On our anniversary, I learned my husband killed my Children

“Come on, twin brother,” he said on the phone, chuckling. “She’s stupid enough not to know we switch places, and even foolish not to know I was the one killing our child so she had miscarriages for the last years.”

My entire body went cold.

Killing… Our child? That four miscarriages weren’t an accident?

I almost collapsed right there even though I was lying in bed.

On the other end of the call, a familiar voice—the real Lewis—laughed. A sharp, dismissive sound that sliced through whatever remained of my heart.

“Well, Nadine’s always been clueless since we were young,” he said. “Let her be.”

Maxon continued casually, as if discussing the weather: “Are you sure you won’t regret leaving her to me? You used to love her.”

The real Lewis snorted. “Honestly? No. I only wanted her back then because you wanted her. I just wanted to beat you. But now that she chose me—damn.” He clicked his tongue.

“I don’t even like her. It’s always been Victoria. And it’s no fun when I beat you, you know. I’ve always loved Victoria, and so I even faked my death just to chase her because surely grandma wouldn’t agree if I left her. But it’s a win-win now because you have her… and you owe me.”

My stomach twisted so violently I had to grip the sheets to stay grounded.

“Well, then, if she gets pregnant this time, I will not allow you to kill the baby! We’ve been killing it for the last four years, and I want a child with her now!”

Lewis replied, “Sure. Nadine’s pregnant already with our child. The only reason I was killing her child ‘cause Victoria doesn’t want me to have a child with Nadine before her. She didn’t even know the child has always been yours. So, yeah, it’s all on you, too. From now, do whatever you want with the child.”

A broken sound escaped me before I could stop it.

Four miscarriages. All because of them.

Maxon—pretending to be Lewis—laughed softly. “Then leave her to me. She won’t ever know her most hated twin brother is the one warming her bed. This is her punishment for rejecting me back then over you. Now, she would never be able to leave my side.”

I slapped a hand over my mouth again, tears already blurring my sight.

I always fought with Maxon. We clashed about everything. He was the playboy. The troublemaker. The boy who pushed my buttons until I screamed.

But never—not once—did I imagine he would do this to me.

Maxon continued on the phone: “By the way, Grandma wants us home for her birthday. She warmed up fast when she heard you—well, Maxon, came back from the dead. Can’t believe it. She always hated me and said would not even give me my inheritance!”

Lewis snorted. “Of course she did. After all, she’d been missing Maxon when she thought you died. But for Lewis, she’s going to hand me the company. For that party, I’ll be Lewis. We keep switching. Family matters—we play our parts. But when it comes to the sisters, we switch depending on the situation but I should always be with Victoria. Victoria hates it when I’m with Nadine.”

They both laughed. My vision swam. I just didn’t know what else to do. How could they do this to me?

A tear slipped down my cheek. Then another and another.

Just then, I felt arms wrap around me from behind as the bed moved.

Warm. Familiar. The scent of Lewis’s cologne. Except it wasn’t Lewis.

It was Maxon pressing his chest against my back.

“Love?” he murmured. ”I love you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to sob. Trying not to scream. Trying not to break right there.

I used to think our story began the day Lewis told me he loved me. But the truth was… it began long before that.

We were childhood friends—me and the twin boys, Lewis and Maxon—because our parents were inseparable. Business partners. Vacation buddies. The type of adults who talked about raising their kids side-by-side the way other people talked about backyard gardens.

I practically grew up at their beach house.

I remembered those summers so clearly it hurt. Lewis smiling shyly at me, always the gentler twin, offering me seashells as if they were precious diamonds. Maxon chasing us with water balloons, loud, stubborn, and cocky even at ten.

The adults used to tease us constantly.

“She will marry one of those twin boys someday,” they’d laugh.

Then Victoria arrived in our lives for real. She wasn’t just a playmate anymore; she became part of the family when her parents died in an accident. She was six. Lost. Quiet. I remember feeling so much pity for her, so much instinctive protectiveness, that when my parents said she’d be spending most holidays with us and the twins, I didn’t complain.

We all grew up together like that—an unbreakable circle.

Or so I thought.

Maxon was the first to break it.

He confessed to me when we were fifteen. Brazen and stupid, that boy. His cheeks were red, but he still smirked like he wasn’t scared.

But I was.

“You’re a playboy,” I had said sharply. “You don’t know what love is.”

He had laughed, pretending it didn’t matter, but I saw it—just for a flash—in his eyes: the hurt. Or maybe his pride shattering. I’ll never know.

Still, I tried. At first. I tried to see where it might go.

But then Lewis happened. Quiet, careful Lewis. The one who didn’t make grand gestures but made me feel… safe. Seen. Wanted in a way that wasn’t loud or exhausting.

Little by little, all my attention shifted toward him. I didn’t even notice Maxon drifting away until the day he snapped—until he became angry, almost violent in his frustration.

That was the last time we spoke.

By twenty, Maxon had left, the entire family treated him like the black sheep. Even their grandmother couldn’t stand to hear his name.

And by twenty-three, I married Lewis.

Except now—

Lewis wasn’t Lewis. He was Maxon. The real Lewis was gone, stolen from me long before I even had a chance to understand it.

I felt myself breaking in half, then in quarters, then into dust. Everything… everything I thought I knew was a lie.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and stood up abruptly.

Maxon was finally asleep on the couch, breathing peacefully. Peacefully, when he had destroyed my entire world.

I grabbed my phone and walked out the door before I could think.

My hands were shaking as I dialed.

It rang once.

“Hello?” my mother answered, her voice thick with sleep.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Mom,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please take me home. I’m going to divorce my husband.”