He Killed My Babies, So I Married His Brother

The nurses froze. The doctor looked at the floor. No one wanted to defy him.

One nurse turned to me, her voice almost apologetic. “Mrs. Celestino… we need your consent.”

I stared at Marshall, my tears falling one by one. “You’ve always claimed you wanted a child, and now that I’m carrying your twins, you’d throw them away for Daphne’s fake illness?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “You were going to abort them anyway.”

I shook my head. “And you just heard I cancelled it.”

Marshall sighed as if I were a stubborn child. “Liora, your pregnancy isn’t stable. The odds aren’t in your favor. Daphne’s condition is more secure. Her baby has a real chance.”

My stomach dropped. “So you’re willing to kill mine for hers.”

He stepped forward, softening his tone like that would make it better. “It’s not about that. Daphne’s vitals are slipping. Yours… well, you might not make it next month.”

I couldn’t speak. I could only look at him and realize he wasn’t just saving a life. He was choosing a woman. And it wasn’t me.

“You’ve already made your choice,” I whispered.

Daphne let out a small, practiced cough from the bed. His attention snapped to her instantly, leaving me invisible.

The nurse’s touch on my arm was light, her eyes full of pity. “Mrs. Celestino… please.”

Marshall didn’t look back.

I swallowed hard. “Do it.”

The needle slid into my arm. My blood flowed into the tube. I stared at the floor, willing myself not to cry. My chest tightened, and dizziness rolled over me in waves.

The nurse checked the monitor and gasped. “Her vitals are dropping!”

“Stop the transfusion,” the doctor ordered.

Marshall shoved him back. “Don’t stop. Daphne needs it.”

“She’s stable,” the nurse shot back.

“You’re blind if you think she’s fine,” Marshall snapped.

Pain tore through me. My vision blurred. I could taste blood. My body was trembling uncontrollably.

Somewhere in the haze, my thoughts went to Percival. The way his voice had wrapped around the word finally, like he had been waiting for me all along. I had told him to wait. I had never said yes.

The medical staff argued with Marshall, their voices a jumble. He never looked at me. Only at Daphne.

I managed to whisper, barely audible. “God… please save my babies.”

And then everything went dark.

**

When I woke up, I honestly wished I hadn’t. My whole body hurt like I had been thrown down a flight of stairs and run over for good measure. There was this horrible empty feeling inside me, like something had been ripped away.

“Oh, Mrs. Celestino. You’re finally awake. We thought we were going to lose you,” a female doctor said quietly from beside me.

My throat felt like sandpaper. My limbs were heavy, sore, bruised in places I didn’t even know could bruise. I blinked against the blinding hospital lights, trying to remember why I was here. For a second, I thought maybe it was a bad dream.

But then it all came back.

Marshall. Daphne. The blood transfusion. The pain. The panic. The screaming inside my head.

Fear clawed its way up my chest as I turned my head toward the doctor. Her expression was careful, too careful. I already knew.

“My babies…” My voice cracked. “Please tell me they’re okay.”

She hesitated. That pause was worse than any answer she could have given me.

Her eyes softened, and she shook her head. “We tried everything. I’m sorry. The twins didn’t make it.”

The world stopped moving. And then I broke… I sobbed until my lungs gave out, until my body shook and my stitches pulled, until my vision blurred with tears. I cried for the two little lives I never got to hold, for the tiny kicks I’d never feel again, for the future that Marshall had stolen from me without a second thought.

If I had known this was how it would end, maybe I would have ended the pregnancy early, before I let myself love them.

When the tears finally slowed, I wiped my face with trembling fingers. My mind drifted to the last conversation I’d had with Percival. His offer.

“W-what day is it?”

“It’s Thursday,” she said gently. “You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

Two days. That meant I was running out of time.

“I need my phone, please.”

“It’s in the drawer beside you.”

I took the phone. My hands shook as I typed the message:

“I’ll take your offer. Meet me at the airport.”

“Finally. I was starting to think you’d changed your mind, little grapes.”

“Never.” I typed back.