it’s just a matter of time,” I say, grinning.