They Killed My Twins A Wife's Revenge Against Her Husband's Family

My husband had a low sperm count. After eighteen rounds of IVF, I was finally pregnant.

I rushed home clutching my eight-week checkup report, barely able to contain my joy. But the moment Theresa Chavez saw it, her face darkened.

"You can't keep this baby. Your sister-in-law is fighting her ex-husband for custody of Sunny Abbott. If she wins, having a kid will make it harder for her to find someone new. From now on, Sunny stays with you."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Mom, what are you saying? You want me to get rid of my baby? Have you lost your mind?"

"If Jeanette can't raise him, she should just give custody to his father. There's no way I'm raising him, and there's absolutely no way I'm getting rid of this child!"

Jeanette Chavez's expression twisted instantly. "My brother already agreed. Who the hell do you think you are? You don't get to make decisions in this family!"

I turned to my husband, Victor Chavez, disbelief flooding through me. "You agreed to this?"

Victor grabbed my arm, his voice coaxing. "Sis is looking out for you, really. You've never raised a kid before. Taking care of Sunny would be good practice for being a mom. Just go along with it."

I was shaking with rage.

"Victor, it's been three years. I've gone through countless rounds of IVF. My stomach is covered in needle marks. I finally succeeded, and you want me to terminate?"

Theresa cut in from the side, her tone dripping with mockery. "And whose fault is that? You should be grateful my son was willing to go through all that with you. Any other man would've divorced you years ago!"

"I've made the decision. Get rid of it. Once Sunny's a little older, you two can try again."

The blood drained from my face. I looked at Victor. "Is that what you think too?"

He pulled me closer and lowered his voice. "It's just a low sperm count. If it worked once, it can work again. Just listen to my mom."

I stared at him, hollow with despair.

He didn't know. He didn't know that his condition had progressed to azoospermia. Zero sperm. There would be no "next time."

……

"Victor, do you have any shred of humanity left? This is your own flesh and blood in my belly, and you want me to kill it so you can raise your sister's kid?"

Victor held my hand, his face crumpling into a wounded expression. "Honey, try to understand. Sunny is the child my sister carried for nine months. I can't bear to see them separated."

"But you can bear to let our baby die inside me?"

My eyes burned red.

"Victor, we waited three years for this child. I went through eighteen rounds of IVF. How can you just throw our baby away?"

For three years, I had injected myself with ovulation shots. My stomach was a patchwork of tiny puncture wounds, so many they blurred together. During the egg retrievals, the pain was so unbearable I wanted to die. And Victor had cradled my belly, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm so sorry you're suffering. From now on, you and our baby are my whole world. I promise, as long as I'm here, no one will ever hurt you."

But now, the man who had sworn on his life to protect us was volunteering to be the one who killed his own child.

Victor glanced helplessly at his mother. "Mom, maybe we could figure out another way..."

"Figure out what? Who else can we trust to raise Sunny? She's going to the clinic today, and that's final. From now on, Edith Sawyer is Sunny's mother!"

Theresa shoved Victor aside and seized my arm, dragging me toward the door.

I grabbed the edge of the table with everything I had, screaming. "Mom, this baby is your grandchild too!"

Theresa let out a cold, derisive laugh. "My daughter is my own blood. The child she bore is a true Chavez. You're an outsider. How could anything you produce compare to what my daughter gave me?"

"Besides, it's not like I'm saying you can never have kids. Once you've raised Sunny through college, you can have as many as you want. But this one goes."

My chest seized with fury, my heart hammering so hard it hurt.

"Mom, I'm twenty-eight years old. Sunny is four. He won't finish college for another twenty years. I'll be nearly fifty by then. How am I supposed to have a baby at fifty?"