Bias Pregnancy Short Stories & Novels

At three months pregnant, I was diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy. My husband, a doctor, was overwhelmed with worry, pulling every string he could to arrange surgery and remove the baby. "As long as you're okay, it doesn’t matter if we don’t have our own child. We can always adopt. I can't lose you, Evelyn!" Heartbroken, I blamed myself for being useless, for failing to carry our child, and for disappointing my husband. But then, I accidentally saw his chat messages with another woman on the phone. "Don’t worry, I already told her she had an ectopic pregnancy." "I’ll have her sign the adoption papers soon, then find a way to bring you into our home." "Asher is my only son. I will make sure he inherits everything I have!" That was when I realized that the husband I loved so deeply had long since built another family behind my back.

Graham Whitmore had been with me for eight years, all while keeping another woman as his mistress for six. On the eve of our wedding, he swore he had finally cut ties with them. He threw money around, settling things with every woman he had been involved with and making sure I never lost face. I was overjoyed, thinking that, after all those years, I had finally made it to the other side until one flimsy pregnancy test changed everything. Graham drove through the night, tearing across state lines without a second thought, all to get back to his true love. They kissed beneath a tree as if no one else existed, as if I were the villain standing in the way of some tragic love story. So, I took a pair of scissors to my new gown and called off the wedding. By the time Graham rushed back, photos of him with the other woman had already gone viral. Overnight, they had become the targets of public outrage. He pointed at me and snarled, "Luna Calhoun, whatever problem you have, take it out on me. Why did you have to drag Jennifer into this?" "You know what?" I shot back. "Dating you was the biggest mistake and the biggest stain on my life!"

To leave something for her dying first love, my wife, Elara Wynn, decides to carry two babies at once, implanting his previously frozen embryo while she's already pregnant with our child. On the day of the procedure, she even stations 50 bodyguards outside, convinced I'll show up and try to stop her. But I never come. Once the embryo is successfully implanted, she finally relaxes. She doesn't understand why I'm making such a big deal out of it. All she wants is to leave something that belongs to her first love. She doesn't see anything wrong with that. Afterward, she comes to find me and says, as if she's doing me a favor, "Callum, aren't you happy I'm carrying twins now? Try to be the bigger person. What kind of example are you setting for the kids?" What she doesn't know is that while her first love's embryo survives the procedure, our baby doesn't. And I've already filed my immigration papers. In ten days, Callum Vane will cease to exist. I'll leave the country under a new identity, and she'll never see me again.

On the day the real heiress was welcomed home, my fiancé was already sleeping with her. Staring at the blue pills and torn lingerie scattered on the floor, I told them to get the hell out of my wedding house. But a second later, my father stormed in and slapped me hard across the face. "Who are you to tell her to leave? Bella is our real daughter!" "Elena, you’re just an outsider we took in by mistake. You’re the one who needs to get out." Marco wrapped his arm around Bella, his tone impatient: "Elena, I’m the heir to the Moretti family. I can’t marry a mongrel with impure blood like you. If you don't want to bring shame to the family, be smart and go tell the Don the wedding is off tomorrow." Bella gave a coy smile and tossed a stack of cash at my feet like she was giving alms: "Sister, I know Marco and I hurt you, but we’re true love." "Take this as your severance package. Take the money and get lost." I suppressed my rage and stepped forward to throw these disgusting people out, but Marco shoved me violently. "I told you, I’m not marrying you! Keep pestering us, and don't blame me for getting rough!" My stomach slammed against the table. I laughed out of pure anger. Who said I wanted to marry him? The one I’m going to marry is his father—the Don of the Moretti family, Lorenzo.

