My Five Times Abortion for My Husband Mistress’s Speciment

"Back in my day, a filthy little whore like her would have been drowned in a pigsty," Gerrald’s mother spat, her eyes brimming with contempt. "She’s nothing compared to a clean and respectable girl like you, Lydia."

She took Lydia’s hands in hers, a sickeningly fond smile stretching across her face. "It’s decided then. Gerrald isn’t getting any younger and today, I will make the decision. He will marry you into the family."

This wasn’t the first time I had stood in the grand hall of the Raymond Family’s estate as nothing more than Gerrald’s ‘assistant.’

Back then, he had told me that he was afraid his mother would disapprove of my background and refuse to accept me. But he assured me that he had chosen me, that he would get the marriage license first and slowly work on winning his mother over. I had believed him. I had waited. Seven years had passed and I was still waiting.

Now, his mother, having somehow learned that I had given birth to five stillborn babies, regarded me with nothing but scorn. In her eyes, I was a promiscuous woman, a disgraceful stain on their family name.

"A whore like her doesn’t deserve to stay another second in this house. Gerrald, get rid of her."

There was a time when Gerrald would have defended me, even if only half-heartedly. But now, with Lydia gleaming under the grand chandeliers, there was no space left for me in his gaze.

Feigning reluctance, he sighed, "Alright, since I’m leaving for a business trip abroad the day after tomorrow, I’ll take Lydia with me. We can hold the wedding there."

Not a moment’s hesitation.

Lydia feigned shyness. "But I haven’t even tried on my wedding dress or picked out my ring yet."

As if on cue, the doors opened and an array of twenty-three custom-made, haute couture wedding dresses was wheeled into the hall, each designed by world-renowned fashion masters, booked years in advance.

Each dress had a matching diamond ring, glistening like caged stars. One in particular—a pink diamond ring—I recognized from an international auction last month. It had sold for 200 million.

These weren’t last-minute arrangements. These had been prepared for a long time. Lydia gasped in delight, throwing her arms around Gerrald. "Oh my God, they’re all in my size! And twenty-three... the year we met! Gerrald, you were thinking of me even back then, weren’t you?"

She pouted playfully and he only smiled, eyes brimming with indulgence.

I looked down at my own plain silver ring—the one he had given me the day he proposed. It was too small, cutting into my skin every time I moved my finger. I had tried to take it off before, but I never could. And yet, those diamond rings—each an exact fit for Lydia—meant that he had never forgotten her size. It wasn’t carelessness. It wasn’t forgetfulness. He had never truly seen me at all.

Standing beside them, I felt like the punchline to a cruel joke. I turned on my heel and hurried to the restroom. Splashing ice-cold water onto my face, I tried to wash away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. But no amount of water could cleanse the ache searing my chest.

As I stepped out of the restroom, I collided into a warm embrace. Gerrald.

He pressed a delicate bottle of perfume into my hands, his voice soft with feigned tenderness. "Are you jealous? Today is my mom’s birthday—I couldn’t refuse her. Agreeing to marry Lydia is just for show. Those dresses and rings? They’re just to please her."

His fingers brushed against my cheek. "Once I go abroad, I’ll explain everything to her. You and I... we’re the real couple. We have the marriage license."

His voice dipped lower, coaxing, cajoling. "Jenny, I promise you, after this month, I’ll tell my mother the truth. I’ll make our relationship public. I’ll give you the grand wedding you deserve."

He lifted the perfume bottle with a smirk. "I know how much you love perfumes. This one was difficult to get—it’s a brand-new creation by the top international perfumer. See how much I love you?"

I gripped the bottle, my fingers tightening around the glass. How laughable.

This perfume was one of the wedding favors prepared for his ceremony with Lydia. He had invited thousands of guests to celebrate their union, each receiving this very same bottle as a token of their love. And now, he had the audacity to hand it to me, spinning another lie, thinking I would believe it. My fingers curled around the cold glass, my knuckles white.

I smiled. "Thank you, Gerrald."

And in my heart, I vowed— This would be the last time he would ever deceive me.