My Husband Fed My Mother Poison to Protect His Pregnant Ex

After my third prenatal checkup alone, Ferdinand Sanchez called out of nowhere.

“Get rid of the baby. My first child should be Deborah's.”

“We're married. We can always have more later.”

I thought I'd misheard. I rushed home to get a straight answer.

Instead, through the crack in the door, I heard him cooing at Deborah Harding：

“The stunt you pulled at the wedding, spreading those rumors? I barely managed to cover for you. Don't be so reckless next time.”

Then came Deborah's voice, syrupy and coy：

“I was just upset you married her. It was only a joke. Besides, you already took care of it for me.”

“You only get away with this because I spoil you.”

I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed the door open and asked for a divorce.

He didn't even flinch. He stood there, completely self-righteous.

“Renee Vance, don't forget. When those scandals about your mother broke at the wedding and your family threw you out, I was the one who took you in.”

“When your mother lost her mind, it was the miracle drug I tracked down that kept her stable.”

“Where do you get the nerve to ask me for a divorce?”

I froze. So this was what I was to him.

He thought he'd won. A cruel smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Where would you even go without me? Be good, get rid of the baby, and it'll be better for everyone.”

Fine, then. The baby and you. I didn't want either anymore.

……

“Fine.”

My face was white, but my eyes were calm. Still as dead water.

Ferdinand noticed nothing wrong. If anything, relief flickered across his face.

He reached out to stroke my hair. I shifted away before he could touch me, so smoothly he didn't even register it.

“I knew you'd be reasonable.”

“Don't worry. Once Deborah has the baby, I'll make it up to you. After that, you can have as many as you want.”

After that. There would be no after that.

He had no idea how many rounds of bitter medication I'd forced down, how much I'd endured just to conceive this child.

If I went through with the abortion, I might never be a mother again.

All of this he would have known, if he'd come with me to a single appointment.

When I said nothing more, Ferdinand stood and headed for the door.

“I'm heading out. I need to take Deborah to her checkup.”

I watched his back as he walked away, and something inside me twisted against my will.

I'd been let down so many times. I already knew the answer.

But my body moved before my mind could stop it, and the words left my mouth：

“Ferdinand.”

His steps faltered. He turned, and the patience that had been in his eyes moments ago was already gone.

“What now?”

“Could you……come with me tomorrow?”

Ferdinand blinked, and an uncomfortable look crossed his face.

“Tomorrow's Deborah's birthday. I've been planning it for weeks. I can't miss it.”

“But the doctor said……”

“Enough, Renee! Stop being so dramatic. I'll come see you after Deborah's birthday.”

He left without looking at me again, his long stride carrying him out of the room.

The door slammed shut behind him with a bang, and the room sank back into silence.

I sat motionless on the couch. The tears finally came.

I didn't know how long I sat there before I stood, numb from the inside out.

In the bedroom, I pulled open the dresser drawer. Inside, neatly folded, were several tiny outfits.

Ferdinand and I had picked them out together.

Back then, he would rest his hand on my belly, gentle and warm,

talking about what toys he'd buy the baby, arguing that the first word had to be "Daddy."

Now, for another woman, he'd told me to snuff out this little life like it was nothing.

I emptied the drawer slowly. Each piece I took out left me a little more hollow.

My phone buzzed. A text message.

“Ms. Vance, the matter you asked me to look into is turning up leads. The rumors from back then were definitely connected to Deborah Harding.”