As the future daughter-in-law, I am making my first formal visit to my fiancé Patrick Underwood's family on Thanksgiving. At the dinner table, I raise my glass to make a toast when Patrick's childhood sweetheart, Lana Rowe, suddenly stands up and says to my future father-in-law, Alfred Underwood, "Dad, thank you for letting Patrick give me a son." I freeze on the spot. Mr. Underwood looks at Lana with emotion and says, "You've always known how to repay kindness, and you and Patrick grew up together. He should consider himself lucky to have you bear his child." Everyone at the table nods in agreement. Not a single person thinks there is anything wrong with this. Only then does Patrick finally notice me standing off to the side. He explains, "Don't get the wrong idea. Lana has no intention of ever getting married. She'd be lonely in her old age if she didn't have a child, so I was just helping her out. "Agnes, you already have me, so whether we have kids or not doesn't change anything." Dad shoots me a stern look. "If you dare cause a scene at Thanksgiving dinner, you can get out!" Lana suddenly laughs. "Come on, don't be so serious, everyone. Agnes has always been so understanding—surely she won't make a fuss over something so trivial." She then turns to me. "If Patrick and I really had something going on, you wouldn't have had a chance to marry him in the first place. Besides, you can be our son Douglas Underwood's godmother. The three of us can raise him together." I don't take the glass of wine Lana offers me. Instead, I glance at Patrick again. He gestures for me not to make a scene. A lump forms in my throat. In that instant, I find the whole situation utterly ridiculous. I immediately message my professor, Gary Massey, who has been hoping I would become his daughter-in-law. "Professor Massey, does your son, Bradley Massey, know about my situation?" Professor Massey replies instantly, "Yes. As long as you're willing, this marriage is as good as settled." "Okay, I'll marry Bradley."

I was Damian Valenti’s legal wife. But to the rest of New York, Sofia Bellini was the woman he planned to marry—and I was the pregnant mistress who refused to let him go. Damian said it was only for show. Sofia’s husband had died saving his life, and he had promised to protect her. She needed the wedding and the title of Donna. I already had what mattered: his love, his fortune, and our real marriage. At least, that was what Damian believed. He was so certain I would understand that he spent our seventh anniversary helping Sofia choose her wedding dress. He never noticed that I was in the fitting room beside them, wearing the dress he had once promised to see me in. As Sofia admired herself in the mirror, Damian told her she looked beautiful. I lowered my eyes to the faint curve of my stomach and rested a hand over it. Then I made the one decision he never believed I was capable of making. He could give Sofia my wedding, my home, and my name. But he could no longer keep his wife and his heir.

With 30 days left until our wedding, Derrick Holmes suddenly decides to quit smoking and drinking. He tells me he doesn't want our future children picking up any of his bad habits. The following day, he checks himself into a rehab center in the suburbs and refuses all visitors. Worried about him, I make soup every day and bring it over, but Derrick insists that seeing me would make it harder for him to keep going. Instead, I leave the thermos at the reception desk. I make the trip for 23 days straight without missing a single one. Then, the results of my pre-wedding physical come back, and I discover that I'm pregnant. I buy the smallest pair of baby shoes I can find and head to the rehab center, planning to surprise him. After searching through the entire guest registry, the receptionist looks up at me. "Ma'am, no one named Derrick Holmes is staying here." I check the location on my phone. The blue dot isn't in the suburbs at all. It's at the Luna Confinement Centre, a postpartum recovery facility. I take a cab there and find Derrick cradling a newborn in his arms. "Daddy's right here. You're okay," he murmurs patiently. A nurse standing nearby smiles at him. "Mr. Holmes, you're one devoted dad." He grins. "What can I say? The baby and his mother both need me." I touch the pregnancy report in my pocket and remain outside the room for ten seconds without going in. At that moment, I finally realize that Derrick didn't refuse to see me because he's afraid he'll lose his resolve. He's simply too busy being a father to another woman's child. I leave the baby shoes by the door, turn around, and schedule an abortion.

