“I’m pregnant with your husband! Gorsky loves me, and you’ll be thrown out soon! You’re a barren blossom and you’ll never be able to have children!” says the stranger.
“I-I think you must be mistaken,” I answer in a trembling voice.
“No, I need exactly you!” she smirks.
Her gaze involuntarily runs over her appearance—blond straight hair, blue eyes, pretty features, and a modest figure. Damn it… she’s my copy. She’s even dressed almost the same as I am.
“Yes, a lot of it is because of her looks—Gorsky chose me,” I realize. “You’re my copy. Except for one thing, perhaps: you’re infertile, and I’m not!”
While I was dealing with infertility, my husband found me a replacement. He cheated on me with a girl who looked like me—like two drops of water.
He called me a barren blossom, but he was wrong. I’m pregnant—yet my child doesn’t need a father like him!