Plot Twists Pregnancy Short Stories & Novels

When a wave of labor pain brought me to my knees in the hospital hallway, Orson Caldwell, a brilliant doctor, was just about to wheel me into the delivery room. Just then, his phone rang. When he answered the call, his expression fell. "Seraphina, Cressie's teddy is having trouble giving birth. It's in critical condition, but the vet clinic in her town is closed. I have to perform a C-section on it." I clutched my stomach as blood slowly began to seep between my legs. "I'm fully dilated. If you leave now, what am I supposed to do?" Orson looked annoyed. "We'll get another doctor to do it. You're only giving birth, but Cressie's dog could die. I'll make it up to you and our child someday." With that, he rushed into the elevator without even taking off his white coat. I laughed through my tears, pulled out my phone, and called my father. "Dad, I'll agree to the arranged marriage."

My husband, Mason Crawford, is a renowned obstetrician-gynecologist with more thank-you greeting cards from patients than I can count. But when I start bleeding during my first trimester and rush to the hospital to see him, he kicks me out. "Family doesn't get special treatment. Hospital rules. You have to register and wait in line like everyone else." I take his words to heart. I never bother him, not once, for any of my prenatal checkups. That is, until his first love, Vivian Werner, who married and moved abroad, comes back pregnant. That's when everything changes. When Vivian comes in for her prenatal checkups, he personally pulls strings to arrange a VIP room for her. And the checklist of tests he draws up for her is even more detailed than the one he gave me. Vivian says she's scared something might happen to her baby, so he brings in the best medical team to watch over her 24/7. I find this unfair, so I complain to him about it a lot. But Mason simply wipes away my tears gently. "She's divorced and pregnant. She's already got it hard enough. Do you really have to be jealous over this, too?" Since I can't think of a comeback, I have no choice but to bite my tongue and bottle up my feelings. Then, on my way to get a fetal heart-rate monitoring test, I get into a car accident. I call him countless times, but he never comes to sign the consent forms. The surgery ends, and I hold our stillborn baby in my arms. I want him to come see our daughter one last time, but he still doesn't pick up. It isn't until the sun goes down that his buddy calls me with the "good news". "Leah, Vivian's given birth. It's a boy. I've never seen Mason's hands shake like that before. You should go get a gift and bring it here as soon as possible. Mason says he wants to become the baby's godfather." So this is why he hasn't picked up. He's busy delivering his ex-girlfriend's baby.

I rushed back from out of town overnight when my best friend, Siobhan Coventry, went into labor. After learning that both mother and child were safe, I got teary-eyed with emotion. "Have you decided on the baby's name yet?" I asked. Her smile stiffened unnaturally for a moment. "Leonard Kessler. We'll call him Leo." "Kessler?" I stared at her in surprise. "I thought you said the baby would take your last name. Is his biological father's last name Kessler?" She gave me a vague hum before quickly changing the subject. "Ginny, I've been craving the wraps from that place in the college town." I nodded, forcing my doubts aside, and went out to buy one for her. It was only when I reached the hospital entrance that I suddenly remembered I hadn't given her my gift yet. I hurried back upstairs, only to see my husband—who had been away for two years, supposedly carrying out a classified project and never once returning home—walking into my best friend's hospital room with a bouquet in his hands. He sat down beside her bed and took her hand, his face full of concern. "You were so amazing, my love." My mind went completely blank, and all the blood rushed to my head. My hand was still on the doorknob when I saw my mother carrying the baby over to them, beaming with delight. "Look—the baby smiled as soon as he heard his daddy's voice." So her baby's last name was taken from Vincent Kessler—my husband's last name. The classified project… The whole story about having a child without the father in the picture… It had all been a lie. Even my own mother had helped her goddaughter and son-in-law deceive me. The people I loved most in the world didn't want me involved with this family at all.

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?"

At the coming-of-age ceremony my sister and I shared at twenty-one, our father produced two marriage contracts. One came from the ducal House of Beaumont. A century-old line with power beyond measure, whose heir Alexander was composed, wealthy, and the dream of every unmarried girl in Saint-Vérain. The other came from the bankrupt Moreau family. Their estate mortgaged, creditors at the door, their heir Elias had nothing but a handsome face. In my last life, my sister Vivienne chose Alexander first and left Elias to me. Later, she was caught in an affair, and the Beaumont family confined her for life under the name of "psychiatric rest." Elias, with my help, climbed from ruined nobility into City Hall and became the youngest chief secretary to the mayor. Vivienne didn't hate the in-laws who destroyed her, or the husband who was cold to her. She hated only that I lived better than she did. The day I visited her, she smashed my skull with a silver candlestick. When I opened my eyes again, we were back at the moment of choosing. Vivienne snatched the Moreau letter and said smugly, "Little sister, this time it's my turn to be the wife of the rising star of politics." I looked at her and smiled. She didn't know that in the last life, the one who had truly raised Elias to high office was never fate. And that Alexander, who had never touched her, had never been cold by nature. He had simply married the wrong woman.