My infertile wife, Quinn Hart, finally gets pregnant after seven years of marriage. But our baby boy is diagnosed with a rare disease shortly after being born. In order to treat our child's disease, Quinn and I have sold everything we own. Alas, we still aren't able to gather enough money to save him. Left without a choice, I can only take on jobs far away from home. Since Quinn is left penniless, she and our child are forced to room with other people. One day, I receive a work order that comes with lucrative rewards. Apparently, I'm required to clean windows on a tall building. Coincidentally, the address points to the building where Quinn is rooming with others. I slowly descend to the window, hoping to give Quinn a surprise. But that's when I notice the boisterous atmosphere inside that particular room. I notice Quinn holding our baby boy with one hand while her other hand is intertwined with another man. "Everyone, meet my husband whom I'm secretly married to for many years, Chester Langston. Today is our moving day as well as the celebration party for our son. "Thank you for attending the grand occasion. We'd like to toast to you in order to show our gratitude." I feel my blood freezing in my veins at that moment. Meanwhile, Quinn is typing away on her phone a short distance away. The next thing I know, I hear my phone chiming once. It seems that a new text has appeared on the screen. "Honey, I'm already pinching pennies just by sharing the same bed with other people with our son. But the thing is, I don't have enough money to last the month…" I can hear Quinn's "husband" teasing her with a soft chuckle through the open window. "So, this is how you've been lying to him, huh?" Quinn just smiles at him casually. "I did everything out of love for you, didn't I? In fact, I've been pretending to be infertile for seven long years just so I can keep my promise to you. And now, I'm pretending to be poor to the point that I keep telling Nicholas that I'm sharing a bed with strangers every day."

When my pup's life begins to fade, there's only one thing that can save him—Moondew. But my Alpha husband, Leo Hartwood, takes it to treat his childhood sweetheart's minor fever. I call him 99 times, begging him to bring it back. When he finally answers, his voice is ice-cold. "Stop using our pup to manipulate me. There's no way my heir is in danger." That night, our pup dies. Even then, Leo refuses to believe me. He insists the death certificate is fake and accuses me of staging a funeral just to get his attention. So I file to have our mate bond dissolved and prepare to return home to the Frosthaven Pack. On the day of the funeral, Leo shows up with his childhood sweetheart, Lilian Garner, and stands in front of our pup's grave, calling me cruel and selfish. Then he comes closer. For the first time, he realizes he can no longer sense our pup. All the color drains from his face. "Aurora… Where's our pup?"

I was six months pregnant when my husband's childhood sweetheart showed up on Christmas Eve, pregnant too, demanding her place in his life. Smiling, I welcomed her in. "Come on in. Make yourself at home." In my previous life, I had forced my husband to kick Shirley out. She collapsed from low blood sugar and froze to death that very Christmas Eve. Matthew did not hold it against me. On the contrary, he softened, stayed by my side and took care of me while I waited to give birth. However, when the baby came, despite being an obstetrician himself, Matthew sent our healthy newborn son straight to the morgue. I begged him desperately, but his face was twisted with hatred. "If you hadn't been so petty and dramatic, Shirley wouldn't have died along with her baby!" "You're heartbroken over your son? Then go freeze to death too. Pay for Shirley’s life with your own life." Just like that, I opened my eyes again, back to the moment Shirley arrived on Christmas Eve.

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."

