After Marrying a Vegetative State Patient, the Gentle Childhood Love Regrets It Wildly

After the Thorne family went bankrupt, my stepsister, Vanessa, and I were thrown into a strange selection process for a substitute bride.

Whoever was picked would be married off to the comatose eldest son of the wealthiest family.

Vanessa was destined to be chosen.

While I, bound by a family agreement, was set to marry Alex Sterling, my childhood friend who’d been in love with Vanessa for a decade.

In my last life, he begged me to undergo nine IVF procedures, and I finally conceived a boy and a girl.

When I was confined to the attic during my late pregnancy, forced to rest, he and my recently widowed stepsister were having a passionate affair in the master bedroom downstairs, night after night.

A week before I gave birth, he deliberately swerved, crashing the car into a guardrail, letting sharp metal pierce my abdomen.

The second before my consciousness faded, I heard his unrestrained joy:

“Vanessa, Iris is finally dead. We can get married tomorrow!”

I opened my eyes again and found myself back on the night of the drawing.

Looking at my stepsister, who was crying into her hands, I leaned in close to her ear, smiling:

“How about it, sis? I’ll marry him instead of you?”

That unfaithful bastard? Not even if he begged!