Everyone knew Elio Carbone, Don of the Carbone family, was a cold-hearted womanizer. He had one rule: never sleep with the same woman twice. But for me, he broke it. The first day after our breakup, he stood outside the old Bianchi estate for a day and a night, his entire security detail in tow, just to win me back. The second day, he flew to Sicily and bought the deed to my family's ancestral estate at auction for triple its value, and had it delivered to me. The third day, he tattooed my favorite flower, the lily, over his heart. The tattoo artist said he refused any anesthetic and didn't make a sound. Later, at a banquet for the Five Families, in front of all the other Dons, he sliced his palm and made a blood oath. He swore loyalty only to Eleonora Bianchi for the rest of his life; if he broke his vow, he would pay with his life. After a year of his relentless pursuit, his devotion finally wore me down, and I agreed to take him back. I truly believed him then. That Elio truly loved me. Until one night. He took me to an underground racetrack to broker a deal with an ally. But in the roaring crowd, I saw a girl, trembling and crying, her clothes in tatters. Ava was shoved to the starting line. She was the wager for the death race. One look was all it took for Elio's face to darken. The next second, he dropped his hand from my waist and, without a word, walked toward the track entrance. I stood frozen, watching his back as he disappeared into the driver's seat of a modified sports car. I used to wake up crying, terrified he would lose his life in one of these reckless races. He had smashed his trophies, burned his marker for the illegal track, and sworn to God he would never again enter such a life-or-death gamble. My hand drifted to my stomach, covering the secret I hadn't yet had the chance to share. His blood oath was broken. And so was I.

Willow Southfield, my wife, hated Luke Xavier, my childhood friend, the most. Luke hated her too. Whenever we met up, they would argue. Luke was half an hour late, and the first thing he said when he came through the door was, “Your makeup makes you look like you came straight out of a horror movie.” Willow threw his car keys into the ice bucket. “Fish them out and clear your mind.” My friends said that they were like oil and water, and I was always stuck between them, playing the peacemaker. Back then, we had been married for years, but we had no children. I told Willow that I was not in a hurry, but the idea of being childless hurt like a knife in my heart. Later, the doctors said that her fallopian tubes were blocked, and her chances of getting pregnant were slim to none. I was worried about her suffering from IVF, so I stopped our families from nagging at her to get pregnant. Meanwhile, Luke said to me, “Get a grip. You won’t be able to stay together for long if you’re childless. Just divorce her.” I was so mad that I nearly cut ties with him. But the next day, Willow approached me with an IVF form. With teary eyes, she said, “I’d like to try and have a child of our own.” On the day we learned that she was pregnant, I hugged her and cried. I thought that things would change for us. Then, three months later, Luke accidentally sent me a voice message while drunk. The voice was Willow’s. She sounded amused. “He touched my stomach today, and he looked so stupid.” “Did my baby kick him?” Luke asked in a whisper. When I finished listening to the voice message, I did not ask any questions. I just deleted the names that I had come up with for the baby.

When Ethan Thamson was broke and struggling, his first love left him for a richer man who could give her the designer lifestyle she wanted. He spiraled until I found him unconscious on the side of the road and took him in. On my 18th birthday, our friendship became something more, and before long, we were inseparable. For the next eight years, I stayed by Ethan's side as he fought his way from a nobody on the streets to one of the most powerful men in the city. And through it all, Ethan treated me like I was the center of his world. Even after all these years, he still remembers the smallest things, like bringing me a heating pad and a warm drink whenever I have cramps. I never doubt his love—until I'm eight months pregnant and find an almost-empty box of condoms in his car. Ethan laughs it off. "I lent the car to Mason. I'll tell him to clean up after himself next time." After eight years together, I believe him. One month later, Vanessa Coleman, Ethan's first love, shows up at our door. She's pregnant. Vanessa pulls down her collar just enough to reveal the marks scattered across her skin and smiles. "Has Ethan ever wanted you this badly? In the past year alone, we've been together 108 times in hotels, 15 times in his car, and 18 times in the bed you share with him. "You were never the love of his life, Natalie. You were just the woman he used to get over me. "And now that I'm back, he doesn't need you anymore. So why are you still holding on?"

My boyfriend's childhood friend got knocked up. To save her rep, Quentin Palmer married her. When I asked what that meant for me—and our baby—he stayed ice-calm. "Rainee's not like you. I'm all she's got. She wouldn't survive the gossip." Like I had anyone else? Like I wasn't carrying his baby too? Later, while people laughed behind my back about the "fatherless" kid I was having, Quentin just stood there—next to Rainee, silent. That's when it hit me—love comes with a pecking order. So I ended the pregnancy. Gave up my baby... all so he could play the hero for her.

Ladies, never hike up a mountain on your own! During a holiday, I've received a request for help from an Internet user. Apparently, a young woman has gone missing after she's gone on a mountain hike. A quick session of divination tells me that the woman is already dead. To make things worse, her corpse is stuck at the moment. Having taken on the request made by the woman's parents, I enter the mountain and start looking for her. In the end, I'm able to locate her body in a cave. Not only is her belly swollen with pregnancy, but… but her belly is also moving due to fetal activity. What's scarier is that there's something even more terrifying being hidden beneath her corpse…

Due to my husband's unique status, I did not reveal his identity to my mother after we secretly married. My family was about to be relocated during the holidays, and I took the opportunity to visit my hometown. When I got home, my mother locked me in my stepbrother's room. I questioned my mother about it, and she said, "We're about to be relocated. If you get pregnant, the baby will be counted as an extra person. We'll be compensated with one more house and millions of dollars extra." I begged my mother to release me, but she said that it was better for me to stay in the family than marry into another one. "You and your brother aren't related, anyway. We can even save on dowry." I refused, so my mother got my brother to beat me up until I bled. As the date for the entire town to relocate approached, the developers arrived to distribute the compensation. My husband was among those who arrived. When he saw my bruised cheeks and the bump on my stomach, he went crazy.

Every year, my husband Adrian granted his childhood sweetheart Keira whatever she wished for on her birthday. Last year, he gave her one half of a matching pair of rings. The year before that, he'd used ninety-nine military jets to write "Keira, I love you" across the sky. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, wondering what he'd come up with this year. Keira closed her eyes and made her wish over the birthday candles. "My birthday wish this year is to marry Adrian." The room went dead silent. I stood in the doorway, clutching the lab report that confirmed my pregnancy. Adrian and I had been married for five years, and today I'd finally found out I was pregnant. But faced with Keira's wish, Adrian didn't look the slightest bit troubled. He actually laughed. "That's your wish? Easy." He stood up, walked over, and took my arm, lowering his voice. "Vivian, it's Keira's birthday. She's the birthday girl, and I'm only giving her what she wished for." "Just come with me to sign the divorce papers, and first thing tomorrow morning, we'll remarry." I stared at the man in front of me in disbelief. I had been by his side for five full years, from when he was an ordinary soldier to now, a high-ranking officer. And now he wanted to divorce me for his childhood sweetheart's birthday wish. I gripped the pregnancy report tighter. "But I'm pregnant."

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

My bestie Kenna and I were the fated mates of the two most powerful Alpha brothers in the Dark Moon pack. I was mated to the Head Alpha, Cade. Kenna was mated to his brother, Rhys. On our mating anniversary, a bloody package reeking of Rogues arrived. It was from Cade’s childhood friend, Lilah. The feral scent shocked my body into premature labor. Kenna rushed me to the pack’s private medical center. But the labor triggered a fatal condition: “Moon Eclipse Sickness.” My life force was draining away. With my last bit of strength, I used our mind-link to beg my Alpha for help. His furious voice was my only answer. “You’re faking this just because I missed our anniversary? Lilah’s rare silver hound is giving birth, and it’s dangerous. Don’t cause trouble for me now!” In the end, it was Kenna who drained her own wolf’s spirit to save me. I barely survived. But the pup I delivered was rushed to emergency care, too weak from my fading life force. Her eyes bloodshot, Kenna contacted her mate, Rhys. She begged him for "Moonflower Dew"—a serum from his own company that could save our baby. "Lilah's hound is weak after giving birth. I’m busy making a special formula for it. You and Evelyn are two of a kind. Always stirring up trouble. First her drama, now yours." My pup died. And my heart shattered with him. “Kenna, I’m rejecting my mate bond with Cade.” “If you reject him, I reject mine. Traitors don’t deserve mates.” But when we told the Alpha brothers we were rejecting them, they felt a panic they had never known.